WRITERS TO KNOW: ISABEL ANGELES
ISABEL ANGELES// THE WALANG HIYA PROJECT
Isabel Angeles is a Filipina poet, activist, and performer based in North California. Isabel’s work is a representation of her experiences as a Filipinx-American immigrant, bisexual, and intersectional feminist carving her own lane and reclaiming her identity. She is also the founder of the Walang Hiya Project (@walanghiyaproject), which translates to “without shame” and serves as an empowering collective for Filipino womxn and non-binary pinxys.
SHEER: Tell us a little bit about yourself and where you're from.
ISABEL ANGELES: My name is Isabel, but I go by Isa online. I was born in Manila, Philippines, and then immigrated to the U.S. in 2001. Since then, I have gone back to the Philippines for a total of maybe 4-5 times? The majority being as a child, and the most recent trips as a teenager. I now reside in Northern California, where I attend community college with the hopes of transferring in Fall 2020. I am an intersectional feminist, activist, and performer. I have very strong opinions (see my Twitter for more references, haha), but I mean well. I’m 20 years old, so I’m very young; I’m at the beginning of what I believe will be the best years of my life; I’m excited to see where life takes me and how much growth and knowledge I can obtain.
SHEER: When did you discover your talent as a writer and poet?
IA: I discovered and crafted this talent when I was a small child. My earliest instance of writing was when I was three years old; I was constantly making little books, thinking I had written novels. I have always loved writing and reading, and I think that relationship rooted itself so deep in my life because my parents would encourage me to as a child. They were always reading to me and telling me stories, especially my dad. As I grew older, English became my favorite subject, which is why it is my major now.
I loved how you could move people and evoke certain emotions in them with just your words, or how you could plant visuals in their head and give them ideas and inspiration. Of course, I had to develop my writing style and get better at it; I am still learning how to fine-tune my writing now. That process will never end, I don’t think. There is still much for me to learn and to do.
Writing has always been a coping mechanism for me. It’s an escape. Especially as someone with anxiety and depression; writing is one of the things that have saved me. It is honestly a marker for me that I am alive, that I am here right now, penning something.
I use my writing as a platform for my experiences as a Filipina, my bisexuality, addressing racism, womxn empowerment; but I also write a lot of everything. I love writing about romance and crafting intricate stories. I love world-building and character development. I love that I can encompass the human experience on paper. Writing for me has truly always been an outlet that has given me life.
SHEER: How would you say your cultural identity influences your body of work?
IA: I would say it influences my body of work quite a bit, but not completely. My writing is not always centered around my identity/culture or my history. But it does play a large role in expressing my experiences as a Filipina immigrant who grew up in the United States. I am encouraged to write for people like me, so they may know that they are not alone.
But I am also more than my cultural identity, which is why that is not the only thing that I write about. Initially, this was a tough concept for me to grasp because it seemed as if identity-centered pieces were the only things I could write and be accepted for. But I learned that I do not have to pour my traumas out and milk my identity onto a text to be considered a true artist/writer/poet.
SHEER: What inspired you to launch the Walang Hiya project? And what does Walang Hiya stand for?
IA: I saw many collectives, but none that were really Filipinx-specific. So I wanted to create one that would bring Filipino womxn and non-binary Pinxys together. I chose to name the collective “Walang Hiya” because it is a Filipino phrase that means “shameless” or “without shame.” I have been called “walang hiya” by my parents before; and I know many others can relate. The term itself is often used to berate those who break cultural norms and stray from traditional aspects of our culture. But for years, many Filipinxs have been reclaiming the phrase as a way of empowerment. The Walang Hiya Project was created as an outlet and safe space for Filipino womxn and non-binary Pinxys to express themselves through art, writing, etc., without any shame. The collective stands for education/learning, creativity, growth, and decolonization. This project also sets out to help fellow Filipinxs make connections with each other. I wanted to create a space for healing, and give people an opportunity to share how they are living their lives without shame; or, sharing one’s Walang Hiya story.
SHEER: What do you envision for the future of the Walang Hiya project?
IA: I would love for it to grow even bigger and for it to connect more people! I want Filipino womxn and non-binary pinxys to know that if they’re searching for a safe space, the Walang Hiya Project is there for them. I just want people to know that they are loved, seen, heard, and deserve to be recognized.
I want more people to submit to the project and then connect with each other! I think seeing others connect, make friends, and build community is the best part about continuing the collective.
SHEER: Who are some poets/writers who inspire your work and style?
IA: I really enjoy Barbara Jane Reyes’s work! From the moment I read “To Be Walang Hiya,” I was hooked on to her writing. Other writers include many of my Instagram mutuals, such as @haliyapoems and @czae_art. They inspire me everyday with such beautiful, detailed writing and their imagery. A piece that has really stuck with me to this day is “American Sonnet (10)” by Wanda Coleman; it is so concise yet so descriptive, and so breathtaking.
As for my style, I love Madeline Miller’s writing and the way she can pen a piece so hauntingly. Besides her, I can’t exactly pinpoint a particular author that made me go “Yes. That’s how I want to write.” I think I was just influenced by many novels and poems I read as a child, merged everything together, and then somehow developed my own writing style. I just loved taking in everyone’s individual styles and then trying to figure out how to shape my own.
Recently, I have been searching for more Filipinx creatives. I want to read more writing by Filipinx authors and poets!
“she is a force of nature.
a woman with skin made of steel, silver-tongued, silver-spooned the goddess selene herself, dipped in the finest of stardust.
they immortalize her in camera flashes; her pictures belong in the louvre.
all eyes on such a masterpiece —
— a twenty-first century
jane austen heroine.
she is the girl i wish i were.
but she is not me.
in my indecisive soliloquies
of ‘to be or not to be’
where i tear my mind apart in the hopes i can rearrange the pages of my story my heartbeat reminds me
that i live to be myself
and no one else.
i do not glisten like liquid moonlight;
i rise bright like the sun, because i am fire and flame. i am day, she is night
and none of us are greater than the other
for we are two different definitions
of beauty.
they tell you comparison will kill you, the hypocrites in the media
preaching love and solidarity
while they murder female self-esteem for the sake of entertainment
between sips of bitter coffee and colgate-endorsed smiles.
molding their idea of perfect into magazines; “you must”, “you have to”, “you should be”—
— but remember that you are enough.
the weight of our crowns
are nothing compared to the
heaviness of the expectations
television tyrants try to place on our backs.
hold your head up high, queen.
we are stronger than they think we are. my sisters,
we are geodes —
— hard to break
and shining crystal on the inside.
we plant our seeds
and mother earth blesses us, her little mortal divinities.
she is a rose,
i am a sunflower,
and you are whatever you want to be —
— but no matter what we all bloom
and grow
into beauteous beings. I’m”
SHEER: What has been your biggest challenge as a Filipino creative in making sure your voice is heard?
IA: As a Filipino creative, my biggest challenge is overcoming the fear that no one will want to read my writing. There are times where I can be clouded with self-doubt, wondering: “Is there really anyone out there who will hear my stories? Who will connect with my experiences, etc?” It can be hard when you are putting yourself and your pieces out there and they aren’t really meant for the general, largely white audience, causing rejection. But I write for myself and for others like me, so the opinions of that crowd realistically don’t matter.
SHEER: What advice would you give women of color writers as they navigate finding their voice and sharing their work with the world?
IA: Never stop writing. Don’t be discouraged when you get rejected, or when you feel like your work is not enough; I promise you, it is. If you wrote it from the heart, if you did your best, I promise it is enough. There are so many more people out there who haven’t read your work, but will love it. Take up space, but also make space for others. Never stop writing and developing your voice; you are going to grow and learn so much. As cliche as it sounds, don’t give up. That’s the only way you are going to be able to keep sharing your work and voice with the world, and your voice definitely deserves to be heard.
Check out more of Isabel’s work below.
“Pangako: (n.) Tagalog for
‘promise’.
The colonizer’s favorite
color is narcissus white.
Selfishly stab the point of a pole into a plot of
land, foreign flag attached — — unwelcome
westerners and their impish imperialism
carelessly planting bad seeds into rich soil
resulting in the death of my roots.
Cutting us down, like tall
ancient trees — — but
my ancestors are in
everything that I can and
cannot touch.
The brown of the earth that crumbles in my
fingers, the brown of their bodies, the bronze
of their skin.
The buwan, it follows me
— — the same moon that
watched as stories were
told, as journeys
happened across the
sea, as history was made
in small corners that grew
wide and vast by those who dared to fight battles
for their freedom.
Oh, island girl with the
mango juice dripping
from your chin: Where
is your home?
Eas
y.
Home is where your
heart is and you leave
pieces of your proud,
golden heart:
in Maharlika in the city of Manila,
where you were born in the city of the
916 in your parents’ tired hands in
your lover’s calming arms
an
d
in the midnight sky; where
you offer up fragments of
your soul for all those who
came before.
This is your
promise, your
pangako: their
stories will be
unshelved.
They will live through you,
rise with the sun once more
as they did in the beginning;
running down to the ocean
blue, the keeper of destinies.
Diaspora baby
dreams under the
same stars that her
predecessors
danced beneath,
and she swears:
“I will tear out the poison
these intruders have
planted, embedded into
my identity. They will
never, ever erase me and
the generations before
whose spirits I carry
within my heart.”