My response is usually pretty standard. But it's sincere. Every time I look in a mirror and see my kinky curls, I see the same question in my eyes. Every time I visit family and find myself bending down to kiss and hug the tias and primas I tower over with my barefoot 5'6'', I feel out of place. And when I found myself in the backseat of a cab with a Dominican driver who slowed his regular speech pattern for my English-dominant brain to keep up, I remembered every reader question I found myself relating to while I typed up my print column responses.
It's important to note that my 6-year-old sat next to me in that cab, quietly playing on her iPad, looking up curiously on occasion, but never chiming in. She doesn't speak Spanish. She barely understands it. And that, too, makes me sometimes feel like I'm failing. I should be more. I should try harder.