Story

The story of how (Zine)Lugar comes from wanting to challenge the traditional boundaries of knowledge and expression. One evening, we decided we needed a change of scenery and headed to the newly built computer science building in the university. Our shared offices, tucked away in a slowly decaying building, had us wanting to step out of that space and so we walked across campus to the newly built computer science building. It was a place that felt foreign, not because anyone had said we did not belong, but because everything about it—from its shiny walls to its state-of-the-art classrooms—seemed to whisper that we were not supposed to be there. Still, we found an empty conference room with a sliding door that made the space feel more private, and as we sat around the table, the conversation naturally turned toward a topic that had been on our minds: what counts as knowledge, and who gets to decide?

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For me personally, the idea of non-belonging has always resonated. Am I too much of this, not enough of that? Does my voice even matter? Does my background allow me to be heard in spaces that often value some experiences over others? As these questions surfaced, one of my friends at the table reminded me that knowledge does not only come in traditional forms—it comes from stories, experiences, art, and creative expression.

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That statement opened my eyes. It made me realize that knowledge can be expressed in different tongues—Spanglish, Portuñol, and any in-between languages of people navigating multiple worlds. And that knowledge carries weight.

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As we continued talking, we acknowledged our identities—our indigenous roots, our queerness, our lack of belonging to any one place. We understood that there were others like us, people whose stories also deserved to be shared, whose knowledge was just as valid. There was laughter, tears, hugs—a raw sense of human connection. In that moment, the seed of the zine was planted. We knew we had to do something to honor those voices, to create a space for all forms of knowledge and expression.

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It did not take long for more people to join us. Friends who had heard about what we were trying to create wanted to be part of this initiative, and slowly the idea grew. Our conversations in that borrowed space turned into weekly meetings, then into something more organized. We formed our editorial team, and ever since, we have been working together, each of us contributing our own experiences, talents, and ideas to bring this zine to life.

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Like the lyrics of a song by the group, A Dos Velas, “Con la gente que me gusta”:

 

           Spanish                                                     English

“Con la gente que me gusta,        “With the people I like,

alrededor de una mesa,                        around a table,

cualquier vino es un poema,                    any wine becomes a poem,

cualquier charla la locura.                          any conversation, madness.

Con la gente que me gusta                 With the people I like,

me encanta hablar de proyectos;        I love talking about projects;

de esos que se lleva el viento             the kind that the wind carries away,

y que se olvidan después.”                      and are later forgotten.”

 

This song reminds me of how our project started as just an idea—one that could have been easily forgotten. But we did not let it go. We reached out to our department chair for support, hoping to gain departmental and institutional backing, but we were met with hesitation. When we read in the email, “Unfortunately, I cannot get behind this project as it stands,” it felt like a blow to our momentum. However, that did not stop us. If anything, it reinforced our determination. We believed in the importance of this zine and its mission, so we kept moving forward—applying for grants, reaching out to the LGBTQIA+ center for a home, and gaining sponsors who believed in our vision.

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We want to especially thank:

 

   •   The LGBTQIA+ Center

   •   The Howard Thurman Center

   •   The Center for Latin American Studies

   •   BU Art Initiative

   •   Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies Department

 

Each of these groups helped us realize that there are people who believe in our mission, just as we do. We also recognize our privilege as students at this institution, and we want to use that privilege to amplify voices that have been ignored for too long. We believe in this zine because we are the zine—we are the stories, the art, the knowledge that it holds. 

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So, to anyone reading this who feels like they do not belong, like they are searching for their own sin lugar, we invite you to join us. Help us create a space where pertenencia—a sense of belonging—flourishes, and where the search for a home ends in something beautiful that we will build together.