VENESSA’S NOTE 4 SELF PORTRAIT OF AMERICA AS A REVIVAL 7 BROKEN BLESSINGS 9 FREEWRITES 10 INTERVIEW WITH SERGIO JIMENEZ 11 KIARA MOLINA’S WRITING 16 WHAT WOULD I LIKE TO HAVE REMEMBERED? 17 PREY PRAY 20 SINEW 21 LETTER FROM THE EDITOR/ LETTER WRITER FROM IN RESIDENCE THE EDITOR/ WRITER IN RESIDENCE I am overjoyed to share with you this year’s summer edition of The Raven. This year has been full of achievements and celebrations and also an immeasurable amount of pain and loss. All of your submissions have been a small gift. A reason to restore hope. Through all the ups and downs you have faced each challenge with your head held high, and we at Bronx Academy of Letters are extremely proud of each and every one of you. This was my first year at BAL and I’m happy to be a part of the family. It has been a pleasure to learn from you and to witness how resilient you all are in the midst of such uncertainties. The poems, essays, articles, free writes, anonymous anecdotes you have all shared have been nothing short of inspirational. Often, we approach writing as an overwhelming task, even those of us who write as a daily practice. It requires a level of vulnerability we don’t necessarily want to lend ourselves to, but you still have granted me access to your world. I am grateful for the invitation. This issue is meant to showcase your strength, activism, and the ways in which you have all surrendered to your creativity when no one was looking. I know we weren’t expecting our school year to go this way. I know we com- plained about having to go to school, and now all we want is to be able to return safely. I know we are scared of the ways in which our world has changed and the decisions we are now up against, but one thing we can seek solace in knowing is that we are a part of a community that believes in our success. Bronx Academy of Letters has shown me the true beauty in community and I hope you are uplifted by this notion and this issue. I hope this issue is a reminder of your second home, of the ways in which BAL has always, and will always support and love you. I cannot wait for next year! I cannot wait to be a part of your creative minds once again. Until then, I hope you seek refuge in the page. I hope you give your words room to grow. I hope you give your voice a chance to change the world. WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO WITH LOVE, VENESSA M. MARCO ELISABET VELASQUEZ ELISABET VELASQUEZ Elisabet Velasquez is a Boricua Writer from Bushwick, Brooklyn. Her work has been featured in Muzzle Magazine, Winter Tangerine, Centro Voces, Latina Magazine, We Are Mitú, Tidal and more. She is the 2017 Button Poetry Video contest winner. She has received fellowships from Poets House, The Frost Place and The New Jersey Arts Council. Her poems are featured in Martín Espadas Anthology What Saves Us: Poems Of Empathy and Outrage In The Age Of Trump and The BreakBeats Poets Volume 4: LatiNEXT. She is currently working on her first novel to be published by Penguin Random House 2022. SELF PORTRAIT OF AMERICA AS A REVIVAL SELF PORTRAIT OF AMERICA AS A REVIVAL Mami never misses a revival. It is a chance to pray Tomorrow the news is our bible. to dead things Tomorrow another god is dead. like her marriage. ELISABET VELASQUEZ Her body, Tomorrow a street corner lights a a thing she carries like a cross. dozen candles. ELISABET VELASQUEZ Tomorrow a wall takes the shape In America of a face. the police kill Tomorrow a tee shirt is turned men sometimes. memorial. They do not This is how we resurrect the bring them back to life. They still want to be called God. dead. I am a poet Next week a mother joins a obsessed with learning march to save her children. a holy language. She marches like a com- A language that is not mandment. white. I only speak in color. She dares you to break her. In Brooklyn. Her children will know no other In resurrection. god before her. Her face heavy and wooden. An I am a girl who cannot drown. arc amidst a flood of bodies. This makes them call me witch. I make them call me baptized. At revivals, we praise I come from hell the living. before the flame was gentrified. I still remember when the block was hot. At revivals, we dare you to find a tomb The Bible teaches me to brag of riches even if I am broke. to house our gods even if I must die to see it. Which is to say - I own a piece of heaven on layaway. In Brooklyn a revival is held in the deadliest part of town. Tonight heaven is a bank. Tonight someone will cash out. Tonight we only praise the living. BROKEN BLESSINGS BROKEN BLESSINGS By Lourdes Lluisupa I didn’t ask for much Just consistency and honesty Love I give back At one point I wonder am I the one That caused your lack of effort? Is it my fault you showed me No love? What did I do wrong If only you could tell me But you wouldn’t even say a word to me. Perhaps, you didn’t want To talk to me but you should Have told me Instead of causing me pain Instead of bringing me sadness I started to lose hope That maybe this wasn’t meant To happen What ever happened to the Promise Let’s be happier What ever happened to loving each other despite what life throws at us? What happened to us? What made you lose trust in me? Why couldn’t you give me that happiness I wanted? FREEWRITES I really wish people knew that I’m not a quiet person. Everyone who doesn’t really know me thinks that I’m quiet because I don’t talk to them when we are around each other. I am a talkative person to people I really know and people I am with all of the time in school. I wish that they knew thisbecause I don’t want everyone to think that I’m stuck-up because I don’t talk to them. I also like to keep my circle small because nowadays you can’t really trust anybody. I really wish others knew nothing about me because I like a private life. I’ve realized that many people don’t really know much about me which I like, not a lot goes on in my life, but there are some things about me that will shock a lot of people which like I said I like to keep my life private so those things will not be said. Maybe I would want people to know things I hate, like loud people or annoying people or people who joke about anything, or that argue about everything, just obnoxious people. I feel like “I really wish others knew this about me” would be a good topic for poetry it sounds poetic. I really wish others knew that I am a really good person. Everyone’s first reaction about me is that I’m tiny, rude & annoying. I’m literally not that at all. I’m a chill and really a laid back person. If people don’t like that then I don’t know. I have a good personality that people mostly love. However, if I feel like people don’t deserve my good personality, I distance myself from them because they are bad vibes to me. Those types of vibes cause stress and I don’t really need that type of stress at the moment. FREEWRITES One thing I really wish others knew about me is that I’m very blunt. You’re probably like “it’s not that bad,” but it is, people often see me as rude or disrespectful for it, but I like my opinion to be known. Plus my mom taught me to speak my mind no matter who it is or how I feel. This makes my life kinda hard because I just get in trouble if we’re in a school setting. To them, they think I’m a problem starter or something along those lines, but that doesn’t phase me not one bit cause I’m entitled to my own opi- nion. If they can’t handle that then that’s on them. If they get offended by what a teenager has to say then that’s on them. It’s not my fault they can’t handle the truth. Being blunt you deal with lots of outbreaks. For example, if my sister gets me mad, best believe she is going to know what’s going on in my head because I’ll just lose it.