Writer | Speaker | Activist


life itself.

I would like to meet the person for whom this pandemic has not been an utter mind fuck. Really. I would. The past almost eight months have been strange, to say the least. As tired as I am of hearing them described as “unprecedented” or “unusual,” the fact is that nothing is normal, obviously. In …

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the journal.

I’m not sure how I knew something was wrong. Woman’s intuition, I guess. We had a ritual, a routine. He would call me at work on his way to work, then I would call him when I left work on my way home. Because of our opposite schedules, we barely got to see each other, …

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It’s interesting to me all the different ways we work to understand our identities. I am addicted to understanding what it is that makes me who I am and if I had any influence over it or if I’m simply influenced by when I was born and how I was raised. Of all the methods …

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minute orders.

Phone Status Conference. 10:07 a.m. Petitioner appears by phone with counsel. Respondent does not appear by phone. What? He asked for this hearing. Why is he not here? Respondent counsel appears in person. Matter comes before the court on Respondent motion to clarify parenting time. This is such a waste of time; he just needs …

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I’ve thought about my identity my entire life, always confused at how to define it. I’m a mish mash of things and people are always surprised about a few when they learn more about who I am. These are my favorites. I like country music. I credit that to my high school boyfriend, who listened …

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self made.

When I started fifth grade, only one thing mattered to me: it was finally time that I could join the school orchestra. I had been dying to learn violin since the third grade, when a sleepover at my friend’s house introduced me to the smell of rosin. I couldn’t wait. I knew that as soon …

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i always wanted an abuela.

I always envied my friends who had deep and meaningful relationships with their grandmothers. The Nanas that taught them how to sew while they shared stories from the war. The Bombas who would sit and go through old photographs, passing on a piece of the past to future generations. The Amá Sání who would help a girl learn the intricacies of beading a bracelet. The Abuelas who would pass down a tamale recipe that had been perfected over generations. I wanted an abuela.

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