Acknowledgements

A Field of Gratitude

Hometown cemetery.

Shrine at the foot of Tumamoc Hill. Photo by Alicia.

I was raised in a rich Mexican borderlands lifeworld in which my parents taught me, from birth, that we are not alone. The ancestors, the saints, the divine field of support are all with us. My dad raised us to stop by the cemetery as casually as we might drop by to see an old friend for coffee--not letting too much time go by in between visits. My mom always reserved a wall in our home for the ancestors' photographs, so they became part of the fabric of daily life.

I honor all the unknown ways in which the seeds of this work have been watered by ancestors across time and space. I honor the Madres de Maíz, the Corn Mothers, who have nourished the peoples of these lands for millennia.

I honor my partner, Matthew, who daily takes a wild leap of faith in supporting me in this work. I honor my daughter who reminds me every day that the ancestors return--and they are powerful!. I honor my sister who started putting me to work in service of the ancestors almost as soon as I'd moved back to Arizona.

I honor the land guardians of the Sonoran Desert and the Tucson Basin. I honor Cemamagi Du’ag, or Horned Lizard Mountain, otherwise known as Tumamoc Hill. Here I offer my most heartfelt prayers to the ancestors and the guardians of these lands.

I acknowledge that I live and work on the lands of the Tohono O'odham Nation and Pascua Yaqui Tribe. I also acknowledge that the history of Tucson is deeply tied to the Camp Grant Massacre, a brutal massacre of Aravaipa Apache families. May there be healing and restorative repair on these lands.

Alma de Mujer

Visiting Madre del Mundo at Alma de Mujer. Photo by Beth Ebbing.

I simply would not be on this path without the community of Alma de Mujer Center for Social Change in Austin, TX. In 2009, at a time when my soul ached, and I felt depleted and uninspired, I stumbled into the community of Alma de Mujer. Here, I met Indigenous and Chicanx elders who took me in. Without my even understanding what was happening, they started to work on me, mentor me, and model for me a way of being that I would never learn in the books. In short, they set about to help me decolonize and reclaim the Indigenous ways of knowing of my ancestors.

I centered my entire dissertation on my experiences with my elders at Alma. I honor mentors and friends of a lifetime at Alma: Cynthia, Yvette, Gloria, Modesta, Velia, Lourdes, Iris, Sylvia, Graciela. I honor Maria Elena Martinez who took me by the hand and gave me the life-changing task of becoming a caretaker of the Medicine Wheel Garden.

I honor my soul sister Beth Ebbing who served with me on the Alma Council and shares such a deep love for the land, the elders, the plants, and healing.

I honor dear hermana del alma, Brenda Sendejo. We met at Alma, and we have walked with these elders together and woven magic over Marco Polos through ups and downs. Brenda has written the book that brings the fierce love and wisdom of the elders to the world: Chicana Spiritual Activism.

Ancestor altar at Alma de Mujer. Photo by Alicia.

I honor Marsha Gomez (1951-1998), one of the founding mothers at Alma de Mujer. I never met Marsha in person but feel her so strongly. I will forever be grateful for her vision and offerings to the world. She created the iconic sculpture known as Madre del Mundo that sits at Alma. I know that Marsha continues her work as a wise ancestor.

Maestres

Me and Rev. Virginia Marie on Guadalupe Tonantzin's Feast day.

Blue corn seeds from Eamon for Corn Mother's basket.

It is thanks to Alma de mujer that I met my beloved maestra in the medicina of curanderismo, Rev. Virginia Marie Rincon. Maestra Virginia Marie has been with me through thick and thin, guiding me with such wisdom and care and encouragement to walk the paths truest to my heart and soul. I honor her maestra, Elena Avila, a great curandera from El Paso and New Mexico. I honor my compadre Logan Sparks, who is friend, teacher, and wise counsel to me. His guidance in the medicina, family constellations, land healing, and alchemy has been a continued blessing as I continue to walk this path.

I honor shamanic practitioner and dear friend Eamon Willow Davies who has walked with me through so many challenges, changes, and periods of descent. Through Eamon Willow, I have found a living connection with my Celtic ancestors and the creative courage to answer Corn Mother's call with a YES.

I honor friend, colleague, teacher Lotty Ackerman Mayer who, introduced me to Usui/Holy Fire III Reiki when our family system was in great need of miracles. Lotty has become my Reiki teacher in a way that is beautifully inclusive of my path with Corn Mother.

I honor Cherokee poet, teacher, and elder Marilou Awiakta, who has become my treasured friend and guide in deepening my call to answer the invitation of Corn Mother, Madre Maíz. My connections with Awiakta have been transformative. Read her book, Selu: Seeking the Corn-Mother's Wisdom.

Pop-up altar on the streets of Tucson, AZ. Photo by Alicia

I honor the rewilding rosary community of Way of the Rose, and the deep Earth-centered offerings of Clark Strand and Perdita Finn. I honor the Firegazers circle from 2021 and the radical reclaiming in working with the dead, as tended by Perdita.

I honor the invaluable lessons from the teachings of Daniel Foor and the Ancestral Medicine community.

We all need soul friends who stand with us in the sacred cycles of this life. I honor my dear soul family: Erin who is a prayer weaver extraordinaire and seer of the great patterns of the sacred; Mary, a healer who is a great devotee of the Grain Mothers and fills people's bellies and souls; Lara, who radiates blessings, gives blessings, and is a true teacher of faith, following the sacred breadcrumbs; Sara, kin from so long ago and who gives voice to the Earth's holy dark and the life coming up through the cracks; and Sabin, beloved seer of the Great Mother. Thank you.

The soul's path is not linear. As I lean into the support of land, ancestors, spirit, guides, and the compass of the soul, I learn to trust the bends in the road.
The path is supported, even as it is wayward.