By Alexandria Villegas
FROM: 7500 Magazine
It was approximately 7:00pm on February 27th, 2020 when I sat down with poet Luivette Resto in the small courtyard of Woodbury University’s campus library, empty and silent in the late-night hour. As a slight chill settled in the air, we chatted to the soothing patter of the courtyard fountain, occasionally pausing our conversation as we listened to the droning roar of an airplane flying overhead, courtesy of the nearby Burbank airport. Illuminated by the soft yellow glow of the lights strung above us, we talked about Luivette’s work, her inspiration, goals, and her commitment to living an “unapologetic” life.
When did you first find you had a love for writing?
I was always a big reader as a kid. I’m an only child who lived in New York City, and so going to the library became a thing for me. It’s a place where I would go, and I would check out the limit. It was like fifteen books, and I would check out the fifteen max and return them. Fifteen and then come back. And so I passed the time reading, and eventually I started writing my own little short stories because I was reading all these things, so I was like: alright, I’ll try and do my own thing. So I think in seventh grade I started writing. I have a memory of writing these little silly chapters and then putting the chapters in my eyeglass case. I don’t even know where those pages are, sadly enough. But I think if I had to rewind my mind, it would probably be starting in seventh grade. I distinctly remember having that memory of writing little chapters of books, YA books that never came to be, in seventh grade. So that was probably the earliest memory I have of writing and wanting to write. And then it just kind of took off from there, and then it really didn’t. I really didn’t take it seriously until I got to college.
Where do you find the most inspiration for your work?
You know, it’s just basically anything I’ve experienced. I feel like every day there’s a moment where I’m always thinking, this is a poem. This moment right now. This thing that she said. This thing that this person said is a poem. So, I think just living, has always inspired, or continues to inspire.
Do you have a set process when writing poetry?
(laughs) No. I’m laughing because I have kids, and there is no set process when you have children. It’s really difficult. I definitely had a process before I had kids, and I was pretty regimented. And then I started having kids and then that went to s***. So now I write when I can and I write when I have quiet space and time, but when I am in that space, what I’ve noticed is that I need music to write. I cannot write in silence. That bothers me. I can read in silence, actually I prefer to read in silence. But when I’m writing I prefer to have instrumental in the background. And so that’s part of the process I guess, that there has to be music.
A lot of your poems deal with racial inequality, particularly the mistreatment of Latin Americans in our society. A prominent example is your poem “No More Tacos in Gwinnett County,” from your second poetry collection, Ascension. One particular stanza that stood out to me read: “A sub owner had followed Georgia with a sign of his own. ‘This is America. When ordering, speak English.’ In the kitchen, Manuel and Juan diced peppers and onions in silence.” What do you think is the importance of using art to call attention to such prejudices in our increasingly polarized society?
I think that when it comes to politics, art is everywhere, especially nowadays with our administration that we’ve had for the past 4 years now. It’s the opportunity for artists to thrive. We need artists the most when we’re living in times like this to document, to inspire, to give voice, to give face to groups that do not have the opportunity or the resources. And so when I wrote that poem it was truly based upon a newspaper article that I read. It came up on my home screen and it was one of the items that came up that said “No More Tacos in Gwinnett County.” And I was like, what the hell is this about, and I clicked on it. And the article, everything in the poem was true. Gwinnett County, Georgia really believed that if they got rid of taco stands and taco trucks, that all the immigrants would leave Gwinnett County. They believed that the taco was the epicenter of this immigration issue that they were having with all these Mexicans, and if you got rid of the tacos then the Mexicans would leave. Which was absolutely the most absurd s*** that I’ve ever f***ing heard. So I think that to answer your question, I think the importance of using art is that I just feel like it’s vital. There are so many different ways to document, to tell a story, to give an opinion with art. I’m very blessed to be in the community that I’m in. That I’m in a room full of artists, and we’re all challenging each other in the best way possible. And unfortunately, what we live in these days is a constant source of inspiration and I think also to be an artist these days is a form of rebellion, and I think it’s revolutionary. Our existence is political. There’s no way that you can walk around saying, no I’m not a political person. The fact that you’re a woman, that’s a political stance by itself. If you are a woman of color, that’s twice as much, right? And to be an artist I think that it’s our duty. I think there’s a calling, and if you have that calling to be an artist, then it is your duty to carve out some time to document, and to immortalize what’s going on right now. It is our job. If not, then what are we doing with our talents. Read Rest of Article Here
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