Empowering untold stories, insightful articles, and thought-provoking discussions celebrating Latina heritage, resilience, and influence in today's world.
130 posts
This country needs to have a serious conversation about the hypocrisy of “Freedom of Speech” Does the right to freedom of speech and assembly truly exist? Do we in fact apply these freedoms and rights equally? What would happen if people of color (POC) were armed with assault rifles and
The blow came twice as hard, launching Elena back through the door frame of her home, into the seasonal hell she dealt with at the hand of her abusive husband. It came like clockwork – at the start of each summer when California agricultural workers were laid off, Elena’s husband
It is my 32nd birthday this year, and I am having these deep reflections around how much I need to learn and how much I still do not know. Yet somewhere along the way, I’ve managed to pick up some pretty awesome tools which I wish I could have
Dear professional white folx, It’s time we had a discussion because ya’ll think you are off the hook, [for doing that oppressive white folx thing]…Porque puede hablar Español, or you married a Latinx, studied abroad, know a little bit about Frida, whatever makes you a “honorary” Latinx.
I do not live near my mami. We live a few thousand miles apart, physically, and also billions miles apart politically. I love mi mami though, and I am always thinking about her. Today I have been thinking about her hands… Las manos de mi mami brings so many memories.
It was at the age of eight when I realized who was to be my greatest adversary in life: mi mamá. Má. Amá. Madre. Jefa. Those were your names – aloud, anyway. Never Mamá. Ever. Surrendering to the term when in your presence was a synonym of defeat, of weakness: a
I think the most important thing that I have learned from graduate school, was that I learned to name those things that had been used against me my entire life. The ability to name ones oppression is powerful for our individual liberations because for years I thought I was being
I come from places where enduring inequalities is the norm. I’ve seen my mother come home exhausted after a long day of work struggling to keep her body from collapsing. I’ve seen her massage her arthritis affected hands describing the way her supervisors screamed “faster! faster!” to her
Caucacity: The audacity of white people’s belief that they’re right even against contrary evidence. If I had a dollar for every time a White Liberal tried to convince me that Trump’s win was not rooted in this kind of “White Supremacy’s last stand” racist mentality, I’
I was never THAT kid who was encouraged to go to college. I was never that kid that was smarter than everyone else, that kid that shined, that kid that professors believed in. I just wasn’t. By the time I was almost 9 years old, I knew I was
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