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Art by Erin Armstrong 

It’s time to have “the talk”

A few weeks ago, Procter & Gamble released a “controversial” commercial on having the race talk. The video, full of emotive scenes and realities, depicts throughout the decades the obstacles and lessons Black parents have had to express to their children, even to this day. The main lesson being taught? Teaching children of color how to build resilience to combat racism. 

As defined by Google, resilience is: the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.

In other words, you are building a protection and an ability to snap back from adversity. Sounds hard, and it is, but as we recently have seen, racism is very much alive in the U.S. And, because of the constant afflictions thrown at parents of color, it is easy to neglect our future is in our children. We mustn’t forget parents exert the most influence on who and how they grow up to be. Our children, who are inevitably viewing the unnecessary deaths, venomous hatred, and hostility through millions of portable screens, are absorbing the information that seems almost impossible to filter out. What we need to be asking ourselves is, how do we prepare children of color for the reality, rather than let them fend for themselves? Continue reading

Thought #9: Bush, no bush, your choice

f4edba6394a31118132668a6811697a6.jpgI received my first bikini wax when I was 16, when I was young, naive, and easily corrupted. My teenage-hood wasn’t one that caused my parents headaches or involved nightly escapades to drink beer acquired from bums outside the local 7/11. I was relatively calm, confused, and enthralled by things most teenagers paid no mind to (holler in classic rock, magical realism literature, and British TV shows). But I did get my first bikini wax when I was 16. 

I can’t remember the exact reasons why, but it probably had to do with the media molding me into looking a very unreachable idyllic way, one that I still fight with today (I’m winning the battle I promise!). Continue reading “Thought #9: Bush, no bush, your choice”

Dear White People Review

It is no secret our social, political, and even environmental climate (see what I did there?) has been under severe division as of late. You can blame it on many happenings in the past months, to resurface long awaited conflicts of race, gender, and the rights of many that are “different” from your average American stereotype. Regardless of the reasons, this resisting and outcry of uncomfortable polarizing views and all the -isms, has been long due. Yet, out of all what may like seem a shit hole for many, multiple doors of unity have been opened. I will expand on this on another post, but for now, Dear White People. 

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Lately, and I mean a little more than 6 months lately, I have been “woke.” 

Woke: a word from African American Vernacular English which refers to an awareness of issues concerning social justice and racial justice. The related phrase stay woke refers to a continuing awareness of these issues. 

And strangely to my being, I have always considered myself a relatively progressive person on many issues, but never blind. Surely, as a Hispanic who grew up in a majority white community I was still able to see and understand the hardships of other minorities… right? Wrong. And as you have it, in my past what always seemed to me like a relatively docile school system erupted into a thread of falsehoods.

But let’s backtrack. Continue reading “Dear White People Review”

What makes a hero

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Wow, it even looks magnificent

Ever since the naïve age of 12, my mother instilled in me the importance of taking care of my face. My mother, ahead of her time, wanted to avoid her daughter from developing dark spots and acne craters she was often plagued by. And so it became routine, every night and every morning. 

A slight bragging moment here: I never went through a ferocious acne phase, which can be attributed to good genes or my skin care routine. Although what I lacked in awkward facial anomalies, I made up with my never growing body frame (my 5th-grade graduation t-shirt still fits, only a bit snug under my armpits). 

Continue reading “What makes a hero”