By E. B. Román | 05/10/2012 - 13:42
On this Mother's Day, in 2012, I can't help but think of the time when I was seven years old, standing in the cold basement of our Lincoln, Nebraska home, staring at the picture of a little girl on the cover of a sewing pattern. The girl was wearing corduroy overalls with a big pocket on the front.
"I hope you are going to make me that," I said.
By La La Vazquez | 01/18/2010 - 15:00
A lot of people don’t realize that I’m Latina, which is fine. One thing about being Latina is that there isn’t one look that comes with the territory. I don’t expect people to know my cultural background just by glancing at me. I do, however, expect that when I tell people my family is from Puerto Rico, that I will be believed and not accused of trying to be something that I’m not. It usually goes something like this: a person having a conversation with me discovers one way or another that I’m Puerto Rican and fluent in Spanish.
By Joy Hepp | 11/17/2009 - 14:02
I had been working as a freelance writer and blogger in Mexico City for about nine months when the swine flu began to take hold of the metropolis. “I’m from Los Angeles,” I thought, as events unfolded. “I’ve seen crazier things happen on the 405 freeway.” Reports of strange symptoms, surgical masks in the metro and friends joking about zombie attacks didn’t faze me, but when a small earthquake shook Mexico City’s foundation three days after the strange illness shut down the city’s schools, I began to question my sanity. Who would want to stick around such a cauldron of craziness?