Uvalde

May 25, 2022

I’ve been thinking like many of us about what to think. Didn’t really feel the need to add to the sea of posts stating what does not even need the assistance of words. Yet still as I become incredibly annoyed by the simplistic demand for gun reform I feel compelled to add that this is not about gun control or faith or monsters or even mental health. I believe what we are seeing is but a mirror of the violence our society imposes on humanity. I’ve stated before that the many practices of state sanctioned violence do nothing but chip away at our ability to exist in our humanity, at our ability to care, to empathize for society as a whole and everyone who composes the collective. The monsters our society creates are our responsibility. They are the visible symptoms of a disease that we all continue to spread through our chosen ignorance & quick & convenient disregard for issues that we know continue to infect our ability to be brothers & sisters. We know well what a thriving and healthy society needs. Yet we choose to believe our consistent littering of poison won’t eventually take a toll or affect all of us. You post that you are broken because it’s easy to empathize for a grid of school aged children. But can we challenge ourselves to think about or care about or take responsibility for caring about the root cause of how a society breeds people that have no regard for human life? Can we feel for everyone too including the troubled young man who did this? This incident is not the first I hope where you realize we live in an increasingly sick world. A world full of issues like poverty, systemic institutional racism, homophobia, greed, war, mental illness, deteriorating public health, state sanctioned violence, criminalization, abuse of power, I could go on but in summation we collectively are participants in an international disregard for humanity, a disregard for the land we occupy, the air we breathe, the resources we share and don’t, and the priorities we set. The collective consciousness is something we all should begin with. Learn to give a damn and problematize the issue when it’s not so obvious we should. It’s all so tiring. #uvalde #humanrights #resistance

May 28, 2022

We have no right to ask our communities to stay unsafe when this country is designed to harm us. Just like we shouldn’t control or police a woman who wants to get an abortion / bec we aren’t the ones to raise said children we also have no business forcing our communities to be unarmed when we remain unsafe in this world / expected to accept state sanctioned systemic violence and growing oppression. Our children are in harms way, and while guns are not for everyone we have no right to try to force folx to give up their right to safety/ to self protect when we remain not only unprotected but under attack. Not all of us fit in a left or right box. Some of us are dreaming of a world that is pro human rights not pro labels. The struggle for human rights is a fight for the long haul, we have to come to terms with reality that many of us are not going to see that type of change / making it even more critically important that we fight back against any attempt to take our rights away. What we need to do is take the right and power away from government and police and stop funding systems that keep criminalizing and murdering us. Banning guns is not going to keep us safe, because people who want to murder will only find a way to get a weapon illegally / like folx do with every other thing that’s banned. Our anger must be redirected to create - not ban. We keep playing into the spectacle, playing a game with the masters rules trying to take our turns at who gets to police next. We need to abolish the ways in which we police ourselves and each other and all the borders barriers we create to distance us from our shared humanity. & by policing I don’t JUST mean the police force I mean the ways in which we keep judging and trying to impose our way of being onto others. The real issues at play in Uvalde are the same issues and systems that killed George Floyd, James Garcia, Dion Johnson, the list goes on. We have to do the work of dismantling/ decolonizing the oppressor in us, the righteousness we carry that tries to simplify every issue and start problematizing the status quo and reimagine new ways to be in community with each other. We trust all sorts of authorities instead of trusting each other. We failed that boy in Uvalde, who knows how but this is a given. We are a society plagued by toxic masculinity, racism and violence and we wonder how or why we are where we are. We are always too important to be inconvenienced with “others.” Those parents outside of the school were ready to risk their lives because living without our children is not living. But the police doesn’t see our kids as life worth protecting because they have no interest to gain from our existence. They exist to protect white supremacy, capital, power and their own. Wanting to revert back to the great Amerikkka. These forces like most systems of authority are trained to no longer be people but extensions of policies and protocols that have no consciousness.

Now I know this position is unpopular but at this point I don’t care who agrees. Not posting this to gain friends. We all need to live authentically and unapologetically so we can continue to create space for others to do the same. I am disgusted with the same nightmare over and over. Systemic trauma is exhausting. Trump and Obama era gave us children in cages, people are still being murdered by police, our families are still unable to cross borders while America gentrifies every other country. We are trying to now control women’s bodies. Attacking trans children. We have marginalized groups of people that live unsafe. So many International human rights violations. If I’m gonna be another bystander at minimum I want to express my absolute disgust and rage. & no I’m not here to depressed and hopeless. You best believe that I’m teaching my children that the only authority they ought to respect is their internal one. Who knows maybe one day our future generations will do more than what we have done. #stillnotsaved #abolition #uvalde

Whiskey Girl

Golden flames in a glass. neat no ice needed, you don't cool off a drink meant to warm your heart.  I sometimes lie to myself - say I wont drink again. Yet, there's something familiar and welcoming about coming home to one self.  That person, vulnerable and open.  Barriers released.  I suppose that's why I love hot yoga, hot coffee, the hot sun. Anything really that makes me forget I have a choice. sipping it slowly, savoring every swallow until it drowns me. 

Dreamliving

Tulum

-------------------------

It's been about two weeks since I got back from Tulum and I can't believe who I am right now.  

I feel so proud of myself mostly as I garnered up the courage to just pickup and leave on a solo vacation to focus on yoga and simply just breathing in and feeling absolute joy for no other reason than because I wanted to.

Mom guilt aside I did something just for me.  A dream really.  I found myself walking barefoot, feeling the sand between my toes, wearing little clothing, not brushing my hair for days, practicing yoga twice a day, and just drinking up the fresh air, savoring the fruit and the sun and the silence. It was truly magical.  I drank plenty, ate well, and enjoyed the hell out of my own company.  The world is so increasingly fucken loud, it's like there is not one moment left to hear ourselves out, our own thoughts, to just exist and be and think and reflect.  I was so done with so much shit happening to me, I suppose I just wanted to feel like I was driving things for a moment.  So there I was, cocooned into a green hammock, staring out the window of my room which so perfectly sat in front of the beach, such beautiful turquoise waters that inevitably heal.  I felt so blessed and so loved by the universe.  Like wow, how in the world am I living these moments.  I tried to look and pay attention, be mindful and ever so present and I swear sometimes the shadows just greeted me, so much we don't actually pay attention to on the daily.  Anyway, I'm back home and I feel so excited to practice this here; to see to really see my life as it unfolds and perhaps find ways, in my daily life, to react less, and just fucken enjoy the ordinary moments just a little bit more.  Today I watched my boys play in the sprinklers.  No ocean but the sea of grass and our crazy dog Remy juxtaposed behind giant smiles - the kind you want to remember for eternity.  Anyway life is yummy right now.  Sunshine, yoga, business, family, and lots of watering of not just my plants but this life.  

I am a piece of shit

November 4, 2021

I believe at some point we all have to figure out a way to see ourselves the ways in which others see us, and what's scarier is to accept and embrace these images as truths about ourselves. I don't know why inherently we are so afraid to come to terms with the reality that maybe some of us are not good people. Maybe some of us are the monsters, the pieces of shit that society despises.  I am a piece of shit.  I am a person that is deeply flawed, afraid, confused, and eternally unsettled by the idea of staying the same.  I want to grow daily into a person that dares to accept herself for who she is; irregardless of how ugly that makes me.  I am not going to change.  I perhaps can learn to make new decisions that keep who I am in the dark corners where nobody minds, like the dust and dirt under the carpet or a spider in the corner of a room, I may be able to successfully hide these nasty dirty edges that make me an undesirable woman, an angry woman, a violent and mentally ill woman, but at the core, who I am is there and it's so engrained within every cell of my body that to destroy its presence would in essence be to suffocate the life out of my very being; my soul.  We all make such great mistakes to assume that souls are to be pure and meaningful or pretty; some of us have souls that were birthed in struggle and in rage and in a refusal to let things slide.  I am in a way proud of who I am becoming; a person that dares to stand in the middle of any space and yell " I am that piece of shit" and I am okay with that; there's absolutely nothing wrong with me as I am, I deserve to exist as much as a beautiful flower in a garden or an intense skycape that simply radiates in all its beauty.  Anger and darkness have their place and right to exist too.  Action requires fire and fire is anything but calm and peaceful and proper and right; fire grows and permeates and rises and burns and does not ever apologize for its flames because that's what gives it power. All this to say; that as I get older, and my face begins to show lines and wrinkles, as I continue to fight and destroy relationships and inconvenience order in the spaces I enter; I am beginning to finally come to see that I am made of fire and have no intention of extinguishing my flames; in spite of those who try to suppress my spirit; I will continue on this journey that only God can take away from me; and if anyone has a problem with that; they can prepare to get burned. 

on writing & happiness

7/1/2020

I want to believe ever so badly that I am a writer.  Still, I seldom actually sit my ass to as Hemingway so eloquently said "bleed on paper." I suppose it has to do with happiness.   Over the course of the last five years, and of course maybe longer, I have been on this quest to find or create my own happiness.  Here's the thing about writing, it doesn't go with happiness.  Most real, in depth, raw, cuts through your soul type of writing requires such an intense level of grief.  You can't do it any other way.  You are "to bleed" because it cuts and it hurts, and it is the closest thing to honesty and truth I have ever discovered.  You can't stare at your own bullshit on paper.  I mean I suppose you could, but good writers, they are considered good because their words actually resonate.  They resonate because they are real.  So anyway, I'm sort of getting tired of trying to be happy.  Maybe some of us are not meant for that.  maybe some of us have a role to play, a role of shining light on things that are nothing to be happy about.  Lord knows I have done my part in trying to heal the dark aspects of my identities. Yet, every so often, I just fail miserably. I am starting to also recognize that I am most in my own element as a person of darkness.  I find myself continuously drawn to failed or broken causes, trauma, I empathize so profoundly with the pain and mourning of the world.  sure, I am seduced and often by the immeasurable beauty of a sunrise, intoxicated by the play of light and the awakening of the world on an early morning.  Yet still, I am a child.  I am certain I am toxic. I am mentally ill and for that I don't know what to make of it. Fuck I don't even know what mentally ill even means.  all I know is that I don't always feel well. So often I feel so deeply and I allow my emotions to get the best of me.  

Anyway just typing this is so uncomfortable. I don't know why I feel the need to even name it.  so often I feel like people look at me with these eyes of judgment.  Like all is well with me on the surface and in many ways it is.  but some of it, the part of I'm happy, that part itself its a lie.  I don't know if happiness is even a thing.  I think realistically it's found in moments.  Of course I have those, many in fact.  But it's such a fleeting thing some days.  I can't ever seem to catch it.   Anyway this is just another moment, another evening full of emotion and meaningless intensity. I'm alive. 

midnight rant

days like today
loud noises live in silence amidst the exterior busyness of the day
people's desires and expectations
they suffocate me
like a snake they wrap themselves around my neck
as i gasp to breathe i'm reminded yet again how I'm not enough
how we are not eternal
i can't help it
i have come to realize that i am but this person
inappropriate and untimely
i fall short
and yet again

I'm tired god, please
please save me from this skin and its expiration
help me navigate this darkness que me atormenta
rescue me from the past I'm now creating
i may not know how tomorrow ends but i know these are my most beautiful memories
the routine of the ordinary happenings
these are the things you long and miss one day
i wish so badly to return to those instances of simplicity
where nothing mattered more than togetherness, and family
                 
                          -----------------

i lived in a house full of arguments and disputes
we had nothing better to do with our time i guess
we enjoyed the challenging nature of the next debate
i remember fondly sitting around the house, the couch or the dinner table
debating whatever came to mind
       race, politics, technology, music, gender
we had no place to go
no one to visit
we didn't follow sports or anything popular
at most jerry springer and montel williams played in the background
cristina while my mom was cooking rice
        claudia and us
we just sat around yelling, disputing, making sense of the world
what from afar may have seemed like a loud fight
for us it was much more intimate and innocent..the way young boys wrestle or compete
we found pleasure in our arguments
in discovering language and its power to convince, to frame, to stylize and empower a position
i enjoyed it, perhaps too much at that
but it was what we did

mexican people are many at times perceived as submissive and timid
the image of the probervial brown man under a cactus comes to mind
but they're wrong about us
our family was loud
is loud
our voices stood strong and as a kid you learned quickly to be opinionated or enable others opinions to shape and define you

i miss those days

the problem i've faced throughout my life, is that these lessons, these linguistic exercises would later on get me into trouble
most do not like confrontation or dispute
people find it uncomfortable
and so i've made a few people uncomfortable throughout my life
and while i have my regrets i realize now that its something in me
something that perhaps cannot be changed
i say what i think
the truth offends e incomoda

but what's my alternative?
to rest comfortably in politeness?
i don't make love to arbitrary words, its just not in me
i rather die
i don't want to live symbolically
i aint no fucken placeholder
i exist in this every edge of me which is rough and uneven and imperfect
and I'm ok with that

I'm sorry god for seeming insensitive
I'm sorry momma
i do care
i do long to be a good person
i owe that to you momma

i know biting my tongue would make you proud of me
and god knows i'll do anything for my momma

but

you also taught me to be proud

and i can't help it if i am, and very
   esp of you
of being your daughter
of being your enojona
peleonera
fea
  me siento podrida y agridulce
               pero soy fuerte mamita
fuerte like you

life ain't easy
it's shitty right now

i can always tell you anything and everything and today i can't
i can't run to you like i always do
i can't cry to you
i don't want you to know how much it hurts me to know you are going through this
i wish i could take your place

but i have kids too and I'm happy they are safe and that I'm here to care for them the way you cared for me and still today, you are teaching me this

 you are teaching me how to live and how to love without conditions, how to care

i learned as a young child how to fight and to swim in whatever current we encountered, i learned that from watching you and my dad struggle and fight con las unas for our future

and here we are again, life has never been perfect, but you always made it worthwhile
it's still worthwhile and while i may have my moments
i want nothing more than to live and to see you live many more years yelling at me and telling me how i've got it all wrong
i want your voice in my head screaming loudly and telling me to think with my head and not my heart


make no mistake, I'm swimming


i hope and pray planning life for tomorrow could be easier
but my heart is in a coma

it sits still

i can't breathe thinking about tomorrow

what came before today was lovely and I'm enjoying the now just as much,
you exist in these spaces of time and that's good enough for me
tomorrow i don't know
what may come will come
and i just can't envision more than that

I'm broken

fuck you cancer

Anger

today ray and the kids and i took a road trip to yuma, i was so afraid to leave for what seemed like an eternity away from Phoenix.  the thought of something happening to my mom and me not being near enough to come to her in time is something that had me worrying extensively.  the thing is though, that life is so short that it makes sense to live it.  i saw a sign on the drive there, it said "feed your body well, it is where you live" it was an advertisement for organic food.  i didn't eat well today though, i ate crappy, and that's not like me as of the last year or so.  I just feel so very angry about my mom.  it just doesn't make sense to me why she had to get sick.  out of all the people out there that this could have happened to, why her? at times the pain i feel gets translated into an urge to fix things, to do right, to eat well and to take care of myself and my children, and then there's days like today where I just want to quit...i just want to say "fuck you cancer, I'm not afraid of you, i'll do what I want!!" and yet that's exactly what I don't want to do...I want to have this experience be motivation for myself and family to do something positive, to live a healthy lifestyle not just for a year, but permanently.  I realize there will be days where I fail, but I'm committed to keep trying

t r y i n g

to just put in the work and try to live a healthy and productive life, i owe that to my momma.  we had breakfast at cracker barrel.  She loves that place.  I was thinking how nice it would be to be there with her.  ray emerson loves it so much too.  he loves looking at things and playing with the gadgets they have in the store while he contemplates a way to get us to buy him something.  he was so grumpy today, parenting is definitely not easy.  he screams and rages at times in ways that seriously makes me want to lose my cool, but i know its just not what i want for him.  i don't want to compete with his anger and be tough on him.  i want to have a relationship with him, where I'm his safe spot, not a person who controls and makes him afraid.  i'm working on it.  one thing that worked today is just letting him be angry, giving him permission and the space to hate me and everything around him and then allowing him to jump into being happy as soon as he was ready.  i assured him that we loved him and to let us know when he was done being angry.  we didn't lecture him as to why he was mad or why he shouldn't rage, we just worked on rewarding that he was ready to be happy.  i think cancer taught me that, i feel like we all need space to be mad sometimes, even if it's not pretty.  life is not always what we expect or want, and realizing that sooner than later is important

when i was little it always took me forever to find a way to be okay again.  i knew how to get good and angry but i had no idea how to come back from it.  sometimes things my parents said, the way they reasoned with me, or just in having space to think about things, made me realize i was wrong  and though i wanted to be okay again, i just did not know how to do that, how to go from having been at one end of the spectrum to the other.  sometimes my mom would just hug me and that would be just what i needed, but as i grew up, it did not get easier, others didn't know to hug me and help me cross over to being okay.  i had to learn eventually that happiness is just a choice.  you just have to decide when its time to let anger go...

i'm trying

the problem with cancer

it's been a bit over a month that we found out.

Tue, Mar 29, 5:02 PM

The date and time stared at me in a text message as I processed 101 configurations of what news my dad would divulge to us at 8:30 pm that evening.

They found out a couple months earlier.  On March 4th, we all went out to eat for my Dad's birthday.  It was confirmed that she would begin treatment.  I keep replaying the dinner over and over again in my head, attempting to remember every detail of that evening's interactions.  The way my mom smiled at me and the way my parents smiled at each other.  I remember how adamant my dad had been about all of us going to Rocky Point for his birthday the last time we'd gathered.  It hurts.  It hurts to know that as we sat there oblivious to the notion of anything wrong, they sat there, composed and 'normal,' they looked at us proudly from afar, asked to take photos of each one of us with our partners, they sat there trying to hide all the pain they must have been feeling.  I'm not well.

It's crazy, you never think this will happen to you, to someone you love, to your mom.

that's the problem

Thu, Apr 21, 7:44 PM
As I walk into a room, if I cross glances with someone, anyone, I wonder if they know.  Why would they? But these are the kind of thoughts that enter my mind ever since the news.  I have nightmares.  I feel this urge to tell everyone.  I don't want people to think it's just a normal day, life is not normal anymore.  I'm angry.  I hate everyone and everything.  I hate politics, I hate activism, I hate life.  Even the sound of laughter bothers me.  All problems pale in comparison.  I don't want to care about anyone but her.  She made me, she's fire.

Tue, Mar 29, 1:00 PM
I had seen my dad that day, he didn't say anything just that he was wanting us to go to the house, but just us, that he wanted to talk to us, but he wouldn't say why.  It was all so mysterious.  We had heard various news about my Dad's health not being well over the last year, so I along with my siblings automatically feared something was wrong with him.

5:45 PM
When Ray got home from work I told him, he seemed worried but told me that everything would be okay, that no matter what they told me that he loved me.  I put my sweater on and got in my car to leave, as I drove off Let It Be played in the background.  I began to cry as I anticipated the worse.  And just like that, out of no where, the thought popped into my head, it's my mom?

8:15PM
my sisters, brother, and I gathered anxiously in the house, my mom suggested we sit in the large living room, an occurrence that seldom happens with the exception of holidays.  I asked why we didn't go to the table, we always gather around the table, but she said no.  She never says no.  It was obvious this was serious, and I was not prepared.

9:30 AM
I dropped off the kids at daycare that day and I called my mom, as I usually do.  I asked what she was up to and before she could answer I proceeded to tell her the laundry list of problems I had and what she thought about everything.  She listened carefully and tried to give me the guidance that I've come to rely on over the years.

I spoke to my mom several times that day as I usually do.  'Go ask your mom' ray teases me sometimes...he gives me a hard time because of my inability to ever make a decision without consulting her.  That's the thing, she's always been there for me.  For everyone that ever needed her or didn't know they needed her, she's always been the kind of person that can't remain unnoticed.  She's stubborn and she's so fucken smart.  She's a problem solver, nothing is ever too difficult for her, because she always figures things out, she's a doer, a person with a positive and persistent drive to get shit done, to solve any dilemma and not dwell on things.  I grew up blessed to have this resource of knowledge and optimism.  And yet, as a child I never appreciated her.  I took her for granted so many times.  I hated that she felt so overbearing.  That her opinion was always offered, and that she was always right.  As I grew up, I began to realize more and more how much I needed her, how incredibly beautiful she is, and how lucky I am to be her daughter.

She's kind, she's good, she's resilient.

8:30 PM
my dad told us he had bad news, that it was a delicate subject and he was sorry he had not told us sooner, that they did not want to worry us, that this and that and it all blurred away into white noise as he spoke and explained and explained, eventually we asked what and who, my mom spoke up loudly as if she was claiming a prize, "Yo" "Yo tengo cancer"

my heart dropped

through the silence the scream of one of my sister's pain froze me, my mom proceeded to beg her and all of us not to cry.  That if we loved her we would be strong for her, because she knows she will be okay, and that she's not afraid.  That she assured us she would be just fine but she needed us to be strong for her and not cry.  As I look at my siblings pain, I interrupted her and lied.  I told her that I wasn't sad nor worried.  that I was not going to be sad if she wasn't sad.  That I knew she would be okay.  The last part I meant and still mean.

I did my best to conceal how frightened I was and am.  I'm so afraid.  I'm more than sad, I'm broken.  Cancer breaks shit up.

that's my background noise.

AND YET cancer also unites.  it's a wake up call as my mom says.  it wakes you up, shakes you up and tells you that all you thought mattered may not matter anymore, that the only thing worth a damn is family and love and relationships

there is so much happening right now, 2 emergency room visits later, one cycle of chemo later, drugs, tears, rage, fear, love, organic food, medical marijuana card, hair cuts, arguments with doctors, food, lots of food...family -- Its' all happening, and its happening so fast

we are all afraid

but,

       all we can do is

                                  Let it Be

and put it on faith,

put it on faith

god willing this nightmare will soon be over

On Race and Gender in this Election

On Gender and Race in this Election

By Angeles J. Maldonado, PhD in Education, Leadership, and Policy Studies from Arizona State University

If Bernie wins, great news.  It will signify a win for progressives.  However, if Hillary wins I will be particularly happy and genuinely optimistic.  As a mother and a woman, it's clearly time to see a woman be president.  Yet voicing this very thought around the sea of self-proclaimed progressives can mean exposing ourselves to shame and even ridicule.  On social media, it would be nice to see more posts indicating why Bernie is the best candidate as opposed to post after post about why Hillary is not.  There is so much unspoken and loud sexism around this election.  So much so, that it has became increasingly difficult to bear witness to the vast amount of abuse that Hillary continues to face, especially from Bernie supporters.

I have seen more posts from Bernie fans bashing Hillary than I have seen posts bashing Trump, and even less bashing Cruz or any other Republican candidate.  Recently, I have become particularly annoyed at the posts praising Bernie's wife, brings me back to women studies 101.  It seems to me that we are more comfortable embracing a woman as First Lady than the threat of a woman President.  But gender doesn't matter here, it's all about the issues we tell ourselves. I don't buy it.  

Gender like Race DO matter.  It's appalling how we can't even recognize what a huge deal it is to see a woman fight her way to the top, Hillary has managed to do that, but we don't care to contextualize her actions, we don't see her as courageous or strong or fierce we see her as a bitch because she did this and that and this.  I think if we want to find a reason not to like her we will find plenty, but what's sad is that an unconscious reason why she's not good enough, for many, has to do with her gender.  

Politics is a dirty game and to me everyone out there is dirty in some way, they are all performing trying to say the right thing to get elected, none of these people really care about us.  That doesn't mean we shouldn't care but I think we need to keep in mind that whoever wins will not resolve our lives, it's up to our community to pressure all candidates to care enough to bring our issues to the forefront.  

I believe the trump enthusiasm is but a reaction and revenge to Obama's historic win as the first Black President.  White supremacy is fighting back.  In the same way dismantling patriarchy continues to remain secondary, because we have more important issues to confront and gender equality alone is unimportant and laughable, it's a past issue.  

As a mother, gender equality matters to me. Hillary winning is a symbolic and necessary win for women, for moms, working moms, stay at home moms, women who spread themselves thin to accomplish their goals despite the many challenges setup expecting them to fail. I want my sons to grow up respecting and seeing women as equals not as secondary beings whose sole job is to serve and attend to the needs of men. 

As a college student I most likely would have voted for Bernie, he says all the right things.  But at this point in my life I want someone who embodies change not just proclaims it.  It's never been easy to be a woman and this election continues to prove exactly why.   The attacks out there against women are not just embarrassing but shameful.  

So while Obama has a horrible track record of deportations and other issues, I'm nonetheless glad he became President because he brought change even if only symbolic, which is many times more important than we care to recognize.  Leadership is always symbolic.  Which is why I long to see more people of color and women and LGBTQ people in positions of power, because we need people that look like us as role models, as symbols and placeholders that illustrate hope that things are changing.  

Given all of this, I continue to be amazed at how crazy people are getting to support yet another white man to power.  I understand the fact that he appears to be the most progressive of candidates, and therefore am sincerely glad his support is increasing, but what I fail to understand is why it’s necessary to be so nasty towards Hillary.  If you are so progressive, then shouldn't for that very reason “self-proclaimed” liberals ought to restrain yourselves from such sexist and aggressive attacks? Focus on why your candidate is the best "man" for the job, and that is precisely where the issue lies.

Dr. Maldonado is a mother and activist scholar whose research focuses on Immigration, Border Crit Theory, and Discourse within the immigrant rights movement in her home state of Arizona.

Writing

It's 935 pm and I feel this intense desire to write, I don't know about what, but it feels so strange to me to recognize that it has been quite some time since I have written.  Sure, there's the occasional facebook posts and status updates, but they are usually superficial and lacking.  One of my favorite things about writing is that it makes me feel relieved, as if in emptying out the words that sit in me that I feel just a bit lighter, perhaps vulnerable that I have allowed my thoughts to escape me, but at the same time a deep sense of relief that they are no longer in me to entertain and organize.  All in all, writing is something that I love to do.  Ever since I was young, I remember journaling what I had for lunch at school, or what had happened in my classroom.  Thus, it seems so bizarre to now abandon a practice that always makes me happy. I have not written in a blog or journal for a very long time and am beginning to feel disconnected from my self.  There's so much to make sense of.  I don't want to say that I'm going to begin to blog again because I'm afraid of not following through and failing...much of my life right now seems unpredictable.  I am now the mother of two children.  My beautiful Stokely Daniel was born on February 20, 2015. Stokely is now four months old and while we have established some routine and accomplished quite a lot, it is nonetheless a journey of ups and downs colored by unpredictability.  Anyway, I guess I enjoy writing because I love the idea of being able to record one's mind, so that my future self can read me and try to understand me.  So here we go.  First some updates:

Having a second child has made me so very happy and at the same time has challenged me in ways I never expected.  Through my children, I am learning the meaning of patience and sacrifice, most importantly what it means to commit.

My children are my life.

They drive me crazy.

crazy.

and yet at the end of the night when they are sleeping, I feel so blessed to have them.  I would not change one bit of my chaotic days.

Stokely and I have been successfully breastfeeding for four months now.  I am so proud of me.  Breastfeeding is such a challenging endeavor, it requires so much of oneself and yet it provides such an intimate connection to your child.  I am so grateful that I was able to establish this.  My present challenge is language.  I am trying my hardest to speak to him only en espanol.  I want him to learn spanish so badly.  I am also trying to teach Ray Emerson, but it is honestly so difficult.  I feel like I am battling the world just to provide my son a bit of his culture.  His environment is so vastly predominated with English words that it many times feels like an impossibility to teach him a language that is not valued enough, particularly here in Arizona. I am currently working part time at the law office and at the same time trying to figure out how and whether to go to law school.  I have to retake the LSAT but life is so busy for me already that at times I wonder if this is even a good idea to entertain.  It's something I have always wanted to do, but at the same time my priority right now are my children.  There's so much I want them to learn and most days I feel like I fall short of being a good mother.  but I continue to try and I guess in parenting that's the most important thing is our effort to strive to be good parents.  I have started to do yoga to help me destress and I absolutely love it.  It is a practice sort of like writing, I feel that it challenges me, and it silences my mind and soul and just allows me to feel alive.  The focus is always on the breath and the pose and the present....something i really want to strive to appreciate more and more...being in the present.  we live so much of our lives in the past or in the planning for tomorrow that we often miss the opportunities to really live today.  There's so much to do in this beautiful world, I wish I could do so much, but the days are always so short.  

Still I think it is important to have goals.  My goals right now are as follows:

1) Teach Stokely and Ray Emerson Espanol
2) Make fitness a priority in my life
3) Be present
4) Continue fighting for things that matter

more later....good night