And Social Justice for All, with Sussy Santana
Photo by Giovanni Savino
Poetry is Sussy Santana’s main medium for creative expression. She makes "llamados," or "calls" to community members and artists collaborators to participate in collective performance. Santana is Project Manager for the Providence chapter of Arts for Everybody, author of Pelo Bueno y otros poemas (2010), RADIO ESL, a poetry cd (2012), and the chapbook Poemas Domésticos (2018) and in 2015, was the first Latina writer to win the MacColl Johnson Fellowship. You can catch her as a special guest this October 19th at Grant Jam ‘24, a free panel talk night at AS220 hosted by the Myrtle-supported Awesome Foundation Rhode Island.
TW: Who was your first audience?
SS: Rocks. I vividly remember being little, maybe five or six, and picking up rocks in my neighborhood to bring them on the bus with us when we went out. My mom just asked me the other day, if I remember doing that! We didn't have a car so we took public transportation wherever we went. I would pick up tiny rocks and tell them they were going to visit their cousins in another town. I had a whole little ceremony with them about how they had to say goodbye to everyone and go on a new adventure, visiting their other rock relatives. I would get emotional when it was time to part ways, but off they went to rock on.
TW: What does East Providence, land of sandstone and shale, mean to you?
SS: Providence is my home, at this point in my life I have lived in the United States longer than I lived in my birth country, and a lot of that time has been spent in Providence. While I go back to the Dominican Republic almost every year, when I think of "mi casa," I'm thinking PVD. When I think of East Providence, I think of how many hours I spent in the parking lot of the Philharmonic building, waiting for my oldest daughter to get out of her RI Children Chorus rehearsals. Rhode Island is where my affections are contained, it has a special place in my heart.
Above: Santana doing a pop-up performance at a local market
TW: What was childhood in the DR like?
SS: In the Dominican Republic, I lived with my mom and my sister. We moved around a lot because my mom was a teacher and every year she went to teach at a new school, which also meant we had to switch schools. It sucked to move around so much back then, but it taught us to be comfortable with change.
TW: How old were you when you came to the USA? How was the adjustment?
SS: We moved to the Bronx the Summer I turned 14. It was a time of discoveries, learning a new language, getting on the subway for the first time, and listening to Metallica! I always thought the United States was like the movies, I was thinking Times Square and the Empire State. It was more like bodegas and Spanglish, Puerto Rican flags everywhere! We were embraced by a Latin American community of hard working people, my mom included, who came to this country to do their best, and they did, and they did it while listening to loud salsa and merengue.
TW: The Bronx and Washington Heights are major hubs for Dominican Americans, yeah? What inspired the move?
SS: You remember right, Washington Heights (Manhattan) is a hub for Dominican Americans, and where my mom had her business, a botánica, for 30 years. I lived there my last years in NY; before that I lived in the Bronx. Mine is the classic immigrant story. Mom lost her job in DR, came to the US for a better life, brought us here. The end. Of course, this omits the constitutions of a “better life” because that is always under construction, especially as we incorporate new understandings and experiences.
Above: Goya and gold. Santana in Providence. Photo by Jenny Polanco.
TW: You seemed to be enthusiastic about Metallica...
SS: I absolutely love Metallica. I just went to see them last month at Gillette; took my girls and husband with me. It was a family affair. Metallica was my first live concert (in English) in the United States. I worked a whole weekend—doing inventory at a pharmacy in the Bronx—to pay for my ticket. Faith No More and Guns n Roses were also playing that night. Giant Stadium, New Jersey, I think it was 1992. Metal was a huge part of my teenage years. It allowed me to release some of the frustration I felt about moving to a new place. I bonded with people in my high school over music, which really allowed me to practice my English. I could scream the words and nobody would know if I was pronouncing it right or not. It was great! Highly recommended for anyone looking to learn English!
TW: Metal knows no borders! Related to language learning, we’re curious about your international travels and projects. What stands out?
SS: I went to Italy a while back where I learned I can eat all day and walk more than I thought possible. I also went on a creative trip to Chile, where I met brilliant women, many who were artists. Together with artists Ela Alpi and Shey Rivera Rios, we created a performance called Próceres and intervened monuments in the city of Santiago to address the lack of representation of women in historical monuments that are housed in public spaces. It was a meaningful action to all of us, as we tried to visualize the contributions of women in our society. It's not that men haven’t done things worth celebrating, it's that in the process of honoring those achievements, we forget the contributions of other people. But don't worry, we are here to remind you! From that experience, I learned from the wisdom of so many women, young and old. I learned to also value the wisdom that I carry. It's important to honor both.
TW: Before international residencies and being a published poet...can you think back to any early lessons learned? Like when you were coming into your own.
SS: I was so nervous during my first job interview that I mispronounced my own name. When the lady introduced herself, I was like: "Hi, my name is Sushi Santana." We just couldn't stop laughing, I still got the job, but I was mortified. I learned the importance of not taking yourself too seriously!
TW: Your work with the Creative Community Health Worker Fellowship...where do the arts and public health intersect?
SS: Artists are always contributing to public health, art is a healing practice, I’m intentional about engaging people in the creative process because I know from my own experience that it makes you feel better. It works. I’m interested in a culture that allows people to feel, communicate emotions, embrace their own creativity, and art does all of that.
Above: Documentation of an intervention on Broad Street. Video still by Cormac Crump.
TW: We read somewhere this kind of runs in your family?
SS: My mom has a spiritual healing practice; she had a show on cable (NY) about ancestral wisdom. The concept of healing through ritual, in my case, the ritual of writing and performance is a very comfortable place. I grew up around that. My paternal grandfather, Anselmo, was a medicine man. He was love personified; his presence was healing to everyone around him. He taught us the value of love, the importance of feeling loved. I think people who participate in the creative process are engaging in that type of kindness, even if for a brief moment, you are using the best of you to create something. I work to hold that space because it creates a healthier community, it’s public health.
TW: Going back...you mentioned the artist Ela Alpi and for a second we thought you said El Alfa. Quite different but, here’s another music question. Was/is dembow a big thing for you? What were you listening to as a teen back in the DR?
SS: Dembow as we know it now, wasn’t really big when I was a teenager in DR. What was popular was El General, a Panamanian artist who started a whole movement that eventually progressed into everything that is known now in the realm of Dembow and reggaeton. Obviously, Jamaican Dancehall music and reggae influenced the work of El General, but he was one of the first to do it in Spanish.
I went back to live in DR when I turned seventeen until I was twenty. My influences came from my sister who was really into Rock en Español and I listened to whatever she was playing. I think that first contact opened the doors to other bands and I eventually started listening to Spanish rock stations in DR who also played songs in English. She also loved Bob Marley and we used to listen to him all the time. We partied all the time, I don’t ever remember anyone checking my ID, we used to go bars and clubs with a bunch of friends. It was fun.
TW: Do you play or sing yourself?
SS: I'm interested in music, all different genres, languages. Live music always energizes me, it makes me want to create and explore. I don't play any instruments or sing, but I'm inspired by the experience of live music, theater, movies, etc. I love going to fall festivals, it's my favorite time of year, nature is so magnificent, fall landscapes inform my practice in many subtle ways.
TW: Scrolling through your blog now…there’s documentation of a few events described as being Fluxus-based. What’s your relationship to the movement?
SS: I love that it [Fluxus] is all about process; it doesn't have to be the totality of anything. It allows for a glimpse which is very much what we get in any given interaction.
Above: Outside Gillette Stadium, ready for metal.
TW: We’re close to wrapping up here...before we go, what are a few books everyone should read?
SS: La loca de la casa, by Rosa Montero and Dominicanish by Josefina Báez
TW: Let’s end with this: What are you doing tomorrow?
SS: I'm currently doing a poetry tour of small businesses in Providence. I've stopped at bodegas, supermarkets, and barbershops on Broad Street. Pop-up style. No announced days, I just go and walk in somewhere. This is ongoing work...
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You can follow Sussy on instagram at @lapoetera, and via her website.
