What is this space?
“A Ghost in the Diaspora” is a space where I/you/we discuss what it means to leave the place where you are from, arrive wherever it is you are living now, and reckon with that dislocation. I approach these subjects from my own personal experience as a member of the ever-growing Venezuelan-American diaspora.
My work aims to be both personal and informative. There will be anecdotes, research, connections to pop-culture, literature, etc. Expect about a piece a month.
Who am I, the person writing this?
I am a Venezuelan living on the West Coast of the United States. I left Venezuela many years ago and came to the States. And that’s it. That’s all the demographic information you’re getting right now.
I write under this acronym to protect my identity, given the Venezuelan government’s continuous silencing of dissidents. And well, now the American government’s blatant disregard for Venezuelans. Some of you might think it’s a bit much, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. Maybe someday we’ll meet.
Who are you, the person reading this?
When I’m writing, I’m thinking of reaching:
Citizens of countries who are on the receiving end of the largest migration crisis in the Americas: Maybe you live in a country where some of us 8 million Venezuelans who have left their homeland have landed. Maybe you’ve heard about what’s happening in Venezuela on the news and want to understand more. Maybe you’ve heard the word Venezuela be used over and over again by politicians in your home country and can’t get a sense of what’s real.
I’m not here to present my word as gospel… I am here to present one point of view by one person from this diaspora — of which there will be many differing views!
Members of the Venezuelan diaspora, both in the US and elsewhere: As a culture, we’re not used to living with such displacement; some of us grew up thinking we would never leave the house we grew up in. As we move far and wide, we have to work on creating a community. Of spreading the story of our country to others, and holding space for our collective grief. We have to be here for each other.
Venezuelans back in Venezuela: Venezuela now exists outside of our borders. I hope I can convey to you that we’re proudly carrying our flag wherever we are, that we miss you, that we hope you are safe, and that we love you.
What kind of books do you review?
In my column, A leer, carajo, I review and highlight books either written by members of the Venezuelan diaspora or focused on the concept of diaspora. I don’t get paid for it, and the authors are not privy to reviews prior to publication. That being said, I talk about books you think you’ll enjoy and I think will be worth your precious time.
Policies:
This is not a huge blog, so I never thought I had to do this. However, humanity surprises us all, and we must discuss what is and isn’t acceptable behavior in this liminal space.
People from across the political spectrum may read and comment here. We are welcome to respectful conversations coming from different points of view. But this is a blog, not a bar at closing time. And if you’re going to behave like it’s 2 a.m. and you need to go home, I will behave like a bouncer and get you out of here.
Insults, verbal hostility, and provocations will all result in a quick ban. If I sense that you’re attempting to create unnecessary drama in the comments section, I will ban you. If I sense you are acting in bad faith, I will ban you. I aim to make folks who are here to learn and respectfully engage feel comfortable doing so, and if I feel that is not a concern of yours, guess what? I will ban you.
If you think I have unfairly banned you, feel free to try to reach me.
