Translating the Stories of Marginalized Communities Into Poetry
Photo: Rob Schilke
Book jacket biographies don’t tell us nearly enough about the authors we love. That’s why Zibby Mag launched the Author Spotlight, giving readers an inside look at the lives and work of their favorite writers.
Ricardo Ruiz had an unlikely path to poetry. It wasn’t until 2016, when he returned home from serving two tours in Afghanistan, that Ruiz decided to enroll in the University of Washington; he quickly discovered that writing was an effective way to treat his combat PTSD.
His experience as a first-generation Mexican American and combat veteran informs much of his work and was the impetus for his debut collection We Had Our Reasons, which came out in May of this year. His poems share the stories of family and friends who immigrated to America in search of a better life while highlighting marginalized voices from the rural community that raised him.
In time for National Hispanic Heritage Month, Ruiz gives us a deeper insight into his powerful and innovative poetry.
How did We Had Our Reasons come about?
This was never intended to become a book. We Had Our Reasons started as a way for me to learn about my parent’s decision to emigrate from Mexico to the United States. My children are now removed from the migrant worker life I was raised in, so I also wanted them to understand that their grandparents made a choice that has provided them with so much opportunity. I wanted to record and document these stories so they’ll be available in the future in the words of those who lived it.
How did you land on the title?
The title didn’t come until late in the project. My wife and I took a step back and realized that this book was trying to show the humanity and interiority of people within my community. We Had Our Reasons / Teníamos Nuestras Razones provides the reader an entrance point to what I hope is an understanding of why a person would forsake their homes, friends, and family for the hope of a better life and security—why a person would risk living in a state of fear and struggle in a place not always kind to immigrants.
What did you want to tell the world about the migrant farm community of Washington State?
That we are here. A marginalized community is one that is not spoken of and forgotten about. In many ways, the agricultural workers in Eastern Washington are not spoken of within the state conversations, let alone the national conversation. In 2021, Washington produced $10.2 Billion dollars of revenue from agriculture according to the economic research service, ranking 15th among U.S. states. Much of that work is done primarily by migrant workers. Washington apples, milk, potatoes, cherries, corn, asparagus, and so much more are served on tables across this nation, so it’s important to me to have readers learn a little more about the people who bring us the food we enjoy, which happens to be the community that I come from.
How did your time in the military shape your idea of America and its relationship to the rest of the world?
I served two tours in Afghanistan. During my time there I have seen great poverty and destruction. After returning home to Washington in 2016, I began to see my community through a new lens. In 2016, the president was vilifying Latinx immigrants. What was happening internally for me was a separation of ideals about the United States. I began to think deeply about how my actions in combat affected individuals with whom I’d been in contact. In my personal life, I was seeing the effects of presidential policies on people I cared about. My best friend, a DACA recipient brought over at 3 years old, was struggling with what would happen if he lost his status and was deported to a place he did not know.
The military provided me with a unique perspective on the ideas of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, especially for Dreamers and children who have been raised in the United States.
Your brother is an ICE agent—is there any tension in being from a family of immigrants and also a member of law enforcement?
My brother is an ICE agent in Washington State. We don’t always agree on everything, but I love him nonetheless. Our conversations get heated and uncomfortable. Yet, he is my brother—the same person who sent care packages monthly on every deployment. It’s a practice for me in unconditional love. I don’t have to support the agency he works for to love him but by maintaining this love, we both can share openly and discuss the hardest topics.
There is a need for public safety in the United States. We cannot simply do away with border security, but the system as currently designed is failing. People do not have pathways to citizenship. Families should not be separated and children should not be taken from parents. There is a need to address international policies of destabilization of South American countries and America’s role in that. Until real immigration reform takes place there will be unrest along the borderlands. It is heartbreaking to see humans being used as pawns as happened recently with governors sending people to random cities to score political points.
Why was it important to include side-by-side English and Spanish translations?
First, I hope it shows how language acts as a boundary. It can be isolating to people within the same household if a child does not speak their parents’ native language, which happens frequently with first- and second-generation immigrants. Second, multilingual readers can see the changes in color that comes through a different tongue. Brianna Salinas did an amazing job trying to capture the essence of the poem instead of just words on paper.
Also, I don’t remember ever having a conversation with my mother in English. Many of the storytellers from my community are not native English speakers. It was always of utmost importance for myself and Pulley Press to offer the work in both languages.
Why did you choose poetry as your medium?
Poetry has given me the gift of life. When I was struggling with PTSD after transitioning from the Army, poetry came to me as a way to process my emotions and trauma. The craft of poetry—and how language is deconstructed and reimagined in the mind of the reader—provides insights that are different from prose. I enjoy the vividness, flavor, and emotion a short poem can convey, like a bite into a vine-ripened tomato in the middle of summer. It is also one of the oldest mediums of storytelling.
Plus, poetry is just plain cool.
What’s next for Ricardo Ruiz?
I’m looking into the right Master of Fine Arts program (MFA) to continue developing my craft as a poet. Also, my current attention when not sharing We Had Our Reasons is to examine my experiences in the military. As time has passed since I served in combat my feelings about my actions have changed. This change has left me wanting to explore the feelings of my fellow service members. I’m currently working on a collection of poetry written in a similar format to We Had Our Reasons to show why someone may want to enlist during a time of war, sharing stories of combat, and how their views change over time.
At the end of the day, I plan to continue ushering in inventive new poetry and prose that brings joy and new thoughts into my life.