University of South Florida Scholar Commons Graduate Theses and Dissertations Graduate School 11-16-2017 Second-Generation Bruja: Transforming Ancestral Shadows into Spiritual Activism Lorraine E. Monteagut University of South Florida, [email protected] Follow this and additional works at: https://scholarcommons.usf.edu/etd Part of the Communication Commons Scholar Commons Citation Monteagut, Lorraine E., "Second-Generation Bruja: Transforming Ancestral Shadows into Spiritual Activism" (2017). Graduate Theses and Dissertations. https://scholarcommons.usf.edu/etd/7426 This Dissertation is brought to you for free and open access by the Graduate School at Scholar Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Graduate Theses and Dissertations by an authorized administrator of Scholar Commons. For more information, please contact [email protected]. Second-Generation Bruja: Transforming Ancestral Shadows into Spiritual Activism by Lorraine E. Monteagut A dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy Department of Communication College of Arts & Sciences University of South Florida Major Professor: Arthur Bochner, Ph.D. Mariaelena Bartesaghi, Ph.D. Carolyn Ellis, Ph.D. Heather Sellers, Ph.D. Date of Approval: November 6, 2017 Keywords: autoethnography, Cuban-American immigrant, narrative inquiry, narrative therapy, shamanic journey, transgenerational transmission Copyright @ 2017, Lorraine E. Monteagut For my abuelita. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I give thanks to the circle of helping spirits that enveloped me during this Ph.D. journey. To my committee: To Dr. Art Bochner, who encouraged me to explore and patiently read draft after draft after draft as I figured it all out; to Dr. Mariaelena Bartesaghi, whose exuberance about language inspired me to sharpen my eye for just the right word; to Dr. Carolyn Ellis, who shared in my strange curiosities about dreams and ghosts and memories that can somehow be passed down through generations; and to Dr. Heather Sellers, who by magical transmission showed me how to see crystalline scenes and to write from that place of clear vision. Throughout the last five years, I’ve received steady financial support and professional development from the Florida Education Fund and the Humanities Institute at USF. Thanks to Dr. Lawrence Morehouse, Charles Jackson, and Phyllis Reddick at FEF for all you do for young academics. And to Dr. Elizabeth Bird, Liz Kicak, and Mallory Danley at HI -- thank you for constantly going to bat for me and for nurturing my professional skills. This dissertation could not have been possible without the help of my spiritual community. Special thanks to Anna, who taught me how to travel to worlds I didn’t know existed. To Kelly, who gave me the space to exercise my voice and who took our community from a concept to a reality. And to Fidela, who is a world away but who still checks up on me, who reminded me that the home altar is the seat of ancestral female power. With this work I honor my mother, Gloria, the hardest working woman in all the world, whose perseverance and hope energizes me. I aspire to her kind of discipline, her unfaltering belief in the brightness of the future, and her ability to make new things out of old discarded material. I honor my father, Rudy, the first person who noticed my love of reading and writing and who fed me a steady diet of literature, obliging even when I requested books way above my reading level (I still don’t think he knows what was really in those Stephen King novels), and who always answered my questions about the family and about Cuba, no matter how abrupt and random they were. I am forever indebted to my brothers, Rudy and Michael, who I call upon when I need to be reminded that I am not alone in this. We have each been marked by a solitude we are convinced is genetic, the required price for those of us who depart from known territory for the pursuit of higher knowledge. We have all three seen the same shadow in the corner of our rooms. Together, we have transformed it into a shared story we tell late into the night, like old soul friends. I thank all the friends who have held me close while I’ve barrelled through these last few wild years. I am lucky to have too many of you to list here, but know that I am holding each of your faces in my mind as I write this, and I look forward to repaying you for your kindnesses in the years to come. To Erin Scheffels, my soul sister and writing partner, who shared bills with me these years so I wouldn’t go broke, who read every single word of this dissertation five times, who told me when my sentences were lame. It’s your turn now! And to Ben Montgomery. Thank you for all the meals and talks and walks during this final stretch. You’ve reminded me that yes, I do want this writing life. TABLE OF CONTENTS Abstract ii Introduction: Origin Story Ancestor 1 Ancestral Shadows and the Narrative Inheritance of the “Second Generation” 7 Sacred Stories of the Second-Generation Hispanic Immigrant 12 Parts of the Dissertation 17 Chapter One: The Shadow as Spiritual Initiation Shamanic Practitioner 21 Sleep Paralysis and the Spiritual Connection 25 Social Constructions of the Shadow 31 Toward a Spiritually Sensitive Narrative Therapy 39 The Shamanic Initiation 43 Chapter Two: The Shamanic Journey as a Narrative Method of Communication The Blood Call 51 Cuban Espiritismo and the Communication Training of the Spirit Medium 56 Shamanic Journey as Method 61 Autoethnography, Narrative Inquiry, and Communication Scholarship 69 Ethical Considerations 73 Chapter Three: The Lower World (Where is Home?) Finding an Entryway 76 Going Through Customs 87 Listening for the Call Back 97 Chapter Four: The Upper World (How do I Heal?) Learning my Body 105 Changing my Mind 114 Healing Rifts 125 Chapter Five: The Middle World (What Is My Purpose?) Cultivating Nonordinary Reality 132 Creating Home, Health, and Purpose 142 Reclaiming Bruja 148 Afterword: The Writing Story 153 References 158 i ABSTRACT The aim of this dissertation is to develop and illustrate a spiritually centered narrative method for transforming disorder into agency and action. I use my own position as a second- generation Hispanic female immigrant to show how training in a spiritual practice that mirrors my ancestral traditions helped me productively move through a sense of displacement, illness, and lack of purpose. My research includes travel to Havana, Cuba, and immersion in a five-week shamanic counseling training program in Tampa, Florida, during which I learned how to narrate my experiences as I engaged in shamanic journeying. As I reflect on these experiences, I explore three questions: How can second-generation immigrants 1) overcome family histories of displacement to create a sense of home? 2) engage in self-care practices that promote healing and nourishing relationships? and 3) create healthy identities and a sense of purpose within their communities? Through the process of writing my own story, I move from individual pathology toward communal creativity and tap into the burgeoning activist movement of bruja feminism. ii INTRODUCTION: ORIGIN STORY “She exists in me now, just as I will and already do within my grandchildren. No one ever truly dies. The desires of our hearts make a path. We create legacy with our thoughts and dreams.” (Harjo, 2012) Ancestor The last time I saw my great grandmother, she squeezed my hand as she stared into my face. I was 20 and shy. I forced myself to maintain eye contact through the silence between us. If I couldn’t speak my truth, I would at least give her my attention on what I expected would be our final meeting. She was Elvira Llaurado, our family’s tiny matriarch. At 96, she had shrunken to 4’9”, but she still commanded every space she occupied. I imagined her a luminous royal, her past full of mythic conquests and risky adventures about which I’d never summoned the courage to ask. I wasn’t sure she wanted to relive certain parts of her past. I called my great grandmother abuelita1, because I had never met her daughter. She called me niña2. I ran my thumb along the tiny bones of her hand. Her skin was so soft. Her eyes were somehow bright, though they were clouded with cataracts. 1 Grandmother 2 Child 1 And then she said something, but I can’t remember the words. Right now, I see her sitting in her little atrium full of plants, her mouth moving, the light making a golden frame, as if she were merely a portrait of herself. I can’t hear a thing. Something tells me the exact words aren’t important, anyway. I know what she is saying. She is saying goodbye. -- Elvira was a spirit medium in Santiago de Cuba, where my father was born. She was the person her family turned to for counsel; she conducted séances for her community, connecting people with the loved ones they hadn’t properly parted with and providing services in times of spiritual need. When my father was a kid in Santiago, a neighbor who was said to practice Santería3looked into his eyes, speaking what he couldn’t have known was a spell: “Que bonitos ojos tienes.” What pretty eyes you have. The next morning, he couldn’t open his eyes. Over the following weeks, his parents and grandparents took him to every doctor they knew, but none could get his eyes to open. Suspecting black magic was at play, Elvira called on the support of other spirit mediums, known to my father, colloquially, as “the circle of brujas4.” 3 An Afro-American religion originating in the Caribbean among descendants of West Africa, centered on saint worship and syncretized with Roman Catholicism.