I’ve written most of this perzine project I’m working on called Malcriada, about my childhood, my experiences with assimilation and abolishing the idea that abuse is a cultural norm. And being back home right now, and writing all of these things hours after kissing my family members good night has my conscience feeling heavier and heavier. This conversation about POC and child abuse is making me think twice about how I’m going to discuss this. I started it as a purge, as a way to work out my feelings towards the abuse I endured, and how fucked it was that I disowned my culture because of it. Child abuse shouldn’t be something we associate with ____ culture; it took me a lot of unlearning and a lot of conversations with other survivors to figure that one out.

Yes, there are systemic, socioeconomic factors at play in child abuse, but denouncing the abuse itself does not ignore those factors nor condemn the communities in which it’s prevalent. I’ve had so many instances in taking care of white Manhattanite children in which I’ve thought to myself, “If I did that, my mama would have clapped me in the mouth,” etc., as if any of that worked for me. It didn’t make me feel any better or stronger for enduring that. If anything, it made me more fearful and distrustful of adults and authority figures. It continues an ugly cycle of submission, one which benefits those who oppress us by teaching us never to talk back.

I want to write about forgiveness, even if I’m not quite there yet, emotionally. I write my stories out of both love and pain. I write so that I can work out the distinction between respect and fear. It’s only part of the processing I’m already doing with my parents. I don’t know what is the “right” or “wrong” way of going about writing this zine, but I need to write it out and I want to use this zine to reach out to others who may be doing the same processing.

I’m not really looking for an answer so much as some reassuring words from other confessional writers/zinesters/what have you. It’s just weighing heavily on my mind, as the NYC zinefest is approaching and my partner will have to print it all out in a couple of days to distribute. Ugh ugh ugh.