Today we’d like to introduce you to Gracie Azua.
Hi Gracie, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today?
I grew up in the Imperial Valley, the next county over from San Diego, and I began writing there when I was 10 years old, when I had a dream I didn’t want to forget. I never stopped writing after that, talking about mundane things like family and relationships. I was a shy girl, the daughter of a single mom who came from Mexicali to the US for better opportunities. Writing was an escape from poverty, mental health issues, and systemic oppression, even if I didn’t know it at the time.
But my dream was always to move to San Diego, for the cool weather and the excitement. So when I got my A.A. from Imperial Valley College and needed to transfer, I decided to transfer to Cal State San Marcos, where I got my Bachelor’s in Literature and Writing.
My open mic/publishing journey didn’t start until after my mom passed way from cancer in 2022. She left this earth months after I got married and graduated CSUSM, and I was completely heartbroken. I had always been a poet, but something in me just poured my heart on the page, exhuming my grief from my body to the page. I had heard of an open mic in San Marcos called Tell It Slant happening after work. After talking with my therapist, I went to one open mic, shared two poems, and went home. I worked up the courage to talk to other writers and connect with them. I then heard about open mics in San Diego, and would drive down an hour and a half after work in Carlsbad to read for five minutes and listen to others. I found community with like-minded people, and saw the struggle for my liberation expand farther than just myself and people.
Eventually, I wanted to pursue my dream of publishing a book. In October 2023, I self-published my first collection of poetry, You Will Know Our Name, to document my grief of losing my mom and abuelas as I go through life and struggle to survive. The book tested me, I was up nights writing and editing, just wanting to get my book right.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
It hasn’t! As a child, my family struggled alot. I remember my mom’s devotion to me, even to a fault, to survive in the Imperial Valley. My struggles pushed me to write and never let go. I always say the page listened when no one would, and I understand now the generational trauma that was passed to me from my parents from their parents and so on. With my writing, I think I am healing a part of that pain and suffering. My writing got me through the loss of my father in 2019, my mom in 2022, and the circumstances which got me, ultimately, to San Diego.
And yet, being a writer can be really hard in San Diego. Sometimes even now, I still struggle to find real community or welcoming spaces because of my queerness, my brownness, my fatness. I don’t let that stop me from finding places, but obviously it can be hard. I want authenticity and the grit and people to just be honest and kind. In order to find that, I must be that myself, which I try as much as I can be.
I also know it’s expensive to live here, which is something I always knew. As someone from the Imperial Valley, I always heard of people from the valley moving to San Diego, and moving back home after a year, unable to make rent or buy groceries. Being a writer, who loves to perform and meet people, gas is expensive! Books can be too, so although I have a full time job, I live with roommates. I’ve prioritized my writing over some things, also because I have student loans, and I am happy. Although writing can be hard some days, it is worth it. Expressing myself on the page and just hearing someone else feel the same brings me comfort. Although the road hasn’t been smooth, I pursue joy in all of it. After everything my ancestor and I have been through, it’s the least I can do.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
I am a writer and poet, who focuses on my experience as a Queer Fat Chicana. I write about my family, my culture, my body, my mental health, my grief, my love, and my Imperial Valley. I just want to write about all of myself–if you read my work, you know who I am.
I’m proud of just me sharing my poetry and my book. I definitely never thought at 15 years old I would be doing all of this. I used to never speak about my mental health and what was going on in my head out of fear of being a bad Mexican daughter. Getting up on the stage with community always brings my inner child a smile. I once read a poem about my Nana, who at that point had dementia, and a woman came up to me and told me about her story with her abuela. That connection is something I would have begged for as a child. I wanted to be seen, and with my poetry, I can be. Even publishing my book about grief, I was so worried about what everyone else would think. I talk about a lot of heavy topics in my writing, but especially my book. I was owning my writing in a way that was in physical print. Which is why I put my face on the cover of the book, to own my experience and grief while honoring the Imperial Valley, which is where I took the cover photo.
As of now, I am a forever community resource and member! I am in a collective called Colibrí Writers, which is a group of writers who share resources on publishing, performing, and higher education. You can definitely catch me at open mics reading a poem or two and cheering others on. I have spoken on panels about poetry and inclusivity, and lead writing workshops. I believe in the power of education and information sharing. I don’t believe in gatekeeping, and I always want to share a helping hand when possible. I wouldn’t be here had community not shared there knowledge and resources.
Can you talk to us about how you think about risk?
I think whether you want to or not, you take a risk. Go to college or directly to work–a risk. Move away from home or stay in your home town–a risk. I went to college and moved away from home, both risks I was biting my nails doing, but ended up making me a more well-rounded person. Sure I have loans, and I’m far from my family, but I’m also shaping a life that I want to live. I have experience I never thought I’d have. I don’t think I would have signed up for an open mic, which for me was a risk. I have an anxiety disorder, and a condition that breaks out my body into hives if I get to hot for any reason, so I was always worried about making a fool out of myself by looking like I had chicken pox on stage. Yet, I still did it (with support from my therapist), but I did it. I was a child who loved comfort, but now I love to experience new things. It’s still hard, and don’t think I won’t analyze every move and possibility before I take the risk. But when I know the risk will be worth it, I do it terrified. I’m probably in tears, but I’ll be there, doing my best to make the risk work.
Pricing:
- You Will Know Our Name, $20
- Our Teeth Before Bed Zine, $8-10
- The Last Tamal Zine, $10-12
Contact Info:
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ebgracie/
