Welcome back to the conclusion of our interview with the wonderful Virginia Bulacio. I am incredibly grateful for the opportunity I had to sit down and talk to such a wise and gentle being. Virginia’s poetry has allowed me to open my heart up to the grief and joy of what it truly feels like to be an immigrant. To always be waiting for home, in this country, in our countries of birth and within ourselves as we continue to live in the liminal space between cultures.
CHRISTIAN PENA: I appreciate how you incorporated the phases of the moon into the sections of your book. Do you feel like Luna Inmigrante is a collection of the phases that you went through as you navigated growing up as an immigrant in this country?
VIRGINIA BULACIO: Wow, that is an interesting question. I would say yes. You know I left Argentina when I was just a teenager and I wasn’t expecting to stay here. I really thought that I would be coming back. I think maybe subconsciously I began putting Luna Inmigrante together through the phases of my life with the intention of telling a story not only through poetry but through the moon. You know in Luna Nueva my poetry is about being a girl from Argentina and then Luna Cresciente is this new journey I was on being a teenager in this country. Learning a new language and trying to carve out my own identity. En Luna Llena, I am now a mother and the phases of motherhood return me again to Luna Nueva. But at the time of me putting it together. Luna Llena is supposed to signify the full circle of my life, in which I get what I always wanted and that is to become a mother.
CP: Has becoming a mother, as an immigrant, allowed you to redefine what home means to you?
VB: Wow, that is very deep. I feel like we can talk for hours!
CP: Haha
VB: I think it has in that, this disconnection with myself and my identity, this separation from myself in becoming a mother has made me long for home even more. Throughout the book and as I continue the phases of the book, I grapple with my identity trying to figure it out on this journey. In Luna Llena, at the end I am a woman, who is supposed to be realized and now self-actualized — but really I am not.
I wrote this poem at the end of the book called New Home — I get so emotional, but it’s the last one and I write something like, “After everything I have been through, hearing him call me ‘Mamá’ that is my new home. And maybe it doesn’t matter where I am, as long as I am that for him. I grew up in Argentina, I was a teenager having just immigrated to the US. Where is home now? Where is my home? Where do I look for home.
The moon is full, La Luna Llena, and I look at my son and realize I am his home. I myself have become a home. Yo soy su refugio.1 And in some way that completes the cycle of the moon. You’d think right (haha) — but motherhood is never-ending.
The moon is full, La Luna Llena, and I look at my son and realize I am his home. I myself have become a home.
CP: I think I might cry! [laughs] But I completely understand what you mean. I think especially for us as immigrants. Home can mean so many different things to so many different people within the undocumented diaspora. When we become mothers, in order to settle some of that grief that happens when we feel that disconnection within ourselves and our identity, we must preserve and hold onto parts of our culture; it’s in the hopes of passing on those pieces to our kids.
VB: And there is an added layer of difficulty when you grew up in this country and have had to learn a whole new culture. I was born in Argentina, pero la personlidad — esta parte mia a crecido mas en Estados Unidos.2
One of the things that I developed is this desire to support immigrants in any way that I can. Not only through my writing but when I volunteer at the border, when I organize fundraisers or toy drives. Being an immigrant is also being in community and I am always thinking about como puedo ayudar a mas familias inmigrantes 3
I’m wondering if I might be able to ask you a question?
CP: Okay, sure.
VB: When do you find the time to write as a mom?
CP: I think whenever I can, really. I write when I am waiting for my daughter to get out of school or at the clinic when my son is at his occupational therapy appointments, or when the baby is taking a nap. Anywhere and wherever.
VB: Wow, I am very proud of you for continuing to write. And I am very glad that we got to connect through Luna Inmigrante.
CP: Thank you so much, it has truly been a gift from the Universe.
Propina
If you missed the first half of our conversation with Viginia Bulacio, check it out here:
Virginia is hosting a poetry workshop in Los Angeles next month. Details can be found here:
Lastly, we know there are substantial developments with regards to US immigration policy this week.
We’ll be sharing some insights soon. See you next week!
I am his refuge.
but my identity — this part of me has developed in the US.
how can I help more immigrant families