Tiara Regine DeGuzman

Writer/Speaker/Educator Developing Aware Leaders

Below, I have a selection of my creative writing works. Each piece of writing is completely original, and explores the ideas I am most interested in (race, gender, sexuality, size, beauty, America, stereotype). Enjoy! Contact me with any questions you have.

Battle Cry of the Nice Black Girl

This piece is about a demographic of black women that is never really talked about- that is, the demographic of the Nice Black Girl. The Nice Black Girl is the one who changes her voice for different audiences, who makes sure that she doesn’t offend anyone, who- if she had the confidence to wear an afro- would apologize to the people behind her class. Here are the desires of her heart and the things she is finally demanding.


Bathing While Fat, Two Hawks Quarterly

A meditation on size through a poetic essay. What does it mean to be defined by your weight? What are the things that we bring with us even in our most intimate moments and places? Is there a possibility of creating a healthy body image without the world’s input?


The Last Like, Crab Fat Literary Magazine

This was the first full, short story I ever wrote. It was first presented in a workshop run by Professor/Writer Paul Lisicky at Rutgers University- Camden in 2014. Through this story, I explored my ideas surrounding race, sexual identity, high school, difference and the social media revolution.


Verbalizing

Everyone must go through a process where they decide whether they would like to define themselves or be defined by others. This is a personal essay about getting comfortable with the way I define myself.


What We Lose When We Lose Fat

I am always fascinated by the beauty standards that the media perpetuates. It’s a very, white standard of beauty that doesn’t accept other body shapes, sizes and make-ups. That being said, here is a poem where I explore size difference.


“When I rise to write”

When I rise to write

the curse is broken

if words are spoken

before the thoughts hit the page

and stick.

Everyday clutter

washed, dried

hung in dreams

will only enter when the first words

are spoken.

When humanity begins

and this essence me,

is no longer full.

It is confused by whose

daughter that is, whose

lover that could be, whose

friend that will be.

Try to find me,

I dare you,

once I have uttered a word.