Letter from the Editor: November
This is def just because I'm a Scorpio (and am like, really really into it tbh, bye haters), but allllll I can think about every time November rolls around is IT'S #SCORPIOSEASON Y'ALL!!! And to get personal, being born in the 11th month with my birthdate numerology also being 11 (and turning 33 this year), that's a lot of master numbers popping off. November holds the vibration of 11, a sacred number in numerology that represents divinity, rebirth, and higher consciousness. The week leading up to this month, I feel like a light switch literally flicked in my head. Confusion transformed into clarity, the moves I need to make in life (and for this site) became more obvious, the end goals suddenly feel more achievable. Not just for me personally, but for all peeps - this is going to be a power month for all of us to turn our goals into action. To cut ties to the past that no longer serve us, to turn a new corner. I feel like Scorpios get a bad rap (obviously, I have some personal feelings invested here) but I choose to see the energies of death and rebirth not as scary, but rather, as a catalyst for change. And while stepping into the unknown can be daunting, one thing I do know is that change is necessary and inevitable for growth.
Here in the states, November is also National Native American Heritage Month. As children of the diaspora, I believe it's important to connect to and honor the people of this land that we've settled on, to defer to them, to listen and learn. Growing up, I was lucky to have somewhat of a connection to my Indigenous American roots through my paternal grandmother - but like my Filipina side, the connection is very fragmented, the stories were never fully told or understood. I know she grew up as a migrant worker in New Mexico, living in makeshift homes with her parents and siblings, hunting for their dinner. She grew up to be a beautiful woman who had a love for the finer things; she passed down to me a mink-lined coat from the late 40's that she had scraped and saved to buy for herself from her job as a secretary, one of the only professions available to women at the time. I remember I used to love going to her home, surrounded by Pueblo art - rugs, textiles, pottery, Kachina dolls, paintings of native mythology and rituals - it was all fascinating to me as a child. Now that she has passed, I wish I had asked her so much more, had learned so much more from her.
I suppose that's what we're trying to do here, as children of diaspora - preserve, make sense of, see how the pieces fit. Let's continue to push, make sure that it's not all lost. As the world continues to globalize at a terrifying pace, it's up to us to slow down, connect, document, revive. Here's hoping you all can take some time to rest, rejuvenate, handle your business, and step out on the other side of this season in all of your power.