Thoughts, Reflections, and Experiences

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. (:

Nah, just bury me in the ocean with my ancestors that jumped from the ships. Because they knew death was better than bondage

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)

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 

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...

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.

“Perhaps only we of the next generation—raised among strangers, eating the fruits of our parents’ risks—can taste the true proportions of bitter to sweet.” -Minal Hajratwala

Intrigued by this book so far! A cup of water under my bed Daisy Hernández

'They Might Take My Mom Away': Deportation Anxiety Hitting CPS Kids Hard I post this here because for my brothers (12, 10, 6), this is true. More on that later. Just know that my heart breaks. God, grant us peace.

-Why doesn't your cabinet have any Hispanic people? -....as you can see, we are hiring the best and the brightest... EXCUSE ME. And the best and brightest doesn't include my people? ¿En serio? Oh, but I'm sorry, you're right Ben Carson for HUD and Betty DeVos for Secretary of Ed, definitely  the best and brightest just shut the heck up

While watching the Latino List (vol 2) on Netflix, I remembered an instance in middle school, after we had all gotten our acceptance letters to different high schools. Backing up a little, by the grace of God, I went to a good middle school, one that had advanced classes and prepared you for getting into good high schools. Thus, all the competition and why we were getting these acceptance letters. So, there I am, in the cafeteria, with a group of girls, all asking each other where we got in, what our top choice was, etc etc. I had gotten accepted into all of the high schools I applied, including my top choice, then (and maybe now too?) the number 1 public school in the state. It gets to me and I say I got into my top choice and I'm excited to go there! Later, one of the girls (who didn't get in to that school) says that I probably got in just because I'm Hispanic and they need to meet a quota. In the moment, I tried to just play it cool and not get angry or act hurt. ...

I am brown.  What does that mean?  I believe the answer lies within my narrative and the narrative of my people.  Who are my people? As I seek to understand my history, my place in society, my identity as a Latina, I realize something. I realize that in order to understand that, I must also understand what it means to be a person of color. Brown, black, yellow, whatever color makes us "different than." I am not blinded to the hurt and pain of my fellow black brothers and sisters. I see their pain. I do not understand their pain as much as I sometimes wish I did, or sometimes even believe I do. But as a Christian and as a Latina, I believe it my responsibility to seek to understand more. For me, for them, for us. The struggle of being a Hispanic-American woman in this country is not just rooted in my being Hispanic. It is rooted in America's history. In America's treatment of Native Americans, Black Americans, Asian Americans, Middle Eastern Americans....

15 Latino Documentaries You Should Steam on Netflix Maybe I can post reviews if I watch any of these!

More on this tomorrow...rather, later today. It's 2:30am and time for bed.

Yo Soy Mimi. My face is brown, and my eyes are dark. My hair is black, with some rays of light. My height is short, and my feet are small. My language is Spanish. My heart is colored. My family united. My blood is mixed. My identity, also. My strength in the divide. In the divide. Spanish or English? American or Ecuadorian? Here or there? Why not everywhere? In the divide. In the divide, I consider myself blessed. Blessed to stand with people like Esther, Paul, and Jesus. Blessed to look up to those that have stood in the divide. Oh, am I blessed. Blessed to have an education. Blessed to have a job. Blessed to have a chance to vote. Blessed to have my faith on God. Blessed to know one day, equality will be restored. Blessed to know in Christ, there is hope. Hope. Hope for days when my brothers and sisters stop dying on the streets. Hope for days when my mothers and fathers stop being seen as "less than"

First page. I'm excited already (: I feel like I've been seeing Díaz 's name around lately, so I'm glad that the hold I placed on this book is now available!

...so it's been over 7 days since I've written anything... I am excusing myself due to the fact that I cut off a small piece of my finger off last Saturday night [9/24]. Nothing major, mostly just the fat and skin, but I completely cut it off! Of course I still went to work 2 hours later. Being the new girl who just got off orientation means you should probably be a team player and suck up the fact that your finger is bandaged and bloody and just go help them babies! Of course, I later realized it wasn't the best to be working under those conditions, but I made do. I'm writing this without my left pointer finger, and let me tell you -- it's so hard not to push the keys with my injured finger.  -- I'm currently reading two books: How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents  and The Line of the Sun .  I'm not the best at finishing books, so telling you all that I'm reading these two books will hopefully motivate me to get reading! --...

I am nothing and no one else I am the possibility of everything... -Víctor Hernández Cruz