Don't Shake the Spoon Volume 4 Editor Blog Gissell Del Castillo
Memories and Identity
During the editing process of Don’t Shake the Spoon Vol. 4, we attempted to make minimal suggestions and focused mainly on verifying that the pieces stayed as close to the original submissions as possible. We did this in a conscious effort to try and keep the author voices authentic. I vividly remember the day we paired each piece with the corresponding author bio. In school, we are taught that biographies (no matter how short) should represent who we are. We are also told they should give readers an insight into who we believe ourselves to be, and be as close to showcasing our essence as possible.
What struck me as interesting about the bio’s from DSTS Vol. 4 was the significant number of writers who identified themselves in relation to others. Authors in this collection described themselves as music fans, wives, parents, grandparents, brothers and sisters, former educators, avid readers, sports fans, granddaughters, students, and community members. This, to me, highlights the importance of community, influence, and human connection. Moreover, it uncovered a set of adjectives for self-descriptors I have since not been able to stop using. I am now more conscious of when and how often I identify myself as a sister, student, artist, reader, and volunteer. I now take pride in the connections I use to describe the labels that state who I am. I look forward to the dreaded “Tell us about yourself” questions, because it’s now a way I can showcase how my home communities comprise the bits of my personality that add up to my whole.
Directly underscoring this idea in her bio, Kizza Lopez highlights the importance of being seen and heard. By comparing her Bio with her piece titled “Where I’m From,” we can ask as readers whether there exists a connection between her memories and her identity. By doing so, we inevitably ask ourselves if there is a connection between our memories, our relationships, and our essence. Through this poem, readers are able to see a connection between her self-recognized place within her community and her place within a family, which ultimately bolsters the significance of the title. Similarly, in his piece “The First Time,” Water Dog describes a universal recollection: the childhood search for approval. Frankly, after reading this piece, I deeply deliberated which childhood validations created my own ego, and by contrast, which juvenile disapprovals created my own flaws. Leann Parker marvelously showcases the impact of relationship-based memories on identity in her piece “Free.” Here, she candidly - and courageously - highlights her relationship with God, juxtaposed with the personal growth she has achieved, as a messy, ongoing dialogue. Both connections are vital to how she projects her inner character and conflicts. And most importantly, the piece suggests that these are both connections that are still morphing, and changing with the times. Gary Miller’s “Food Can Bring Us Together” is an entirely multi-sensory experience heightened only by the recurring theme of connectedness, which also acknowledges that recollection sometimes slaps us in the face and is difficult to shake off.
This year, we received over 80 submissions from four different correctional facilities, and then we began the process of collecting, evaluating, transcribing, editing, and distributing the suggested edits. This is all before we recollected the revised manuscripts, redistributed the new edits for final review, and collected last-draft approvals. But it was pivotal for us to make sure we didn’t skip any steps in the standard editorial process, no matter how painful. And it was painful, because we were working within the constraints of the prison industrial complex. This means that with every aspect of collection and distribution, someone from Exchange for Change’s team had to make the one-hour(+) trip down to the correctional facility, go through airport-like security, and hope the author consultations weren’t interrupted by lockdown or any other number of seemingly infinite variables. E4C prides itself on making sure that authors feel ownership over their work, and also that they feel essential throughout the publishing process, because they are.
The diverse problems, and nostalgic musings each author has chosen to highlight, are really important when considering the private memories and components of identity the authors have now made public. By circulating their writing, but also their personal memories and connections to the outside public, these writers not only share individual deliberations, but also the important interactions and motivations that comprise both small and large fractions of each author’s multitudes. Moments that these authors were repeatedly reminded about through the extensive editorial process. One of the largest takeaways for me was also recognizing that the experiences these writers are choosing to unpack with us in this volume may still be ongoing, with further potential life-changing impacts. In a sense, this makes DSTS a living, beating, and breathing testament. To me, this is best shown through the complete collection of memories and connections they have shared with us beautifully, compassionately, creatively, fiercely, dangerously, and deeply.