Who Candace Christine Curtis Cavazos is in her own words:

I feel as if I am A POET BY THE PEOPLE, which means I was chosen by you all to be

an orator of all the things our people need to know, feel, and remember. I will carry this title of

"Poet" until you all decide I should no longer have it. All in all, my goal is just to remind us of

the voices that are hidden, silenced, forgotten, etc. and build with my community and others to

propel youth and their elders to recognize and reach their human potential. Poet/Emcee/Bgirl.

This life I live saved me, in other words, Hip Hop saved my life. I'm an old soul probably, but

old souls learn new things so I'm here. I change the world for the better everyday I wake up and

be me, what hip hop, what God, what this universe set me here for. PEACE and LOVE.

Candaces Favorite Quotes

"Work beats talent when talent refuses to work" -first heard by Stacey Ervin

"You get what you give so everything you got was given to you from what you gave"

Her
By: Jessica Thompson
She walked in the door and took my breath away
Something about her left me feeling like by knowing her I would never be the same
Her smile could light up a room, yet that smile never met her eyes
I could tell there was so much more to her and the smile was more like a lie
Her story was so familiar and different all at the same time
That she felt so safe confiding in me completely blew my mind
Shes a poet by the people and a woman by design
With everything shes shared, she left me waiting for the next rhyme
Her words were like music to my soul and when we were together we made each other whole
She could be herself and I could be me, together in each moment we had built our own personal
community
Her story has so many layers and her journey has only just begun
The next time were together I hope her smile is even brighter than the sun
Her pain was so hard to hear
Why the tears fell was so clear
The life that has chosen her, she navigates with no visible fear
Candace is creating life in her womb and giving life through her words
Even if when never see each other again, I will always be able to say I really do know her.
 Candace Christine Curtis Cavazos who is also known as The Dragon Lady, is the

oldest of three siblings, and was born March 20, 1993. She is originally from Southwest Detroit,

Michigan although she lived in Houston, Texas for almost five years. She is Syrian, Mexican,

and Native American; a part of her that she knows very little about. The name Dragon Lady is

very close to her heart and she uses it as her alter ego name. She received the name from some

of her family members as a child. It comes from her Grandmother who was the original Dragon

Lady.

Born to young parents, she grew up faster than the average adolescent. Her mother was

more like a girlfriend to her and her father was sent to prison when she was eight and did not get

out until she was 18. Candaces grandparents are a huge part of her life; according to her they

are more like her parents than her mom and dad. In her own words she describes the relationship

between her and her mom as a weird one, they basically grew up together. As a child the

connection between her and her dad was strange; they were really close, and yet they really did

not know each other. Although the time they spent together was limited, the time spent together

was meaningful. While he was in prison they communicated a lot through poetry. She credits

her father for introducing her to poetry. In the letters he would send to her from prison, he would

include a poem and then give her a topic or theme to write her own poem. The first poem she

ever wrote was about the sun; she still has that poem.

The poems sent back and forth between Candace and her dad all those years he was

locked up sparked a flame within her. From there she could not stop writing poetry, and

language became her guardian angel. With the brightest smile on her face she said, language,

poetry, words and writing are her guardian angels.

 Reading for Candace was an escape; it saved her from the drama and violence of the

neighborhoods she grew up in. She said, books showed her that the world was so big and had

so much good in it, and she knew that because she read it. She would read about places, people,

and things that were happening in the world, and imaginary worlds. She was reading so much

and it opened her eyes to so many things. For her, reading was like going on vacation,

especially when you have never left the place you are from. Reading allows you to go to

another place, like oh my God this is crazy; thats what books did for me. Candace wants her

poetry to change the world, inspire, make a difference and educate all those who read it. She

wants to leave a legacy that empowers people to tell their story. The potential fame of it all does

not appeal to her, but she is certainly hoping to make a living through her writing and be

financially secure.

As a first generation student, Candace was accepted to the University of Michigan with a

full scholarship. She is in her senior year with hopes of graduating in May from the School of

Education, with a degree in Secondary Education (with a focus on English), and Political Science

upon completion of student teaching. As we were talking about her experiences at the University

of Michigan she spoke about the first time she came to campus. She shared that she drove

herself to school and moved herself in. She stated, being a first-generation student is something

you would never be able to understand unless you are a first generation student. She remembers

feeling like everybody had their parents with them and that it seemed like everyones parents

went to college. What she recalls being most overwhelmed by was how many students parents

were University of Michigan alumni. She felt like an outsider because not only was she the first

in her family to attend college but her father never graduated from high school.
 She remembers sitting in her dorm room on the first night full of emotion, for her the

moment was surreal. She recalls thinking wow I cant believe Ive made it here! I can't believe

I'm here right now. To this day she still has a hard time relating to the majority white

community at the University of Michigan. She shared with me a poem she wrote about that

feeling; she has yet to give it a title.

Untitled

By: Candace Curtis

Really all you gave me was a language for communication

amongst the white of the nation

but ever since I've been here I feel nothing but manipulated

all this university has done is opened my eyes to how oppressed I've always been

Her time at the University of Michigan has taught her to value and appreciate where she

comes from. Being a student at a predominately white institution has inspired her to go back to

her community and encourage the youth to be proud of where they come from. She dreams of

starting a school in Southwest Detroit, where she would want to offer the type of educational

experience that her community needs and other communities like hers. She is passionate about

education in every way and tries to incorporate that passion into her art as often as possible.

Every song and poem she writes is a form of education for her people. Candace expressed her

frustration with the critics who often say her music is too explicit and raunchy. According to

her, her music speaks about real life; including those things that are messy, tragic and a lot less

beautiful.
 When I asked Candace why she chose the University of Michigan she simply stated that

they were giving her the most money. She did share that one of the best parts of her collegiate

experience to date was when she became a sister of Delta Tau Lambda, Inc (DTL). Being a part

of DTL has been life changing for Candace. Through her sorority she has been able to give back

to her community and also appreciates being connected to an organization full of brown faces!

In response to my question around advice she might give administration, she simply stated, drop

the fucking faade. She further went on to say that universities make their money off the blood,

sweat, and tears of their college students and yet it feels like not all students are treated equally.

She shared that within the School of Education there is a whole unit dedicated to teaching how

important it is for students to share their narratives. However, she feels that those who have

similar stories are not encouraged to be as open. She feels as if she has constantly been

censored. She asked the question, how can a school teach me how to show up in a classroom

in a certain way as a teacher and yet silence me as the student?

Candace shared with me that while she has been in college she worked at the strip club

and as a call girl to make money. For her this is a life she knows well; she informed me that her

mother was a stripper when she was younger. She stressed to me that she is not ashamed of what

she has done to survive. She credits that experience working in the strip club for allowing her to

fall in love with herself, to embrace her body and her sexuality. These are the voices that get

silenced in the classroom. She professed that she will continue to write and hopes to teach and

encourage those stories that are being neglected. She also stated that the very students who feel

silenced are not just ignored in the classroom, but everywhere they go. The knowledge she

wants to share will be geared towards the kids who are left to fall through the cracks.
 During our third and final conversation (interview) Candace shared with me that at the

beginning of the semester she had an abortion and a few months later she found out she is

pregnant with twins, and she's keeping them. She's currently student teaching at Escuela

Vacemos! Academy. Prior to finding out she was pregnant with twins Candace was going to

drop out of school and move to Los Angeles to pursue a music career. Although her life is

headed in a different direction she declares that the journey shes on is exactly where she needs

to be. She has two babies to give the world to and will continue to share her story in hopes that

she can save the lost and teach the future!

Included in this paper is some poetry that Candace has been working on that speaks about

the relationship with her mother and her community. She even shared with me the poem she

wrote to her boyfriend after her abortion. Lanae, I want to thank you for this assignment! Not

only did I learn a lot along the way, but Candace has encouraged me and inspired me to continue

writing myself! Additionally, I want to make sure that the students I serve understand that their

stories matter and they need to be heard. Im currently working on a program entitled The

Soundtrack. It is my hope that I create a space where students can share their narratives; the

good, the bad and the ugly and hopefully they can leave it all on the (sound)track.

Me, A Skeleton
By: Candace Curtis
I feel like a walking skeleton.
My bones have pierced my lungs so that they have deflated.
I cant breathe anymore.
My heart has detached itself from my chest and
fallen into a place where life once was.
I cant tell if it is trying to fill the void in my uterus
or simply visit it like a gravestone.
I cant forget the pieces that fell out of me.
There is too much space in my lower stomach that
use to be occupied.
How do you deal with vacancy when
you caused the eviction?
There is death on me.
No one prepared me for this feeling.
It is more then physical, I feel like a part of my soul is
removed.
I did not know that something born inside of me would
become my everything and when it died
I didnt know that I would too.
How am I still here?
How can something this painful be so recommended?
I am comforted by whispers of loved ones
telling me I made the right decision.
I think I believe that.
But every moment of each day I am sitting here in a daze
as if a part of my being has horribly decayed and
I dont know how to live with the weight of death.
I now understand the concept of a zombie.
I shouldnt be allowed to walk around like this.
Cant people see how disgusting I look?
The world is full of living things and I am empty of it.
Green things, flowers blooming, trees reaching for the sky,
It is all a constant reminder of what I no longer have.
Life.
It is hard for me to say that I am alive when
I carry the weight of an empty black space where my seed use to thrive.
I didnt give it the chance to bloom into hues of pink or blue.
I made the sky unreachable before hands knew how to reach.
I turned day black.
I cant get the sun back.
I wonder if other women are living in darkness too.
And the pain that we feel is hidden by the shadows of
the lost life we live in.
I dont think people see the darkness that surrounds us
and the permanent dagger between our hips.
It still hurts.
What have I done?
The universe is such an unknown place and
I have no knowledge of where my energy fits in it yet
a part of it was lost and now I have no idea where it has gone or
if it is suppose to be there.
It is suppose to be here.
With me.
I understand why my body is a vessel now.
But I guess a walking skeleton cannot hold on to a bloody thing.
I let my prodigy slip through the cracks between my bones and
now my body is punishing me for that carelessness.
I can feel my insides trying to repair themselves but
its like the God in me has lost its willingness to forgive.
Like a stone,
I will sit still forever while the world chips at my shape.
I cannot change what I have become.
And I will feel this pain, forever.

Badly
By: Candace Curtis
I want to be okay so badly,
That I smile in an attempt to
suppress the tears
leaking from my
broken
sanity.
I want to be ok so badly,
That I say, I am happy. Really, I am.
Because I know that you carry the
weight of my world on your shoulders.
If you could capture the sun and
replace the hole in my womb with it
just to enlighten me
you wouldve done it that very night.

Sitting there.
At a random bar next to me.

We try to seem like we can be

the same we use to be.
I wonder what people think.
I know exactly what they see.
A young man and woman
acting older then they seem.
Sitting there.
With a look on your face that was
a mirror to my pain.
I had seen my broken heart in your eyes,
it bloated out your veins.
I had already fallen apart.

You said,
I want to be the light to your darkness,
but I dont know where to start.

So it started there.
The pain is incurable but
your presence makes it bearable.
I am comforted by the feelings that
I do not have to sit in the shadows of my

sadness alone.

I am not afraid of the dark.

I am terrified of losing my
memory of the light.
Lately, I have drifted into an
abyss of blinded sight.
Your kiss is a reminder that
my body is alive.
I pray you dont give up on me
Im trying to keep the fight in me,
Ive altered both our destinies,
Consequences are at rest in me
The weight is growing heavily,
And the torture makes me believe that
I am now this ugly being,
And upon a twisted turn of things,

there is you.

You who thinks I am beautiful still.

Holding me like you never will
Let go of my love it fills,
Your heart enough to keep you
here.
Here.
Have a drink.
Let me caress your cheek.
Well get through this you and me.
Ill love you like we did it's life
Until we are at the end of time.
Your hands placed tight around mine,
And then gently on my stomach I.
I want to be okay, so badly.

My Mama is A Woman
By: Candace Curtis
I watched my mama be a woman.
I sat on the toilet and STUDIED her technique in the bathroom mirror.
SHE, was a model, no SHE, was a novel.
As complex as a mystery plot, as lavish as the ribbon to mark the page I was on.
She wore RED and deep bronze lipstick, gold, and thick black eye liner.
My mother was an ethnic goddess.
She reminded me of the Egyptian queens in my history books.
Crooks couldnt steal her heart cause it was hidden in me.
I watched my mother be a woman.
I sat in the corner of her room. It smelled like Chanel.
She put lotion on every day. SHE was flawless.
She called imperfections beauty marks.
Strut like a lioness and roared like a lion.
She had a mane as full as her appetite for the hustle,
She knew how to make a man beg for a rebuttal.
On his knees.
My mama knew how to work.
We didnt have no man around for manly stuff.
It was all the same to us.
My mama was as strong as any man and she got dirty like one too.
She told me scars were somethin to brag about and crying wasnt allowed.
Wasnt nothin to cry about and shed give me somethin to really be upset over.
If thats what I wanted to do with my time.
And she did.
So I guess tears were for broken hearts not broken bones.
And thats why mama threw that picture of daddy at the wall when i cried over him.
But couldnt whoop me.
Cuz she cried over him too.

I watched my mama be a woman.

I use to put her heels on and walk around the house when she wasnt around.
These things were like a weapon of choice.
I think she liked when people heard her coming.
My mama wasnt afraid of nothin.
I seen her run a bitch down that tried to disrespect her at our own damn house.
Stilettos were not just for looks.

I never wanted to be like my mama.

People talked bad about her all the time.
I never wanted to be talked bad about.
I dressed like a boy. Did everything I could to look like one.
HATED being a girl.
But everyday, I became more and more like my mama anyway.
I wanted lipstick and eyeliner.
Blush and lots of bronze.
Stilettos and perfume.

She said no. Not until you can do it right.

Lemme see you walk across the living room.
(I walk across the living room)
Nope. Not today. Take em off.

She let me pretend to be like her at home.

I wasnt allowed to walk out that door lookin like no white trailer trash.
I wasnt allowed to be no chula hood rat like the ones at school.
I wasnt allowed to be paintin my face like a clown or
Walkin in heels like I had a stick up my ass.
My mama said thats not what class looks like.

Her advice:
If you cant keep em on all day take em off.
If youre gonna open your mouth you better know what youre talking about.
Dont get loud to get smart.
You wanna wear that little ass skirt?
Well you better know how to handle that attention.
Dont be dumb play dumb.
Beauty is pain.
Dont ever let somebody tell you to shut up.
Why are you actin like you dont know what you are doing?
Look at me when Im talking to you.
Look at them when their talking to you.
You dont gotta like me but you will respect me.
Doesnt matter how wrong your elder is, you will listen.
Make up is to enhance not cover up.
You are not ugly but you sure do look like it with that attitude.
Throw a fit on the court one more time and ill make sure you ride the bench.
I dont care what your coach says.
Dont be a sore loser.
Wipe that snobby ass look off your face.
This is not clean. Do it again.
Go outside. Turn the T.V off. Go run.
Soda makes you break out.
Stop asking me for shit you know I dont have the money for.
You dont need it you want it so get a job.
Models arent real.
You can get fake boobs, a nose job, whatever.
But you gotta be ok with being fake.
If you talk shit you better back it up.
If shes bullying you then tell her to meet you in the front yard.
If you dont beat her ass ima beat yours.
Im sick of hearing about it.
Head up shoulders back.
Sit with your legs closed when men are around, doesnt matter if youre related.
Get off the phone.
Tell that boy to get a job.
Sex is not a sin.
Always listen to your gut.
You cant believe everything you read Candace.
Dont be a dumb smart person.
Im not gonna lie to you. It sounds bad.
Practice harder. Im not gonna let you embarrass yourself.
Think about your reputation.
Those girls are jealous, thats why they hate you.
What weve been through is not an excuse to fail.
Dont ever let anyone pity you.
You are independent and it can only be done right if you do it yourself.
Your hair needs to be done.
Your nails look like trash.
Stop slouching. Quit smacking your lips.
Roll your eyes at me again and see what happens.
Quit huffin and puffin! You got something to say then say it.
Think about the consequences.
Take a risk but dont hate yourself after.
Its ok to feel sad.
Stop with the excuses. Just fix it.
You have a gift because your heart is too big for your chest.
You dont have to pray with us but you better talk to God.
Never fight a woman over a boy.
NEVER be afraid of people.
Fix your make up.
Do as I say not as I do.

YOU Candace Christine are not gonna be like those fast girls.
Those girls got no mama.
Those girls got no damn sense.
Those girls need a role model.

Head up shoulders back little lady, and dont walk out that house lookin like a fool.

But everybody thought I was fast.

The only one that believed me when I said I was innocent was my mama.
She knew looks could make a man act stupid and cause a woman to hate you.
My mama said you could get anything in this world with that face.
But dont make that mistake.
And she always went back to the hustle.

Marilyn Monroe was her idol.

I hated that. Everyone thought Marilyn was a whore!
My mama never got mad at me for criticizing her or Marilyn.
I always criticized my mama.
I never made any of the life decisions she did.
I always thought it was because I was better. I wanted to be better. Better then her.
(Laughs)
I mustve thought I was a real genius for comin up with that notion.
To be better than my own mama.

Damn.
She sure did know how to be a woman.
And at 17 years old,
My mama decided to raise one.

White Picket Fences

By: Candace Curtis
Im from a place where fences dont stop anything.
A city where sirens take the place of
Mom when shes at work late
Yelling for you to go to sleep and
Neighbors are an alarm for you to
Wake up in the morning.
My city is a place where people with
heavy pockets,
Are rare but,
The media is common.
So you know all about us?
Like a pigeon,
My city is unattractive
To the more colorful birds.
A place you think we cant leave.
Where culture grows wings.
My city is a place where fences arent for looks.
The media is common.
I watch them teach you how to build fences.
So, you know all about us.
Well, Im from a place where fences dont stop anything.