Elena Poniatowska: Kenia Pulido, cultural promoter

TO

Over time, I've fondly followed the admirable Kenia Pulido, whose enormous heart compels her to embrace social causes. She's nothing like those who boast about her talent and generosity, but she is an extraordinary human being capable of giving her all to anyone who asks.

–I'm Kenia Giselle Pulido Elizalde. I'm a cultural promoter from the Cosmos Arts and Crafts Factory (FARO) in Mexico City. I'm dedicated to inter-institutional outreach for the dissemination and promotion of community culture.

"I'm here to tell you what we young cultural promoters do at the Mexico City Ministry of Culture. We work in venues like FARO Cosmos, FARO de Oriente, and FARO de Aragón; we're also on the streets. There was the Barrio Adentro strategy, in which we went out to the most vulnerable neighborhoods, or "red zones," to bring cultural and recreational activities to young people and children.

–Are they welcome?

–I worked at Barrio Adentro for a year and was never greeted with aggression or violence. Occasionally, people do approach us to tell us what bothers them about the city government, especially because they can identify us, since we wear the Ministry of Culture vest that says “Mexico City.”

–Is it a cherry vest?

–Most institutions' vests are the same color, and people can't differentiate between one department and another. They come to us to resolve their questions, and we do so with such pleasure that we've never received any criticism. They ask us where and when we're going to award scholarships, or they complain, and they also make suggestions.

–There are no jokes or practical jokes?

–We've never been attacked. People ask us where we're going to give out scholarships or we receive complaints like, "Instead of offering cultural workshops, you should fix the subway."

–Do they mistake them for engineers?

–No, but it's a complicated issue because 3 million of us use the Metro every day. The majority of these are complaining passengers, because Mexico City is overcrowded. The public transportation system can't meet the needs of such a densely populated city. As a citizen, I try to explain this to people, but I also understand that the budget allocated to the Ministry of Culture is different from the one allocated to the Ministry of Transportation for Metro repairs. People often come to us with concerns that have nothing to do with cultural issues. When we worked in Barrio Adentro, we went to drug-addicted areas, and people would tell us: "It's great that you're coming to work with children, but what are you doing to prevent these public points of sale from existing within reach of anyone?"

–Encones, what did Barrio Adentro do specifically?

–The initiative was for children to attend workshops at these locations to try to avoid violence. We're dedicated to art and culture, although we're there to address undesirable social situations as much as possible.

–How many are there and who are their immediate superiors?

–Let's say my immediate supervisor is the Secretary of Culture of Mexico City, Ana Francis Mor. The Barrio Adentro strategy no longer exists; we had it under the previous secretary, Claudia Curiel de Icaza, who now heads the federal Ministry of Culture. We promoted art in areas of violence, and it was difficult. We gave art workshops to children: painting, acting. In December, with our own resources, because there was often no money, we brought the materials; it depended on the workshop facilitator and their commitment.

–What is yours?

"I paint. I used to bring brushes and watercolors and give them to the children, and teach them how to use them. When we had the money, we could buy the cardboard, and they would paint with gusto."

–Do you receive a salary?

–Since it's a social program, we receive support. Workshop participants receive 10,600 per month.

–It’s very good support.

–Yes, and we're grateful for it, because many of us, as young cultural promoters, have the hope of making a difference. Between the TAOC (Arts and Crafts Workshops for Community Well-being) program and the Cultural Promoters for Well-being program, I think we're around 1,500 people of all ages. The Ministry of Culture is our employer. I would like young people to be given more opportunities to continue creating, to continue learning, and to work with the natural talent of the young people and children who live in the poorest neighborhoods.

“I carry out community cultural projects in which I invite emerging and established urban artists to perform in public spaces. I dedicate myself to disseminating and promoting art in communities where the privilege of exhibiting is lacking. I meet the artists and create spaces for them. I've worked with the Mexico City Theater System, the Pulque and Yankuik Museum, and I organize exhibitions at FARO Cosmos.”

–How? Are you looking for artists and a place to exhibit them?

–Both. I track them down and showcase them. If I go to an event and see a kid juggling on the street, I invite him. We don't just work with painters, but also with dancers, circus performers, and acrobats. When I get on the bus and see a kid rapping, I invite him and follow up.

–You’re a talent scout.

–My goal is to promote talent from the poorest communities, those with the fewest opportunities for young people.

–How did you learn to be a cultural promoter?

I'm from Iztapalapa. Since I was a child, I wanted to be an artist, but my parents told me I couldn't make a living from it. I studied Social Psychology at the Autonomous Metropolitan University of Xochimilco. My dream was to be an artist; I'm an expert in Hawaiian and Tahitian dance. I studied drama at Prepa 2 of the National Autonomous University of Mexico (my mom gave me permission to do so as long as I got good grades). I always had them, and here I am. In my psychology program, I specialize in the social environment. I'm passionate about understanding how the environment affects our mental health; our socioeconomic status is a key determinant of our destiny in life.

–How do you know how to address people?

I had no sense of belonging, I barely had any friends. When I talk to people, they tell me, “I used to go out with my friends from the block to play soccer,” or “My friends from elementary school used to come over to my house.” I never experienced anything like that. They only celebrated my birthday once. I didn't spend time with friends or neighbors, although I have two brothers, but they didn't go out either. When I was 12, I was diagnosed with depression. No one understood what was happening to me until I started liking Argentine rock. I don't know if it's different from Mexican rock, but rock and ska saved me.

“Ska is a genre that originated in London and is being replicated in Latin America with a Latin flavor. It speaks to social struggles and inequality. Los Fabulosos Cadillacs' song, "La historia de León Santillán," captivated me because it's about a social activist being chased by the police, and those lyrics moved me. I also really liked the rhythm because I'd been listening to it since I was 12.

“At 18, I traveled to Argentina and worked for eight months, searching for a sense of belonging, which I found in 2017 with the protests against Macri over the appalling pensions for senior citizens. I arrived in a neighborhood called Retiro, like the Tepito neighborhood here, and participated in all the protests because I started working as a data entry clerk and was well paid. I had the great advantage of being able to work while traveling. I was present at the 2019 protests, when they tried to change the Chilean constitution. That's where my connection to the people began.”