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Erika Abad

Aunt Lute Press: El Mundo Zurdo’s Call for Collective Solidarity



When I planned on participating in El Mundo Zurdo 10, I never imagined I’d have the chance to visit the Benson Library’s Gloria Anzaldúa papers. Moderating Yael Valencia Aldana’s Black Mestiza, I felt called to look up anything regarding Luisah Teish. Reading the forty-year-old letters paralleled the conversations colegas and I were having over meals, in between panels, and hanging by the local pool. As overwhelmed as we feel, in times like these we need each other more than ever.


Throughout El Mundo Zurdo, I found myself reflecting with other artist-activist-educators exhausted by the strains on academic freedom, institutional salaries, funding and support, and the political uncertainty of the current moment. Despite these ongoing struggles, it remains important to support institutions, like Aunt Lute Books, which invested in the freedom of thought and radical visions we have for the future. El Mundo Zurdo 10 hosted Norma E. Cantú, Sonya Alemán, and Rita Urquijo-Ruiz who called on attendees’ support for the organization during our lunch (Thursday, May 16, 2024).


As we grabbed our lunches, Norma, among other conference organizers, directed us toward the lunch meeting room. As we walked into the auditorium-styled classroom, Rita took to the mic and encouraged us to sit beside each other, touching at least our neighbor’s elbow. A website with a fundraising tracker appeared on two large screens. Once the room was mostly filled, Norma stepped to the mic and explained the urgency. Aunt Lute Books struggled because their distributor suddenly closed down on March 28th. As a result, they had been struggling to track books and recover from three months of lost revenue.

 

The collective effort of senior scholars to donate to the publisher and editors who invested time and energy to publish Anzaldúa’s Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza spoke to the other side of Teish’s correspondence with Anzaldúa. In times of political precarity, with our intellectual, academic, and creative freedoms at risk, senior scholars’ requests landed with as much urgency and compassion.


Senior colleagues were very mindful of our capacity. While the fundraising page has monthly donation options, they also provided a blank option so we could contribute what we could afford. Additionally, Joan Pinkvoss, co-founder and prior executive director of Aunt Lute Books, joined the effort by offering to collect donations at their table next to registration area. Rita set the goal of matching her and Norma’s donations by the end of lunch.


Watching the donation number go from two to three to four digits, the crowd cheered. Artists and rising scholars come to the podium, donating honorariums, art pieces, and workshops to encouraged us to give more.


As a writer, I have witnessed the disappearance of several U.S.-Puerto Rican and U.S.-Dominican-run blogs where my work was published. As a Chicago-born scholar, I remember the struggles of Latine booksellers and the impact on intellectual community gatherings and literary support. This national call for action highlights that saving our publishers is about more than just ensuring people have access to books—it's about preserving cultural spaces and community connections.


Watching donors’ contributions exceed the $5000 goal by the time I finished my sandwich and chips, I found myself contemplating the power of the kinship between artist-activists like Luisah Teish and Gloria Anzaldúa.  The call serves as a reminder of what it means to preserve and support publishing institutions invested in the gamut of our creative and intellectual potential. Writing for many of us stems from our rootedness in our communities and our desire to ensure that those who come after us see themselves on bookshelves. Editing and publishing functions similarly.


Borderlands’ relationship with Aunt Lute Books serves as a case study of what ethical solidarity looks like. Staying with Aunt Lute Books, despite its fame, speaks to remaining loyal to those who believed in the text when no one else did. At a time when the way we write what we write for a better world may feel uncertain, the smaller presses and editors who work with us and invest in the dream of a better and more just world catalyze what more we can dream.


This call to action embodies the theme of this El Mundo Zurdo meeting: Solidarity Building as Light in the Dark. It serves as a reminder of why, despite difficulties like Teish’s, so many of us stay in higher education. Many of us believe in young people’s right to dream and to see their dreams as possible.


As a curator, writer, and fan convention participant, I have seen the power of the many piece-mealing their resources because our voices matter.  Returning to El Mundo Zurdo after being away since before quarantine,I was reminded of how Chicanas brought us together to support the press behind one of our most critical texts—Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza. This stands as a powerful example that, even in times of precarity, we are stronger together.


It's a message to carry with us always—the hope that what we can accomplish together can serve as a light during these dark times.


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