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Blogeando

I have two blogs. This one here on Blogger and one on Wordpress . This one is meant more for me to share about my experiences as a 1.75-generation Ecuadorian-American. The WP one is for me to share anything that's on my heart, mind, etc...tough thing is being able to distinguish between what I do, think, or feel that's divorced from my identity as a Latina-Americana. Honestly, I don't think anything can be. So, maybe I think about this blog site as more of a platform where I can process things directly related to my cultural identity walk. I realize this post is a little useless, but this journey isn't, so whatever. (:
Recent posts
Nah, just bury me in the ocean with my ancestors that jumped from the ships. Because they knew death was better than bondage

We Must Pray

The DACA program is very near and dear to me as I personally know some DREAMers. They are hard-working people, people I am immensely proud of. We must pray for their continued protection against deportation and their chance at a life in the only country most of them have ever seen as/called home. Some articles to read on this: Washington Post Center for American Progress  (mentioned in WP article)

#Truth

The Hamilton Mixtape: Immigrants (We Get The Job Done) Came across this song a month ago and absolutely love it. Los que quieren buscan Pero nos apodan como vagos We are the same ones Hustling on every level Ten los datos Walk a mile in our shoes Abróchense los zapatos 

La Vida

In light of this post ,  I've been thinking of ironic things in my own life... I never went camping growing up. Never went on a family vacation. My mom, a single mother. An immigrant mother. A brown mother. A mother that gave everything to her daughter so she'd have a better future, so she could become whatever she wanted. A mother that worked multiple jobs. A mother that still to this day works 361 days out of the year. That mother had too many things to worry about to take me camping. . Freshman year summer I signed up for summer biology classes in the Black Hills. I was going to be going camping, hiking, bird-watching, and going to see the stars for the first time (having grown up in Chicago, this wasn't something I'd ever really done). So, off my mom and I went to find gear. My friend says I should buy chacos. Chanclas? No, ma, ch-A-cos.   I realize more now how my experience was different than that of my classmates. ( the above portion was written about

What the F

Right now, my mind cannot grasp all that is happening. I feel frozen. I want to write out, flush out things in my mind and heart, but I need some time to read more and understand more. For now, I just know that my I mourn, I hurt, I anger with my brother and sisters. And I want to be active. I'm tired of just liking things on facebook, or even writing. I want to literally walk alongside my brother and sisters in the movement towards justice. I want to go on my knees and plead to God for justice and freedom. I want to no longer be frozen. I don't want to be indifferent. Pray for me, that I can find words and muscles to move. Pray for all those hurting, that they would find Peace. Pray for all those that are doing harm, that Justice would find them. I'll try to write more soon.

Yesí