La Vida Es Un Regalo Sagrado

La Vida es un Regalo Sagrado

EXPRESSIONS OF RESISTANCE, RESILIENCE, AND RE-IMAGINATION

Written by the 2017-2018 9th grade Ethnic Studies students at Roosevelt High School

This book was written by the 2017-2018 9th grade classes of Ethnic Studies at Roosevelt High School and printed in January 2020.

The views expressed in this book are the authors’ and do not necessarily reflect those of 826LA. We support student publishing and are thrilled you picked up this book. Las opiniones expresadas en este libro son las de los autores y no reflejan necesariamente las de 826LA. Apoyamos la publicación de jóvenes autores y estamos felices que haya recogido este libro.

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Mar Vista

12515 Venice Blvd.

Los Angeles, Ca 90066

Editors:

Angelica Butiu-Coronado

Sara Ellen Fowler

Marisa Urrutia Gedney

Cover Artwork:

Kalli Arte

Adriana Carranza & Alfonso Aceves

Book Design: Rachel Mendelsohn

This project was made possible in part by support from the Vera R. Campbell Foundation

La Vida es un Regalo Sagrado

EXPRESSIONS OF RESISTANCE, RESILIENCE, AND RE-IMAGINATION

CONTENT WARNING

The individual narratives in this book may contain details on topics such as homophobia, domestic abuse, sexual abuse, self-harm, and suicidal ideations.

PEDACITO

My Father and I: Difficult Relationship by Daniel C. ...................................81

Betrayal and Relief by L.A. ........................................................................82

Sisters by Chance, Friends by Choice by King Lori ....................................84

A Strong Woman Just Like Mom by Stephanie V. .......................................85

December 18, 2016 by Luna N. ..................................................................87

The Limit is Your Imagination by Jeovanie V. ..............................................88

Untitled by Bryant L. .................................................................................90

Not the Perfect Family by J.P. .......................................................................92

Bogo Sipda: I Miss You by Monique M. ......................................................94

Untitled by A.G. ........................................................................................96

Mi Pedacito de Melón by G.P. .....................................................................98

4. WARRIOR OF BOYLE HEIGHTS–EXPRESSIONS OF RELATIONSHIPS............101

Letting Go of Fear and Moving on with Happiness by Maria R. ................102

Soulless by Celia V. ...................................................................................106

The Home that Changed My Perspective by Ashley O. ...............................108

Warrior of Boyle Heights by Ashley M. .....................................................110

From an End to a New Start by Jocelin N. ...............................................114

Putting Myself Before Others by Jonathan M. ...........................................116

Not-Friend by 11 ......................................................................................118

My Past Isn’t My Future by Lourdes I. ......................................................120

End with a Dot by Destiny A. ..................................................................121

Seeking but Never Finding by Damaris R. ................................................124

Just Sit Back, Relax, and Enjoy the Ride by Bianca B. ...............................126

5. BEYOND THE PAIN–EXPRESSIONS OF RESILIENCE...................................128

Dead-Living Girl: My Life Through Foster Care by Caro ..........................129

Untitled by Lizbeth A. ............................................................................132

Beyond the Pain: Forgiveness by Itzel B. ...................................................134

From Lilypad to Success: The Roots of my Resistance by David H. ...............136

Behind My Black Mirror by Delilah G. ....................................................139

My Mom by Heart by Anonymous ...........................................................141

Weakness Doesn’t Run in Our Family by Luis B. ........................................143

One Hella Good Fight by Layal I. ..............................................................145

My So Called Father by Maria A. ..............................................................148

These Wings of Resilience Will Soar by Alicia P. .........................................150

The Story of Me by Cinthia B. ...................................................................151

Think Twice Before You Act by Anthony G. ...............................................153

A House Full of Ghosts by Jesus S. ..............................................................154

Christmas Fire by Martin F. .....................................................................157

Finding Light in the Darkness of Divorce by Deyanira F. ............................158

She Doesn’t Deserve This, No One Does by Samantha E. ............................159

Taking Control of T.S.: Living with Turner’s Syndrome by Venicia R. ..............160

Fat Girls Don’t Give A! by Mariana T. ......................................................162

Divorce: A Blessing in Disguise by Bryan P. ...............................................164

Back-Hand Trick by Gerardo O. ...............................................................165

Pushing Past Fear by James T. ...................................................................166

The Way I Am by Aaron M. ......................................................................167

Success Through Depression by Omar C. .....................................................169

Journey Through Separation by Jorge R. .....................................................171

What’s in a Girl’s Mind? by Jasmine L. .....................................................173

Struggling to Overcome the Fear of Struggling by Anonymous...................176

Fighting Against All Odds by Angie S. ......................................................178

A Pathway of Change by Perlita R.C. .......................................................180 Untitled by Anonymous.............................................................................184

6. LET YOUR TONGUE GO–EXPRESSIONS OF RESISTANCE.................................186

We Resist by Angelina G. .........................................................................187

Where’s the Good in Goodybye by Matthew V. ............................................189

Forgotten Culture by Javier G. ..................................................................192

Breaking the Shackles of Injustice by Steven G. ..........................................194

Behind Miles and Miles of Skin by Lizzie R. .............................................196

Viva la Mujer by Haydee O. ....................................................................198

Treat Us with the Respect We Deserve by Elena .........................................199

Dear Mr. President by Romina R. ............................................................201

Let Your Tongue Go by Lilith KØhler .......................................................204

The Outcast by Anonymous ......................................................................209 Resist by Roberto R. .................................................................................211

INTRODUCTION

We teach Ethnic Studies as a full year 9th grade course, where students engage in a curriculum that centers their voice, lived experiences, and realities. In this two semester course students collectively dig deep to learn about their roots, explore their identity, and build community to strengthen classroom relationships. Relationships are key, given that students will explore heavy topics, such as racism, patriarchy, homophobia, classism, and colorism. The course also explores the history and culture of Boyle Heights, its families and the experiences of people of color in America. Students make sense of the present by looking into the past, from indigenous ways of knowing to the violence of colonialism and the consequences that followed for communities of color.

Ethnic Studies is talking back to the historical erasure in schools and reaffirming our presence and voice. The history of our community starts with us as educators and with our students, as we study our own voice and culture, a healing process begins. While we co-create and document these narratives and analyses, we are legitimizing and institutionalising in our own ways. We are part of a movement that responds to oppressive policies by interrupting the historical racist American school system. We are inserting ourselves into curriculum we have often been pushed out of.

As we create curriculum and plan lessons it is our intention to create space for students to talk about themselves. We invite students to be vulnerable and through that process they learn how to release the fear of sharing their experiences. Once one student goes to that place of honesty, then others have permission to share their emotions just as openly. They hear versions

of their own family histories and experiences in the community and they feel less alone. As students shed embarrassment and shame and write with less fear, it also allows us as teachers to open up in new ways. Transformation requires growth and letting go, and we all face the process together, with vulnerability and empathy.

In class, we question and examine the many internalized dominant narratives to be cool, or smart, or good, or whatever else students are carrying with them. There is not one way of being, or existing, or loving, or healing. Telling their own stories allows more space and reason to let go of the dominant narrative. We’ve been in socialized environments and were taught narrow restrictions of the self and of the definition of history. Everyday stories of people that recognize the dignity of daily survival via hard work and the joy of thriving has little value. Our class interrupts the traditional way of instruction and learning that is so individual and we move into dialogue, sharing, listening, and engaging. We open space for the collective histories. We don’t teach facts. It is through these conversations that hearts are opened and the real teaching and learning start to happen: students see they don’t need permission to be themselves, they become human to each other, true education is listening and learning from each other.

As we move through the three focal points of the course–resistance, resilience, and reimagination–we acknowledge how trauma is often normalized. It is significant that we’re still standing after our experiences, no matter how ordinary or grand that experience is. Survival is acknowledged in these pages. Someone will read this and think, “I am not alone.” These pages are evidence that we exist.

Students might not know what resilience is until they hear Ethnic Studies pedagogy. In Boyle Heights we might not have financial capital, but we do have cultural capital that can help us succeed. The class gives them language for resilience and creates a space for what that can look like in their life, and most often, how they’ve already been practicing these strengths. It is a big moment to have other humans, adults and peers, listen to their story and then be recognized for their strength. This class, alongside the writing and publishing process, creates a container of time and space to give their

testimonio. We ask them to explore the people who have been resilient before them, to trace the paths of achieving resilience and why it’s important. Moving beyond survival is possible. Resilience is in our blood.

We decide how to implement their stories and when we use student writing as a focal point of the curriculum, it legitimizes them as authors, scholars, and the creators of content. Because this is an annual publishing project, every new school year we use the stories of past student published authors from our Ethnic Studies classes as curriculum to help guide our current students through the topics and questions we are learning about and discussing. Out of all the texts we read, students are most enthralled with the stories of peers that were in their position a few years ago. There is validation that their stories will be read, heard, and seen. When students understand the experience of someone else they start connecting to it. It is powerful to see how students open up as they read more and more of the narratives and their expression becomes clearer with confidence. This is the catharsis that writing and reading allows when we humanize the curriculum. These pieces are a mix of celebrations and painful experiences and express full humanity. Acknowledging the good and the bad, then naming it, ultimately creates transformation. We understand that when you aren’t allowed to experience your full senses, it is dehumanizing. It is our intention to humanize pedagogy, so we can be our authentic selves and support students in that same process.

It is important for folks teaching Ethnic Studies to be attuned to the things students are going through. We as teachers authentically care about what they’re going through. We demonstrate our care for asking how they are feeling and adjusting to their needs. We listen closely and respond with compassion. We provide opportunities to engage intellectually using feelings-based curriculum.

We say things like, “I care about you. I love you.” It helps to hear those words from an adult who is not in their family. We normalize the care that can be exchanged in the classroom and we say it is okay to love and care about your classmates. It is okay to care about adults, too.

It is important for our students that we be humble with ourselves so that

we are not seen as an all knowing powerful teacher that is going to get mad at them. This allows us as educators to be vulnerable. There’s so much we’re not going to cover and we have to remind ourselves that is okay. We let them know what we went through at their age and even share our current doubts about ourselves as people in history. It allows them to see how their own doubts about themselves are not real, but learned. It allows us to care for each other. We recognize we’re in a constant process of becoming. We as educators support each other, dive into the scary conversations and support ourselves through that process. Community unfolds through the exploration, even if it’s challenging. We step back, we listen, we take their energy, sometimes they are ready to share and sometimes they are guarded, but they guide the themes of our dialogue. As teachers we trust the work.

MAGDALENA CEJA, ROXANA DUEÑAS, JORGE LOPEZ, LILIANA MENDOZA

Ethnic Studies Teachers at Roosevelt High School, Boyle Heights, CA

1 YOUR VECINO Expressions of Community

THE MAN IN BLACK

ALEXIA C.

Boyle Heights is a place where most of the time you see candles on the side of the road in remembrance of the people who passed away. Candles that signify the person’s last moments in that exact spot. I personally believe this could change; too many people are either purposely or accidentally killed. They either get shot or run over. There are many different ways people have died. Hopefully the families of the loved ones who passed away get to find out why the person did what they did.

At the age of thirteen most kids are focusing on grades and having fun with their friends. Believe me, you were doing that too. At the age of thirteen I witnessed a man get shot. Who knows what he was involved in, but whatever he had done led to his death. It was a Monday morning at around 4 AM when I was woken up by my grandma getting some water. I usually go back to sleep but this time I got up to use the restroom. I heard a loud sound and went over to my window. I saw a man running toward a field a couple of houses down from my house. Then I saw a man in all black pull out a gun and shoot the man from behind, knocking him to the ground. The man in black then ran toward a building to hide from the cops. Eventually the authorities and ambulances came. They put a tarp over the man’s body pronouncing him dead.

This traumatized me in many ways. It affected me in school and at home. I was scared to go outside in the afternoon, my grades slowly started to go down, and I stopped trying for a while. My teachers were getting worried about me so they asked my mom to come in and speak to them. My mom explained everything and they understood. As the days passed, I would walk past the field where the man was shot and I would get the chills and have to walk around it. This was a really hard thing to deal with at the age of thirteen but I got through it. I was resilient through this. I am no longer traumatized by that day. I’ve learned plenty from witnessing the shooting and now know not to mess with the wrong people.

I learned that there are too many shootings in my community. Many times it is young kids being killed. I feel mad at the fact that the person who

killed the man believed that killing him was the right answer but it wasn’t. Kids need support so they won’t get caught up in trouble and end up like the man who died in the middle of the field. This can change.

EMPOWERMENT FOR WOMEN

L.M.

Listen up, men of Boyle Heights! It’s very disrespectful how you guys treat women like they aren’t important to the world. In fact, you’ve made me feel just like that.

The other afternoon I was walking out of school. It was pretty quiet, no one else was walking at this time. I was distracted on my phone, figuring out what song to listen to on my way home. I was about to cross the street but the light was taking forever to turn red. Suddenly a tall creepy looking forty year-old man in a car next to me said, “Aye mamí.” When I wouldn’t turn back he started blowing kisses at me. At this time I started feeling very uncomfortable and felt my neck tense up. I had finished crossing the street and he still tried getting my attention. I thought to myself, “Why is this grown man doing this to a young child?”

When I got home I told my mom what had happened. I didn’t expect the following words to come out of her mouth: “Well,” she said angrily, “look at the shorts you’re wearing! And look at how you’re dressed! That isn’t appropriate for a girl your age.” My voice was shaking and cracking but I managed to tell her, “Why can’t I feel comfortable wearing what I wanna wear?” My mom’s attitude made me have all these thoughts: “Why do girls have to cover up because men can’t handle themselves? It gets me very angry how women can’t feel comfortable in their own bodies and wear whatever they want because men and boys want to stare. Why aren’t men able to maintain themselves and respect women? We should be recognized by our accomplishments instead of the way we look.”

That wasn’t the only time perverts of the world did this. I was cat-called at Evergreen Park. Baseball and softball games were going on, people were riding their bikes, children were playing on the playground, the elderly were playing poker like they always do. It was a very loud and noisy day at the park. I was playing softball with my sister and her team when some teenage boy screamed out loud, “Ooh girl! Nice butt!” and I became really uncomfortable. I tried wrapping my blue cardigan sweater around my waist so he wouldn’t stare, but the sweater was too small. So I told my sister,

“Look I’m just gonna go home. I don’t feel comfortable being here.” As I was walking home I started to cry. I felt like a nobody at that time; as if I were just an object that men want. When I got home my mom asked me, “Qué pasa, hija?” I told her nothing was wrong. I went into my room and just sat there until the day was over. I hid this from my mom because I thought she was going to blame it all on me and make it seem like it was my fault.

Dear men, why can’t you just control yourselves when you see a woman? If you see someone who’s beautiful tell them in a respectful way, not in a gross and creepy way. Women want to be treated like humans not like a toy you can play with whenever you feel like it. Your disrespect has actually resulted in me being stronger and more confident. Keep in mind that your disgusting remarks reflect back on you.

DEAR GENTE OF BOYLE HEIGHTS,

We have lived in a poor community filled with crime and police discrimination. “To protect and serve” is the motto of the LAPD yet they search us based on our identity and we allow ourselves by conforming. Our own neighborhoods are treated terribly. Our schools are old and outdated; streets need new pavement; apartments are dirty and need to be repaired. We need to fight our way through the ruins and rubble of our culture, and succeed to the top. We are the rose that grew from concrete.

We deserve better. We are strong. We have hopes and dreams. Lawyers, politicians, doctors, architects–-the future of our country exists in Boyle Heights. We deserve the same privilege as our fellow White people. We are a caring and invaluable community. We are hard workers who strive for their families, like birds feeding their young. We deserve respect and the utmost politeness from the government.

We deserve all this because we are human too. We get cheated by the system. We are fed up with the lies that the government has given us. We need to fight for our rights and the well-being of our neighborhoods. Protests, walkouts, and letter writing campaigns are all good choices because they will create the social change we want: an improved neighborhood. Low crime rates, good schools, great outdoor activities, more access to medical care, local shops and restaurants.

Sincerely,

Your

vecino

Daniel N.

OVER THE YEARS

JOSEPH C.

Change. It takes so much effort from everyone around the world for things to change. Earth consists of millions of people. If one in a million change then it won’t make a difference. People–young or old–need to change so our world can become what everyone wants it to be: a better place. People want change; they don’t want any judgement, fighting, or comparison. Things like stereotypes and racism need to end in order for our world to change. People need to learn from past problems. If they don’t, we’ll end up reliving it all over again. People need to learn that what happened in the past should stay in the past. We still hold so many grudges against each other. We need to compliment each other instead of insult each other. We need to realize that no one is different from each other, we just have different stories and perspectives. There needs to be more communication with calmer voices. No one has to be loud or violent.

I see how people act toward each other nowadays. I see people fighting and cursing at each other for no reason. My friends always do this to each other and I see other people in my school treat each other like this because it’s become normal for them. Little things like that need to change. Our society has gone through so much, we don’t know how to act. We got so used to people treating us harshly that eventually, we treat others the same way. It’s seen as normal because “everyone else does it.” Just because everyone else does it doesn’t mean we have to.

I have many opinions on how the world must change but I keep them to myself. I feel like people won’t listen to me because all they really care about is themselves and what benefits them. I want to see people being kind to one another and respecting one another. Many things come into play when there is change. People need to learn to agree and communicate because all we are doing is just starting fights and arguments and not getting anywhere. Sure, maybe there can’t be agreements all the time but there can be acknowledgement of how one feels. People like President Trump think they are resolving situations by sending missiles to whoknows-where and saying, “There, it’s done.” Just because he did what he thought was right and some other people agreed with him, doesn’t mean

the whole society agrees. We should instead do something to change what we don’t agree with.

We need to learn to unite because everyone is competing with each other to get to the top of the chain. If people collaborate and work together there doesn’t have to be a hierarchy, and that’s what I want the future to be. Unfortunately that’s just how the world works because that’s how society made it. I want people to enjoy waking up in the morning and going about their day, but unfortunately some people don’t have that. I am very fortunate to have that joy because my mom works hard for her kids and so do many other parents for their families. But some people wake up and don’t enjoy what they are doing. It’s sad because they have no other choice.

I want people to have the option to make their own choices. I want them to have more freedom. People want change but change needs to happen within ourselves first, then as a whole. We can’t rush it, we need to take baby steps. I’m always told to move forward and not look back, but sometimes people are in such a rush, they don’t notice what they are causing. Sometimes people need to take a step back in order to move forward.

FAMILY IMPERFECTIONS

ROSARIO M.

I am Rosario

A daughter of two hard working Mexican immigrants

I stand as a middle child in a family of six

I grew up in an apartment in Boyle Heights

I grew up in a chaotic home

I would hear screaming and arguments between my brother and dad

Growing up with those voices made me wish

Wish that they would treat each other like family

Growing up, I realised this isn’t family

Family is loving and caring for each other

Families should always be together

Through anger and kindness

Family is where love is shown and pain is shared

Even though my family is not perfect

They are still my family

I come from, “Héchale ganas,” put in effort

I hear this a lot from my parents

They say this when I’m failing a class

They say this when I don’t spend enough time cleaning my room

They say this because they care about me

I remember celebrating my birthday with my brother

Even though his birthday was one month before mine

My mom thought it was funny

I remember spending a day at Lincoln Park with my family

Smelling the roasted meat, onions, and chile filled me up

Seeing the children racing around the playground made me laugh and feel happy

It was a fun day for me

I am from an imperfect family

Yet I am the rose that grew from concrete I learned that this shapes who I am I stand as Rosario

A positive Latina female

LIFE IN BOYLE HEIGHTS

DAMIAN A.

For me Boyle Heights is a very busy town. It’s normal for us who live here because we go through it every day. It’s normal to see people working, shopping, running, and being stuck in traffic. All of the people in Boyle Heights are very friendly but some are very weird. It feels like a dangerous yet safe environment. Boyle Heights is a very beautiful place. It has so much culture to its name. Many tourists come here to see how life is.

The violence is what makes the headlines in Boyle Heights. There are lots of gangs which are mainly in Boyle Heights. One gang is White-Fence. They have a large history here in town; they pretty much control half of Boyle Heights. Most of the time it’s very quiet, except when there’s traffic, riots, or parades. The times it gets loud and crazy is when an LA team plays. Whittier Blvd gets really loud when these events happen. When the Dodgers are winning Whittier gets crazy! I was in Whittier when this happened. I was there for about thirty minutes just trying to leave.

In the text “Gateway Of Boyle Heights,” it states that Boyle Heights is very busy, loud and there are a lot of people everywhere. It states that the people in Boyle Heights are grouchy. Some people are very happy and have a great day. Many people in Boyle Heights struggle everyday to feed their families or even feed themselves because of the low pay they get. This is a big factor in Boyle Heights or any community including Mexican/Latino people. We struggle to even pay the rent because of the pay around here, and many people have to leave their houses. We struggle a lot but all of that will be gone once everything gets fixed.

For decades we’ve overcome struggles and we can’t stop now. We’re stronger and better than ever. I want Boyle Heights to have a great history. I want Boyle Heights to be known all around the world but not because of a shooting or anything bad. Boyle Heights will forever be known as a happy and historic place. Living in Boyle Heights makes me stronger because of the things we deal with here. Some kids come from poverty and some kids don’t, but the kids and families that do come from poverty work their butts off everyday to change that picture for them. I always wonder to myself how life would be without all the violence there’s been since Boyle Heights originated.

BENEATH THE SURFACE

ALICIA Q.

Drugs, gangs, drugs, gangs, drugs, gangs

Kids killing themselves because they can’t take the pain

Struggles are an everyday thing

Mommas crying because their kids are dying

Children crying because their older brothers are dying

It feels like drugs are the only thing that takes away the pain

I try to stay strong but can’t hide the shame

Of having to grow up because my father didn’t feel the need to stay

Now I see all these dudes as lames

Mama tries her best to raise us but some days she can’t even face us

Money is always tight. Something just ain’t right

It’s not only me

It’s also the community, always in poverty

No one’s happy living on these dirty streets

Kids come to school because they want to have a warm meal to eat

We feel like school just distracts us

In reality, when will any of this help us?

When will I use x=y

So I might as well not even try

It doesn’t have to be this way; giving up because you felt there was an easier way

We could make it. Not just me, my whole community

Having all the young kids graduate

Filling them with something that’s not hate

Being proud of where they come from

Showing people what we are made of!

It’s not just drugs and gangs

There’s so much more to it

We are a big family who always stands together

You try to bring us down and we’ll just push through it!

No more pushing us to the side, we will fight for what we think is right! We are always standing together, not cracking under pressure

Showing people Boyle Heights is not what they think it is It’s a beautiful place with beautiful people and amazing culture!

THEODORE ROOSEVELT HIGH SCHOOL GEMA A.

Theodore Roosevelt is a high school located in Boyle Heights, a low income community. It was founded in 1922 and is still standing to this day. Roosevelt, a high school where everyone is welcomed. A high school where adolescents discover and approach their dreams. A high school that provides resources for the upcoming generation, to have a bright future. Roosevelt, a high school where teenagers develop goals to graduate and go off to universities. Roosevelt, a high school with amazing teachers and staff who push and support you to become successful. Roosevelt, a place with bright students and open-minded athletes. Roosevelt, a high school with enriched culture. Roosevelt a high school with lots of spirit and pride. Roosevelt, the home of the Mighty Rough Riders.

As a Mighty Rider of RHS and only a freshman, I have had a very fun, exciting, and memorable year. Being part of the volleyball team was great; being able to play for my school and having the honor to wear a jersey from here. I had fun times in the quad on karaoke days or when they wished good luck to all the athletes on their season. Attending the East LA Classic and all our sports events was also a big part of my freshman experience. I have had the privilege and pride to show my school spirit while having a fun time with friends. Besides all the sports and fun, the resources and programs they offer to help support me in my decisions for my future. Roosevelt has counselors who keep us on track with our grades, GPA, and graduation requirements. If at any time we feel stuck with an assignment they try their hardest to help us understand. When we aren’t feeling so well they check on us and make sure we feel better.

So far my experience at RHS has been really exciting. I can’t wait to grow and learn more throughout these next three years. I’m looking forward to graduating RHS and applying all the knowledge I gain into a university and being successful.

2 DREAMS DON’T HAVE BARRIERS Expressions of Encouragement

POSITIVE VIBES

SAMANTHA G.

I always keep in mind two important things: being humble and respectful. Being humble is being generous and never forgetting where you came from; to not feel superior over others or make people feel less-than. Respect is being kind to others even if you don’t know them. A simple, “Good afternoon” shows respect towards others.

My brother has impacted me a lot. Everytime we go out he gives me speeches and advice. He tells me that a simple, “How was your day?” or “How are you?” can make someone smile because you’re showing them affection and caring about them. Giving them your time to talk about their day makes them feel special. My mindset was different before but I have gone through experiences and my perspective has changed.

I remember once I was having a bad day. I wasn’t feeling it and some lady told me, “Have a great day, don’t forget to smile!” I smiled after and it actually made me feel happy. Positive vibes are all around. I am always smiling because there’s no reason to be sad. Life goes on and we should live life to the fullest. When passing by someone, if you don’t want to talk to them at least smile at them no matter who it is. We all have different stories so we shouldn’t judge others without knowing their background. Some may say you get what you give. I’ve heard multiple people say this but we are no one to judge. What goes around comes around.

We are all different and have gone through our own difficulties but we shouldn’t hold grudges towards anyone. We shouldn’t be resentful, we should spread positivity. If we would all support each other everything would be so much better. We should leave a legacy for our future generations to look up to. Even if we feel down we should be resilient for what we want to accomplish. Smiling at people is a sign of gratitude and showing respect. We are not perfect, no one is, we all make mistakes. We should learn from those mistakes and get back up. Showing these characteristics help us have an open mind. Don’t give up, keep working on what makes you happy.

PROPHECY FROM THE PAST LUIS C.

Dear Legacy,

You didn’t come from a prominent place but you can still strive. In fact, some people may say that you come from the slums, the lower side of the spectrum. Rich people are who we wish we could be. If we do ever reach the top, a place of stability where all possibilities and all opinions are open, you still have your origin and ideas of how people should act.

Your ideas are your own so treat them as such and maintain faith in them. Legacy, never forget where you came from. Never forget your roots and the hardships that formed you—from Mexican food and customs to problems with wealth. Never forget the ideas you grew up with and hopefully continue throughout your lifetime. Ideas that shape how your life is and how it will continue.

You, Legacy, have brought happiness to our family through financial stability by assisting them with bills. It’s financial stability that keeps the family joyful and together. You, Legacy, brought what everyone yearns for; peace. Even though you can’t change the world at least you can help the places you interact with. Not only did you bring us together, you opened new gates for our future generations. Schools and resources have all been expanded.

Legacy, with your job you brought joy and creativity to kids and teens alike. Even though you may be at the top you can still improve by assisting your community and the people around you. You have reopened the kindness within your heart and are sharing it with people who wouldn’t have done the same. What you form will always stay alive in the memories you have constructed with others. Let your kindness strengthen the connections between you and others. I know you want to make a change. I understand you, I lived your past. I know it is hard but even in the darkest of times with the smallest of chance, you must persevere and pull through. You aren’t like the people who watch time fly by, whether it be from fear or selfishness. You will pull through and make a difference.

Legacy, even if your physical incarnate no longer exists you must leave an imprint in history. Whether it be family history or world history, if you improved something for the better that means you will always be known after death. Don’t think of death as a bad thing. Think of it being a renewal, time for someone new to take your place in the circle of life. When you leave, a whole new life will come into this world. I only wish I could do something to help them live life to the fullest. But if it is your final hours, it is your last ditch effort to make my legacy something important. Oh Legacy, I only wish that you make me proud and make yourself a name that people will remember. In the end Legacy, I only wish we will be remembered in the hearts of those we assisted during the time we were alive.

Sincerely,

Your Past Self

HAPPINESS THROUGH THE GREY AND BLACK WALTER P.

Dear Twin,

I remember like it was yesterday. We were young, and you and Angel would come over to Grandma’s house. The air was always filled with the smell of carne, tortillas, or pupusas. Grandma, with her hair always in a bun, loved to cook and take care of us. I remember always looking out the window to see if you guys were there. When you came in we would immediately start a wrestling match but someone always ended up hurt. After our match, Grandma would say, “Ven y siéntate para que podamos comer.” When we walked in we would see all the food laid out for us on the table. Grandma made dessert and watered the plants by the kitchen window- that was the best. I remember getting in trouble together and feeling scared everytime Tio told us scary stories of El Cucuy, even though we told him not to. But we still listened to the story and we would be afraid the whole night. Angel would tap me excitedly, “Walter, I see red eyes! I see red eyes! It’s here, it’s here! We’re gonna die!” and we would all cry. Everyday seemed perfect when you and Angel came over. We all grew up together; I see you and Angel as my brother and sister.

We were excited and happy kids together but things changed. You faced a lot of home difficulties like your dad often leaving you and your mom. This caused you to stress out, break out in tears, or have thoughts of running away, which I’m glad you didn’t but it shows how much it impacted you. That’s not all. Your brother Angel physically, verbally, and mentally abused you and your siblings. I want to acknowledge how strong, smart, and resilient you are for staying positive and not crying in front of strangers. Even though you experienced these tough times, you try your hardest to not let that stop you from schoolwork and your love of playing softball. You inspire me to do well in school. When I am playing basketball and I shoot or drive in, you are my motivation to play my heart out and to get better everyday. You also inspire me to stay positive everyday. Of course there are times when you’re negative and unhappy but it’s not your fault.

My advice to you is to not be negative or self-defeating; it won’t get you anywhere. It might make you stress out more or even make you depressed. I advise you to avoid the temptation of drugs because sadly, look at what it did to Angel. He went from a nice, friendly, funny kid to someone we never thought he would be. He has already faced jail time and can still go to jail if he violates his probation. I encourage you to forgive Angel. I know you might be saying I’m crazy but he’s family. Even though he’s said or done things to harm you he still cares about you deep down. Some of his actions have already proven it. And if nothing seems good or you start to freak out, I encourage you to call me or pray, and keep praying, for you and your family.

You have made me understand how important it is to have a cousin who you unconditionally trust. I feel more secure, motivated, and just plain happy that we grew up together. I hope one day you, Angel, and I can share that sibling bond we used to have when we were young… I miss that. I can’t wait to see you soon, hopefully. For sure we will one day see each other. Then I will get to hear you talk and see you smile again. You’re something else, Naomi. Just don’t forget how strong, smart, and resilient you are.

Love, Your Twin

YOUNGER TO FUTURE SELF S.P.

Dear Future Self,

You graduated high school and were accepted to a four-year university. I hope you maintain your grades throughout the year. Remember when you used to stay up late trying to finish pointless essays that were due before school started, or finishing your book and reading log so you were ready to take the AR test? I hope all the time you spent reading, doing homework, and stressing over grades paid off.

You might have found it challenging to succeed coming from a low income community where families of ten live in two bedroom homes. Where space is tight and windows are so small you’d think everyone was holding their breath. Houses are unkempt, empty, and unenjoyed because the owners are too busy working to afford them. You lived in Boyle Heights, where hardworking, brown skinned, curly haired people surrounded you. The streets are filled with homeless people sleeping in the middle of the day. They are the cracks in the sidewalks of the city we live in. So many people walk by without even noticing. Others step over them pretending they’re not there. Who will fix this? The homeless are a test of our generosity. You see them suffering in the heat or the freezing cold. You see them looking for scraps between trash cans and in dark alleyways, trying to find a way to survive in this world. The stores are closed down all the time but fast-food places are more common to see, and busier than healthier markets.

You did not let that affect you. You were focused on school and involved in sports like softball. You won Eastern League Championship for the first time- that was awesome. Remember the time you impulsively stole homebase on two outs on a passed ball and slid because it was a close call? You were called safe so you took the leading run for your team. You earned As and Bs in every class to stay eligible to play softball.

Be sure to get more sleep and be positive. Wake up and tell yourself, “I’ll get schoolwork done and have a good practice. I’ll come home hoping Mom’s calm and peaceful.” If you don’t get enough sleep that affects your

mood and how you feel about doing schoolwork. This will transform your future by leading you to a good path for our education. By graduating and going to a good university, you will create a different foundation and lifestyle for yourself. You’ll live in a safer place with clean streets, healthy restaurants, and better air to breathe. Because of what you’re doing now, you will be strong, brave, independent, confident, motivated, and secure.

Sincerely,

S.P.

DREAMS DON’T HAVE BARRIERS

MELANIE R.

My older sister Lizeth is one of the few people I look up to. She has inspired me to become a better person and strive for success, considering the obstacles she’s overcome. Being undocumented has to be the hardest obstacles she’s ever faced, coming to a new country and growing up with nobody to guide her. Since she is the oldest she wants the best for my sisters and I; she looks out for us and helps us when we need it. Despite the experiences she’s been through she still manages to stay strong and keep moving forward. My sister inspires me to never give up in life no matter what situation we are put through.

My sister is currently attending a university. She even received scholarships as a reward for her hard work. Everyday she is targeted and has to encounter different stereotypes and humiliations for being undocumented. It has never affected her negatively. Instead, it inspires her to become a greater person and prove to others that no matter where you come from, anyone can accomplish anything. According to her, dreams don’t have barriers, which is why she continues to achieve her goals. She has made my parents and I very proud because she is a first generation student.

We all face struggles, different ones but in some way they are all alike. Just like my sister has faced many barriers and has never given up, I need to overcome mine. I’ve witnessed her sleepless nights, always studying even when things got tough for her and nobody else could help her. It shows how strong she is. The example she has set for my sisters and I has encouraged me to always strive for success. Sometimes I face difficult situations and think that I won’t get through it. But, I also think of how far my sister has come and what she has accomplished. If she can do it so can I.

I want to make my parents as proud as they are of my sister because I know I can do it. I am thankful to have an older sister like her to guide me throughout my journey. She didn’t have anyone growing up and still managed to advance in life. I want to make her proud. I have learned that we are always going to face obstacles in life but that shouldn’t stop us from moving forward. I’ve had my good and bad days and my sister had it worse,

which is why I want to continue working hard in school to get to where I want to be. I am well aware that I can accomplish any goal I have if I set my mind to it. My sister has played an important role in my life, she has taught me so many things and accomplished so much, which influences me.

Even though I will face unpleasant circumstances I will keep moving forward and stay strong. I know I am capable of succeeding and accomplishing anything I want for myself because I have a great example who has inspired me to have this mindset. Anyone can achieve their goals if they keep trying no matter how tough life may get. For my sister, her dreams will never have barriers and neither will mine.

WHY I RESIST

JACKELINE P.

Dear Music,

You are one of the main reasons why I resist. Thanks to you I have a new perspective on the way the world really works and what its major flaws are. Just like there are all these people willing to do whatever it takes to see others succeed, there are also people out there who will do anything to make sure others won’t. Other than my family, you are one the greatest forms of support I have. All the different types of music I listen to help whatever mood I maybe in at the moment.

When I’m feeling sad I usually listen to Amine; their vibe just makes me smile. Their music and song lyrics can be so relatable and make everything better. You have given me a reason to try and resist the unfairness in our society, such as the hate people experience based on their beliefs and their actions. These things aren’t fair and at times can be demeaning. Through music, people express themselves and the beliefs they have. They use it as a way to help distract people from what’s happening. They might be suffering from depression or suicidal tendencies but they use music as a way to escape these feelings.

There are many artists who resist both political and personal wrong-doings and express themselves through their music. They speak of their past experiences and how they were able to get through their problems. An example is NWA. They have many bad past experiences with racism and police brutality and they let everyone know about them. There are many ways the world can be racist, classist, and sexist; but many singers resist through their music. Through their music I have learned ways I, myself can resist this unfair system. I’ve learned not to go along with it but instead, fight it in whatever possible ways. That could mean making sure other people aren’t doing things they know are wrong, not just for themselves but for others around them.

Two of my greatest idols would be Eminem or Dr. Dre. They have both

been through so much in their lives and still manage to be their best. Dr. Dre has gone through many acts of racism and has been a victim of police brutality. He didn’t physically fight back but that doesn’t mean he didn’t fight back at all. He fought back through his music and expressed himself in whatever ways he could. Thanks to him I’ve learned things don’t always have to get physical in order to change our community. I’ve learned not to listen to everything people say and avoid the hate people may be throwing at you. “It ain’t that I’m too big to listen to the rumors/ It’s just that I’m too damn big to pay attention to ‘em” (Dr. Dre). People need to learn to listen and have respect for what others have to say.

Eminem wasn’t exactly the same but he had a pretty similar story. He was constantly being attacked for being a white rapper and not fitting into the stereotype of a rapper. A lot of people think, “Every rapper is an ignorant, violence promoting, explicit Black guy from the ghetto,” as said by TDotniggaxx on genius.com. He also did not get physical but did fight back through a lot of his music. From him I learned not to let anything affect you in a personal manner just go for it. Listening to Eminem makes me happy. My mood can go from, “I act like s*** don’t phase me. Inside it drives me crazy. My insecurities could eat me alive” to, “But then I see my baby. Suddenly I’m not crazy” (Eminem, Hailie’s Song).

Thank you, music, for everything you’ve done for me and for the ways you’ve helped me get through most things. When I’m feeling sad there is always someone’s music out there who will help me feel better. When I first found out that someone I knew from elementary school had been shot and killed, I was really sad. What made it worse was that it happened on a Sunday. I had school the next day and had to be surrounded by people when I just wanted to be alone. I got through the day thanks to music. I had my earphones in all day trying to avoid everyone around me. I know you will always be the one thing that’s there for me, even when my family or friends aren’t. Thank you for everything.

Love Always, Jackeline P.

MY BULLETPROOF LIFE AVRIL

Dear Suga (Korean rapper from BTS) and Viki Rakuten,

I am writing to both of you because I want to be positive and appreciate the changes you added to my life. I chose to write a letter to people and items that inspire and help me resist oppression. I have learned not to fall into ideological oppression because I am someone greater. I will always be thankful to have you, Suga in my life. Before I was introduced to your world, music, and ways of self-expression, I didn’t know how to be true to myself.

I was scared of the worlds other people lived in. I couldn’t relate or find a safe place where there was a connection I could fit into. When I was told I wasn’t good enough or I had to change something about myself, I believed them and drowned myself in my own shame. I was in a stage of depression where I felt alone in the beginning of high school and became an outcast. I always felt something inside of me was different, longing for something else.

I started listening to K-Pop this year with your group as my first boy band. I came across your amazing group while watching my favorite YouTube videos, “Teens React.” The first song I listened to was, “I Need You.” I loved the style of music although I couldn’t understand anything I heard. When your lines came up and you rapped I felt a desperation in your voice and felt my first connection. I read your lyrics and became attached to your music.

I learned you overcame many issues and suffered majorly on your way to becoming a rapper. You suffered through the worst depressions and being left alone in the world. I am thankful you were strong enough to overcome those dreadful times and be who you are today by writing songs that explain your feelings and allow your fans to feel your pain and connect to you. Your music gives me hope. I am not alone in losing myself and I have a place in this world. I have learned to love and express myself freely with my friends. You will always be someone I can look up to and I look forward to

the special day I get to see you live on stage.

If you had never entered my life, I know I would still be looking for you. I’d still be lost, wondering where I belong and who I can connect to. I now feel relieved and look forward to everyday. Instead of using subtitles I sometimes just listen to your voice to forget all my problems. I feel the world fall off my shoulders because I have one person I look forward to everyday. Even though the K-Pop industry didn’t recognize your talent before, they now know how special you are. Thousands of ARMY’s (Adorable Representative M.C for Youth) will always be there to support you and cheer you on. I wish you the best and hope you can help more people escape the mask they hide behind just like you helped me. Keep sharing your best and worst moments with the fans who look up to you and wish you nothing but the best in the world because they love you.

Viki Rakuten, the video streaming website is something I am also thankful for in my life for helping me overcome my darkest times. Through Viki I was able to find who I truly was when I felt locked up on my own. My mother always told me to be true to myself and never let anything or anyone else stop me from letting my colors shine. She told me to find something that made me special and never be afraid of it. My friends have always been different from me and liked other things I never took interest in. I felt alone until I made a connection with Suga then discovered Viki to see the world of K-dramas. I found Viki as my safe little world and a place where I can be myself. I was able to connect to the actors. I could cry, laugh, feel numb, and angry with them. It let me feel new emotions I wasn’t able to express with people around me. The first K-drama that made me feel this way was, “W”; I will never find a better experience than this.

I want to live a new happy life now and be able to travel to Seoul, Korea and see how beautiful it is on my own instead of seeing it on-screen. Thank you to both Suga and Viki, for showing me how to shape my life and loosen up from my depression and social anxiety. I appreciate that my life has both outlets and I never want to let go of the wonderful memories they brought me. Keep working hard Suga, fighting!

With Love, Avril

LITTLE BIG DREAMS

ALEXIS R.

When I grow up I want to show everyone that I accomplished my goal of being a pediatrician. Not a lot of people believe I can reach my goal because I am the type of person who starts something then tends to slack off or give up easily. When I talk to my family and friends about my dream they are surprised. They assume I’ll do softball or cheer to get scholarships for college. Becoming a pediatrician has been my dream since I was young.

When I was about five years old, my parents bought me toy doctor’s equipment so I could pretend to be one. Another dream for myself is to graduate with straight A’s in order to get accepted to my future college. I have the pressure of a family that has graduated with a 3.0 GPA or higher, making it harder for me to do poorly. The thought of hearing my whole family cheer me on as my name is announced at graduation is what keeps me motivated.

In order to reach my goals I need to attend medical school for an extra seven to ten years. The extra schooling will have me up in the morning, stressing about a paper I haven’t finished yet. I will be up late some days, studying for a final. As of now, I stay up every night to catch up on work and finish projects. This is preparing me to be ready and know what to expect for the future. I want to change how busy I am at times because I need to have time for family. I am always balancing schoolwork and sports practice. I want to change that so I can reach my dreams and feel successful.

No one in my family was dedicated enough to even finish high school. Most of my cousins dropped out because of gangs, money issues, or our great grandparents passing away. I don’t want to end up like them, not graduating and having to struggle to find money or look for a job. My great grandfather always told me, “Alexis, go to college and accomplish your goals. Ignore anyone who puts you down. Don’t be like your aunts and uncles who didn’t finish high school.” Ever since my great grandfather passed away, I remember his words as a guide towards a better path for my future.

In the future I want to be able to look back at this and tell myself I made it. This piece of writing is my motivation and reminder of why I want to reach my goals. In the future, I can show this to my kids and tell them, “You can do anything you want to do.” In life, anything can be difficult until you get the hang of it. Then it gets easier and you will want to keep going.

THE SKY’S THE LIMIT

BRYAN N.

My biggest dream is to go to college. I want to achieve a career and make my parents proud. My past experiences have traumatized me to believe I don’t have a chance to accomplish this goal. In elementary school I was a good student. I did well because I would study for tests, do homework, and always finish my class work on time. Once I got into middle school I started failing. It reached a point where I wasn’t able to culminate. When my parents found out, they were angry with me.

That day I got home in a good mood from hanging out with my friends at the park. They received a letter explaining I could not culminate. I walked in my house and my dad started to scream at me. I was scared and did not want to listen to his lecture. After our conversation I thought of ideas to fix this issue. The next day I asked all my teachers how I can make up my missing work. Some of my teachers gave me that chance but two of them told me no since I didn’t take the chance the first time. I was told I had to work from then on to raise my grades and I did culminate. I realized what life would have been like if I had not procrastinated. Despite the difficulty of the work, I didn’t give up. Even though my friends did not culminate they told me, “You don’t need to culminate. It’s all good. You’ll still move on to the next grade without any problems.” I made the choice to make my parents proud instead of my friends. My parents deserve to see me succeed for all the hard work they do for me. My only priorities are to go to school and get good grades.

Going through my experience reminds me I have faith in myself to go to college. I continue to fail in school but my habits will change. I am trying to change that habit of avoiding homework. I will continue to achieve my dream and break all the barriers in my life.

SHOOTING AND DIVING FOR YOUR BASKETBALL

DREAM WHITECHOCOLAT234

Dear Me,

Hopefully you got what you have wanted your whole life. Hopefully you have grown into a successful person by making the right choices each day; like staying away from drugs and moving yourself away from toxic people. This will lead you to a better life than most people. You can achieve your dream of attending your favorite university, Duke University, and hopefully becoming an NBA player.

Remember all the people who hated on you and would tell you, “You’re too short to play professional ball. You’re not good enough, you’re trash, you’re wack.” All they did was try to penetrate your soul and destroy your dreams. But they won’t because you have people who support you like your parents, closest friends, and grandparents. They provide for your needs; your clothes and school supplies. Acknowledge them for helping you through your problems.

Your determination took you all the way. Your motivation and all the positive things your coach told you, “This young athlete has the potential of being big, of going far in his dreams. You can do it. You just have to have determination and support. You are short but I’ve been taught height doesn’t matter.” Hearing him say that made me happy that he believed in me pursuing my dreams. It is true that height doesn’t matter. Some players in the NBA may be short but they play incredibly well. I will be another person added to that list.

You pushed yourself, remember how exhausted you were? Your feet would ache so much it felt like you were walking on needles. You were resilient for going through the pain, walking from Roosevelt to the bridge by the Mercadito. Your back pain was so bad you couldn’t even bend down. Your knees would crack every time you bent down and they’d hurt when the weather was bleak and cold. Yet you still managed. By the time you got home around 5:00 or 6:00 PM you were always hungry. Yet you never quit- you jumped straight into your homework like you’d jump to make a

basketball shot. You would lock yourself in your room to get all of it done before eating. You still had time for your family.

You pushed yourself to achieve your dreams, showing transformational resistance and making a permanent change in your life. Remember the quote you would tell yourself, “No pain no gain!” Hopefully you set the haters aside and kept your supporters very close to you in your times of need. Having this mindset in life will hopefully take you all the way. You can help others who want to do the same and explain to them the exact things you had set in your life.

Sincerely, Whitechocolat234

REASON FOR HOPE: A LETTER TO MY FUTURE SELF BRIAN G.

Dear Future Self,

Has the world finally cracked you? Have you fallen to society’s stereotypes that you’ll end up selling drugs, doing manual labor, or give up on being a mechanical engineer? Did you let people tell you who you are and accepted them, or did you prove them wrong? Did you push through no matter how hard it got, no matter how hard you doubted yourself?

I hope you proved them wrong and helped your community out by doing so. Did you fulfill your dream of becoming an engineer? Did you build or design something that has never been done before? Are you solving the world’s problems and giving back to your community that has done so much for you? Maybe you beat the odds and made it to the NBA. Are you a starting center for the Clippers or Lakers, or did you not grow much so you became a guard? I know dribbling is your Achilles heel, so that should have been a hard transition.

Was college an option? Were you able to study and follow your passion for engineering/technology, and truly find who you are as a person? Or were you denied the right to education? Do you remember not wanting to go out because you were afraid of being taken away? You were afraid to take new opportunities, letting it control your life. I hope you didn’t stop at high school and settle for minimum wage, living from paycheck to paycheck like your parents did even though they told you to do better. Hopefully the future is nicer and you don’t have to live in fear of being taken away.

I hope you have overcome the oppression because I’m starting to crack. I have lost faith and am losing grip on what I truly believe in and strive for. I am falling into society’s beliefs about me and my Latino community. I really believed I could make it, that I can make a difference in the world but lately I haven’t been feeling that way. I hope you have turned this around. Use it to push yourself further and harder, and not let it control you or define you. I hope you used it to prove people wrong instead of using it as a reason to do badly.

Is DACA finally back? Has there been another African or Mexican person in the White house again? I hope in the future racism isn’t a thing, but I believe I know the answer to that. I’m sure racism will always be in people’s thoughts. People may not perform acts of racism but they still believe in it. I also hope you learned to work with people. I know you don’t like working in groups-or at least I don’t. I feel like it slows me down and I can do it myself. In reality I can’t; I need someone to help me think straight, bounce ideas off of, and see things in a new way. I hope you made it in life with the help of others who are with you, celebrating together. I hope you become open minded and allow others to help you and share their opinions with you, thus allowing you to grow as a person.

Sincerely,

Younger You

BEAUTIFUL

WOMAN

LESLIE G.

Dear Beautiful Woman,

My name is Leslie, I am a ninth grader at Roosevelt High School. I was scrolling through Instagram and came upon a picture of you. It was a before and after picture of your gender transformation. What I saw was a beautiful woman, I thought the picture was amazing. You really surprised me because I never knew such experiences existed. I got curious about other people’s responses and saw half of the comments were against you. I never thought one picture could cause so much hate towards you. I thought to myself, “She doesn’t deserve this.” A lot of people don’t like seeing or hearing about transgender people. You showed resilience and bravery because although you knew you might get a lot of hate, you kept going and you didn’t let fear get to you. I admire how you dress, do your makeup, and how bold you are. You are amazing and inspiring to others who are scared to show who they really are. You didn’t back down, you wanted to show the world who you really are. I’m impressed by the way you’ve dealt with negative comments to your picture. I know it’s hard to hear other people’s opinions but you completely ignored them and didn’t let them affect you.

You didn’t put others’ happiness before yours. You chose to post it. If I were in your place I would’ve been really scared and worried about what other people could think about me. Your picture taught me to not let fear decide my future. This has encouraged me to be a better person and not put others’ happiness before mine.

Sincerely, Leslie

G.

DON’T GIVE UP BRYAN S.R.

Dear Future Self,

Read this when you are down or feel like giving up. You got this! First of all, keep listening to music and playing football, that is your life right theredon’t ever quit! If people say you are not good enough you have to get up and show them who you are. Same thing with music, if people don’t like it, see what’s wrong with it and keep going, keep making changes and improving. Even if your parents don’t want you to pursue music, explain your passion to them and just do it. Do what you love.

Pass your classes. If you don’t, Mom and Dad are going to be mad again. Remember what they do for you; Mom always wakes you up every morning. She makes that good food you eat. Dad, he buys you stuff. When you used to fail he would tell you to keep trying. Just do the best you can and you will pass, trust me.

Believe in yourself. Never question yourself, bro. If you believe you are the best then you are. Don’t call yourself dumb either and don’t say it’s your fault when it isn’t. Keep making beats even though they are lame. Just keep trying to put them together. You might not be rich enough to buy things but remember that dream you had. On March 28, 2018 you dreamt that you had a music set and it was really fun- being really rich and all. Get rid of your shyness. When you grow up you are going to have to sing on stage and make people feel what you feel and make them emotional too.

Keep writing, bro. In your phone or anywhere you want to. It’s just you and your thoughts, no one will judge you there. Make it big and make Mom proud. When you were young your goal was to write a song about your mom and dad because they’re the best parents in the world. Don’t forget to make that song for them. Sing it to them before they die even though they don’t get it. Picture them, they will smile and clap to the beat and be happy for you.

Another thing, just be single. That way you don’t have to worry about

anything other than yourself. “We can break up if you want to be single, if that’s what you want. I’m just letting you know,” Vanessa said. In the past you wrote this for yourself. Read it, don’t skip through it:

You’re the best. There is only one of you

And I know you know it’s true

I want you to be successful in life

I want you to grow really old and have your wife

I want you to be happy

I don’t want to wake up and be cranky and snappy

I want you to have money

And desire what you wanted when you were little which was a bunny

And buy new clothes

And go shopping every weekend, you know how it goes I want you to pass everything and even go to college

I want you to grow up and use all that knowledge

You are the best and in the past you did not do so well. Remember how fun it was when we went to the forest with everybody? Even though it did not look like you had fun, I know you actually did. In the past you had a great time. Now it’s up to you to grow strong for the people who say you can’t do it. Look at you now. To become the best rapper ever is your dream. Your goal is to make Strong Force live forever and become a legend.

Sincerely, The Past You

REIMAGINATION

ZARINA O.

In life everyone has different imaginations and experiences. When I was a little girl I had different imaginations. I believed everyone would be alive forever because I had never seen or experienced death of my loved ones. Sometimes we can have more beliefs in our life regardless of our childhood. Our beliefs are our imaginations and it also can affect our lifestyle. I believed that death didn’t exist in the world. In fact, I didn’t know what death was at all. I always wondered about this until my grandmother died and I lost her forever.

The death of my grandmother was a terrible event in my life. Sometimes our imagination is not enough to cope with change. We must use it and make it alive. We must experience something to become more specific and free from the mistakes in our imagination world. My grandmother was so important to me, she was my mom. All of my family members were friendly and kind and I loved them too. But when I was a little child my family sent me to my grandmother’s house. I spent all of my life with my grandmother until I grew up. She was more than a mom to me. Me and my grandmother spent so many sweet moments together. We were alone in a big house with a big garden behind our house- a garden full of different trees, fruit, vegetables, and flowers- it was beautiful. I loved my grandmother very much and she loved me. She was my only hero.

On a cold and snowy day, my grandmother became very sick. She was sick for a few days and on a Monday afternoon she died. I felt alone when my grandmother died, I didn’t know what do. I couldn’t cry or anything, my body was frozen. It was odd for me, there were more questions in my mind, “What should I do? How did it happen? Why did it happen? What will happen next?” I was confused. Even with all my imagination, I couldn’t think about anything. I didn’t go to school for weeks and my imagination affected me more than anything. I lost myself in my imagination.

This was the time I tried to come up with the idea that everyone must fix their imagination in order to feel better and have a better life. It wasn’t easy for me to believe the death of my grandmother but I tried to fix my

imagination. It was old and in need of some changes. I needed to feel good about the reality of what will happen for everyone in life so I thought about death. What is with all this fuss and confusion about death? Use your power of reimagination to try and visualize a world without death! Death is the essential condition of life, not an evil. Do not use our imagination in a wrong way. We should try to make our life better not bitter.

I remember one of my grandmother’s powerful advice, “Never give up, my daughter. Life is a bad enemy. Do not let life make you weak. Try and try again until you become successful.” I loved her advice. They were special for me because they had a big message for a better life. Imagine you want to be an important person in life. You may face obstacles in your way but there are more solutions for each of them. It is very easy to overcome challenges by yourself. Use from your best and most unique power; your imagination. Be sure of yourself, believe in your imagination. A true sign of success and intelligence is not just knowledge, it is the power of your imagination. I believe imagination is stronger than knowledge. The myth is more potent than story. Dreams are more powerful than facts, if you care for them. It is our turn to believe these beautiful facts and start imagining from now on.

Sometimes our imagination needs some changes too. Maybe sometimes, some of our imagination becomes worthless. We need to learn not to give up and fix them through reimagination. Make your imagination a big proof of your success. Do not care about some mistakes in your way because without mistakes, we cannot improve and create big changes in our life. Through reimagination, fix your best imagination. Reimagine something useful about your life and make a change by following these easy steps: imagine, reimagine, do not give up, stand up, and dare to make your own way. Write your destiny with the pen of imagination and approve it through reimagination. Do not let the problems in life make you feel inferior. The world of our reimagination is full of big ideas; we should use them to change the world.

Nobody can live your life and change your way. Reimagination is a very important level of success in life. Imagination can pave the way for your choices in life but reimagination can make your dreams alive.

Reimagination reassures the belief that our imagination is strong enough to become true. Our imagination is the main structure for our success building, but reimagination is doing something meaningful with it. When you start to develop the power of your reimagination, the whole world will open up to you. We do not need magic to change the world, it’s within ourselves.

OVERCOMING MY CHALLENGES

GIOVANI A.

A challenging moment I had to overcome was my eating habits from the age of eight to twelve. When I was young I came to be obese. I saw the whole world in a different way, I saw the world as a lot faster and I was just moving slower than everyone. Everyone was growing up, getting into sports and I wanted to be like them, but it was hard for me to run as fast as an average person.

In middle school I started to change how I lived and how I ate. My mother forced me to run with her at the park which became one of my motivations. I also lifted weights to lose fat and gain some muscles. I found many ways to start exercising and I found my motivation to not give up halfway. I learned about what to eat if you want to cut fat or bulk in muscle.

I had many role models but when I was younger I loved running. One of my favorite role models is Usain Bolt because I was trying to be fast and have stamina just like him. The reason that changed my mindset was at the start of middle school in seventh grade. My friend challenged me to a race at the race track right after P.E. class. The race was at least 600 meters and back then I stood no chance. I lost by one minute and thirty seconds and that’s when I knew I needed to change.

When I first started to change it was the most painful and stressful experience I had ever had in my entire life. But I was so happy, I didn’t want to stop exercising. That was when I started becoming faster and became one of the best runners in my seventh grade class. My small accomplishments motivated me to keep going and that is why I didn’t stop half way. I was motivated to remain at the top of my class, or at least one of the best. I lost a lot of fat and weight from my runs and weightlifting. When I entered eighth grade I met other people who were also motivated to be on top. That is what started our rivalries and our group of friends. I became good friends with all of the people that were like me.

My obesity still haunts me even though I’ve left it for now. I feel a lot of pity for my younger self, not knowing the damage I was doing to my own

body. My obesity always made me feel angry but I can control my anger a lot better now that I am healthy. After my change, I felt like I could become one of the best. I see myself in the future as a person who can still change mentally and physically to be even better than I am now. I hope my experience will motivate you to become more athletic and have a healthy life.

PONTE LAS PILAS ANONYMOUS

Dear Future Self,

You are a smart, strong, young lady even though you may not think you are. Look back at the difficult times you have gone through and all the times you’ve accomplished the goals you set for yourself. Having your family doubt you all the time saying, “You won’t make it” yet you did it anyway! You spent long nights making sure everything was perfect.

You didn’t have a real connection with your grandfather until the day of your quinceañera. You’ve always wanted to feel that love he had for your siblings and other family members. When it was time for the grandfather dance you didn’t expect much, you thought he was going to be awkward like everyone else you danced with that night. But when he held your hand you felt your heart was full for the first time. He finally told you the words you’ve wanted to hear, “Estoy orgulloso de ti.” You had to look down at the dull gray floor, trying to hold back the tears that came rushing out like a water hose on full blast. You hugged him and felt his raspy thick beard on the side of your cheek. Him hugging you back felt as if all those disappointing birthdays and holidays were gone.

Even when you were younger you’ve been able to face a lot, like being touched inappropriately and being brave to tell people. Living in a community where poverty is a problem didn’t stop you from pursuing your dreams. You challenged all the stereotypes that portrayed your race as weak. Take good care of yourself and keep trying with your studies. “Ponte las pilas,” like your mom always says. Things may not go as planned but I want you to never give up. Stand for what you believe in, I know you will do something big. Maybe not now and maybe not everyone will agree with what you stand for, but keep going. I know you can do this! As long as you’re still breathing you will always be the girl who overcame all the obstacles that life threw at you.

Love, Slightly younger you

3 MI PEDACITO DE MEL Ó N Expressions of Family

SAID B.

Mi querido padre, que es a toda madre,

Being able to have you is a wonderful thing that life has allowed. Out of everything life will teach me, you will always be the source where most of my lessons come from. Sometimes my lessons come from paying attention to your actions. You get up at the break of dawn to go to work and come back before sunset to enjoy the rest of the day with Mom, my siblings and I. Sure, there are many people in the world who do incredible things, but the things you do make you my hero.

You help me find a path that is safe for me, my siblings, and Mom. I take in every single thing you tell me even though you think I don’t want to listen, and even though I show frustration from hearing the same talk over and over again. I am glad to hear your knowledge every single day. I am grateful for the fact that you keep me on the path to success of becoming someone in this world, such as working two jobs. I feel lucky to have you. I want to be just like you although you always tell me to do better than you. When I tell you I want to be like you when I grow up, I mean I want to have your personality. Jefe, you are strong, brave, resilient, and unbreakable. The fact that you have patience when trying to understand my math homework is what I want to get from you.

Everything I have I owe to you. Because of you I grew up and with an open mind. When you leave for work at night you always tell me, “Cuida a tu mamá, a tus hermanos y a la casa. Esta noche eres el hombre de la casa.” It was a special moment when you first told me you trusted me. I was confused because I was only eleven but still I felt like a big man. You taught me to learn from my mistakes. You told me that a man who hasn’t made a mistake in his life is not a man, and you are right. I am glad to call you my Jefe, my friend, and most importantly, my guide. Thank you for always being there for me.

Sincerely, Said B.

SU VIAJE AL FUTURO TONANTZIN

Dear Family,

You left my mamá when she needed you the most. Did you think about her? Did you feel the need to help her out? You never heard her cry that’s for sure. Do you remember kicking her out of your dead parents’ house? Did you think about the siblings she had to take care of? You probably did but didn’t do anything. She needed you! She wanted your help! But not anymore, she made it without you.

My mamá is a strong woman. She didn’t go to high school, she didn’t even finish middle school but she had a job. She learned to take care of her brothers and she learned how to provide food for them. She learned how to live without you. She lived in Mexico by the Popocatépetl. The families there are poor, she was poor, but she made it. Mexico was rough for her since she didn’t have family support. She decided to come to America and have una vida mejor, like how people in Mexico say it.

The journey to America wasn’t easy but she made it. They traveled through the desert and had no food. They had backpacks as heavy as a mountain, filled with water bottles. They camped out in nearby trees, careful to not make a sound because La Migra can come. La Migra was a word you did not want to hear. This meant your journey was not near and everything you’ve done to go to “The Land Of The Free” was unsuccessful. It took my mamá a while to get here but she did. And when she did, her sister left for Texas while my mama came to LA. Her last family member was gone.

Mamá, you worked a dead-end job and slept in a motel. Your fingers got tired from pushing the buttons of the machine. Your eyes got tired from inserting the threads into the needle everyday. But I’m proud of you, mamá. You made it.

When you met my dad you thought everything was perfect, but what you didn’t know was that the man I call Dad was about to create a mess for you. More trouble came to you. It was as if life decided that you didn’t have

enough problems already. When I was born, family thought I wasn’t my dad’s daughter but to our benefit I look just like him. Years later I gave you so many reasons to give up on us yet you didn’t. This is why I decided to write this letter about you. I love you so much. I might not show it but I do. I am proud to have your last name.

So to all of you in that family, I will never leave my mom like you did. I won’t give up on her like you did. She made it without you and I did too. We have each other. In some way you made me better and you made her better. Without you leaving her, she would never have been this strong. And now she is. So thank you, thank you so much.

Mamá, I love you so much. Never forget that.

Your daughter, Tonantzin

I ASPIRE TO INSPIRE BEFORE I EXPIRE

NIKKI HART

Dear Mom,

I can’t comprehend how someone like you can pour their entire soul into someone else and not ask for anything in return. I want to tell you I’m sorry; sorry for hurting you when I would get angry; sorry for making you cry; I’m sorry for when I told you I hated you. I saw your eyes begin to water and your tears threatening to fall. I was full of regret at that moment but instead of running towards you and saying sorry, I stormed out of the house. In the corner of my eye I saw you crumble to the floor right before I left.

Every time I look at you, you are so full of life and at times I envy you. Your chocolate brown eyes show how much life they have in them, while your honey colored hair drifts in the wind. You tend to be childish like when we are at Evergreen Park playing tag with my siblings, swinging yourself while smiling so brightly as if you had no care in the world.

But it’s just a mask to hide the grief you have bottled up over the years. I saw you cry on the night of my sister’s birthday. I thought you were this happy-go-lucky person but you aren’t. That night I understood that even the strongest people have their breaking point. I would always tell you how my day went and the negative parts would be left out. In your eyes I seemed like the brightest little girl who was ever brought into this world, but I know I won’t be able to fool you anymore.

You started getting suspicious of what was going on with me since I shut everyone out, including the family. I was terrified about you finding out the truth. Me trying to do harm was a stupid plan to finally set myself free from what was restraining my happiness. I live with a mental illness and this is my confession. I’ve got something called depression, Mom. Every time I would tell you, “Amaaa por favor no me dejes sola,” you would answer, “Corderito eres lo suficientemente mayor como para dormir solita no crees.” It wasn’t because I was scared of the dark. I was scared of the darkness of my mind.

I’m not strong enough to tell you I’m thankful for you giving birth to me, teaching me, being patient with me, and cheering for me. I’ve always wanted to tell you this because I know I make you worry and you get so angry that you cry. Sorry for not always realizing that my words come out too tough or cold. I know everything you do is to make me be a better person. If I make you feel uneasy, please tell me because I want to change this attitude. Even if it takes a while, I will accomplish it.

Please believe me and support me in everything I do. Promise me you will never stop believing in me. I don’t care if no one wants to trust me but I don’t want you to stop trusting me. You are my inspiration and strength as long as you are with me. Telling you and the rest of the family what I tried to do was the most difficult thing. I still remember your reaction when I told you. Your eyes widened as the words left my mouth. You were shaking as if your legs were going to give up on you. Dad’s reaction was also shocked. The young girl you had in front of you was a con artist. Your real daughter was always hiding between the shadows of the house. Her soul had left her a long time ago. She was a walking corpse that cowered from everybody, trying to avoid any interaction. She has always been your two-faced daughter, giving the fakest smile ever. Always lowering her eyes that hide her broken soul because they say looking into someone’s eyes tells you who they truly are.

I had finally realized all these toxins were doing me wrong. Over time I’ve ignored what others have to say about me. It made me a rose that grew from concrete because I am a beautiful yet very fragile creation that was put on this cruel vain world. Growing with these pernicious words is hard. I was on the edge of giving up but there was a voice in my head speaking to me, “Is it really worth it?” it spoke in a husky tone. “Is it worth making your mother and the rest of your family suffer because of your selfishness?” I asked you a simple yet meaningful question, while the clouds were closing the gates of heaven to indicate that God doesn’t want me to leave just yet. Like he was forbidding me to go to him. I asked you, “Qué harías si algún día desapareciera? Mi existencia fuera desterrada de la tuya?” You took a couple of seconds to think about your response as you were looking up at the sky as it started to rain. “Perdería la cabeza. Dios me bendijo con tres

hermosos hijos y planeo tenerlos en mi vida hasta el día que yo muera. Tienes que entender corderito que la vida es un regalo sagrado que Dios está dispuesto a darnos. Necesitas vivir tu vida y apreciar esos momentos especiales que llevarás a cabo a través de tu vida. Nunca me arrepentiré de tener alguno de ustedes.” Those words destroyed the barriers that were up for so long and keeping me safe. I thought you never knew. I thought I fooled you like everyone else. I learned that you can never push a mother away because a mother’s love is so heartwarming, capable of healing those who are broken, able to put the pieces back together. You made me look at the world in a completely different way.

Days passed by, weeks, months. A lot has happened ever since. I feel more alive. I threw the mask that hid the terrified girl. Now I’m enjoying life; feeling so light as if the wind can sweep me off my feet.

Mom, you are the most beautiful being put on this world. Your kindness helped another and now she will carry on your legacy and help others overcome the devil’s work. You’ve made a difference in my life. How do you tell the most important woman in your life what a difference she has made, or how her voice lifts your spirit and gives you courage to keep following your dreams? How do you find the words to thank her for the sacrifices she has made, for the ones you know about and the ones you’ve never been aware of? Or the countless times she put your needs before her own? There are no possible words I can express towards you, Mother. I hope that you know that I respect you, I thank you, and I love you.

Sincerely,

Your daughter, Nikki Hart

BITTERSWEET

JOSE L.

My cousin Donallise died about three years ago at nineteen years old. I was only twelve at the time. Forgetting how she died is neglectful-people usually expect others to remember how and when-but I always seem to forget the when.

She was diagnosed with lymphoma and my mom got the call right before we were getting in the car. I remember seeing her eyes tear up as she opened the car door. She was actually pregnant while she had cancer. At the time I didn’t know if it caused birth defects or not. Everyone expected her to graduate from high school and go off to college like her sisters.

It was very unexpected for everyone and we all didn’t know how to respond. I could tell I wasn’t in the same level of distress as my family. We went to Washington to visit her heartbroken family. As we entered the house we saw Donallise laying on the couch, bald with a white cover on top of her. Everyone knew she was pregnant and we worried about the health of the baby. This baby was going to be the last remaining thread of Donallise and no one wanted it to die along with her.

A few months later we went back to visit. Instead of going to Donallise’s house we went straight to the hospital. We could tell the cancer was getting to her. Her face was paler than before and it looked like she was going to die on the spot. I was at a loss for words because I was so shocked to see her in a hospital bed. I know it was dreadful for Donallise but I didn’t really appreciate the time I had with her, and it made me feel guilty. I should have spent more time with her and been there even when she wasn’t suffering.

She had her baby a few days prior and it was named Mckenzie. Mckenzie was perfectly fine, the cancer didn’t cause any birth defects. Later on we received a call informing us that Donallise had died. To put it into perspective, the days rolled on like dominos and I didn’t take the time to watch them fall. I wished I had spent more time with Donallise in order to create a better bond.

I have to make sure I appreciate the time I get with Mckenzie and everyone I know. If I don’t care for someone’s death and I don’t appreciate their life, then I don’t deserve to go to their funeral and mourn. So far I’ve had about three or four family members die of cancer, and I hope I’m not next. I can see how much effort people put in, just to make that person live another day. We need to learn to cherish each day because we might not get another. Every day is always more bitter than sweet for me, but for Donallise it was always sweet because she knew how to look at the bright side of things. Donallise always made jokes and tried to turn bad moments into the best. Even when she had cancer, she still laughed and made the most out of the time she had left.

THE MAN WHO CHANGED EVERYTHING “I HEARD SOMEONE SCREAMING SO I RAN”

JORGE H.

It was a nice Saturday morning in December with the wind blowing and children playing. Our neighborhood is suburban with a cul-de-sac and stairs at the end of the curb, leading up to the next street. To the right is my home and our small garden. I was outside kicking the ball around with my younger sister. There were times we would kick the ball and it would hit a window so we would run away.

My momma and other sister were cleaning. They were listening to some romantic songs by Jenni Rivera. They were cleaning our altar in our living room. We have a large table with baby Jesus and Virgin Mary statues. Pictures of Jesus and Mary hang on the wall with Christmas lights surrounding them. I was running around with my sister until I heard someone screaming so I ran into my home as fast as I could. All I saw was my mother crying into the phone, “¡Jorge! ¡Hábleme!” I responded, “¿Qué? ¿Qué necesitas?” I got no response.

I went to my older sister to see if she could explain what was happening but all I saw were tears in her eyes. She opened her mouth but nothing came out, as if someone was forcing her to shut up. She looked at me and started to walk toward me, only to push me out of her room. She locked me out without saying a single word. She had never done that to me, not even when she was angry at me. I felt like I did something so terrible, she would never ever talk to me. I went up to my mom again, she had just ended her phone conversation.

She walked towards me standing in our hallway. She bent down, put both her hands on top of my shoulders, and with grief explained, “Tu padre está muerto.” Instead of crying I smiled at her and went on with my day. To this day I wonder why I reacted like that. Some people would say I was too young but I was mature for my age. Maybe I reacted that way because I didn’t know what the hell was happening.

It was dark and I could feel the despair. That night our cousins, who I didn’t

know existed until a few hours earlier, took us to the funeral of our father. My sister and I sat in the back of the church. I felt nervous, anxious and cold. The service started and all I could think about was what happened today. I could hear people crying and some would even look toward the back just to see us. When it ended, family members came to grieve with us. I looked at these people and asked myself, “Who the heck are these people?” Before this whole event I thought my only family members were from my step-dad’s side; I didn’t know I had more family. What was funny was that they knew me and I didn’t.

After that whole sad day, I could hear my sister cry and talk to herself all night. I hugged her as I started to feel pain in my heart and cold all of a sudden, even though I was underneath the blankets. It felt like I could never be warm again, like the sun in my life had died or faded away. I didn’t cry for the stranger whose name I didn’t know, but for my sister. I knew there was nothing I could do to stop her crying.

The death not only changed me but my whole family. My mother who would always welcome me home would feel sad. She distracted herself by working more hours. I was once full of joy but I began to question my family. I lost trust in them and felt wounded. The family I once cherished fell down a hole of despair.

The person who changed the most was my older sister. After the loss she grew distant from the whole family. She wouldn’t talk to me or even say hi or goodnight. She would only come out to eat or clean the house. A few weeks later she started going through a Goth phase. She would cover one eye with her hair and covered her whole room in black. Her windows were covered with small blankets and she would cover her walls with sad quotes or Goth characters. I lost the only person I loved at that time and felt like I would never find her again. She would go through life with a frown and darkness as her only friend until it all changed again that Spring.

It was right after school. The sun was out and the house a mess. There were clothes on the floor and junk food wrappers everywhere. It was the children of the household’s job to clean the home. We would have to sweep, mop, wash dishes and clothes, and more. My sister was cleaning our room

when I began to feel sleepy so I took a nap. I woke up randomly and saw my older sister with tears in her eyes. At that moment I thought I was dreaming so I fell back asleep.

I woke up a few hours later around four in the morning and it was so dark outside. I heard my uncle who lived with us at the time, going to work. I asked him, “Where is my sister?” “She is in the hospital,” he tells me with a frustrated look. I didn’t know how to react; I felt like I was about to lose my world. Throughout the day I kept wondering if my sister was alive or not. Luckily my aunt was outside and they took her straight to the hospital.

I didn’t get to see her for about two weeks and when I saw her, she looked completely different. She had bags under her eyes and she was covering her wrists. Instead of welcoming her with a greeting, my family was arguing in front of her. Things started to change in our home.

My dad’s-our dad’s death affected everything in our life and lead to bad things. It changed everything and everyone. I went from a fun loving kid to a kid who had to grow up fast and hold all emotions because if I didn’t, I would not be considered a man. My sister, who once lived with a desire to change the world, became a person who didn’t care about life and still suffers from depression.

This story isn’t about depression or sadness; it’s about how one single event changed everything. I share this story so people could know how change could be bad. I want to share this story so people could know that even if I went through some traumatic event, I still have a desire to live.

NEVER BE ENOUGH M.S.A.

Dear Family,

I love you all, I really do and I know you love me, at least I think so. But you don’t watch what you say most of the time which affects my thoughts of who I think I should be. Like when my sister says, “You’re always messing things up!” or when we get mad at each other and say, “Well at least I’m not the ugly one!” Although we are a bit dysfunctional with all the drama at family parties, I’m grateful that I have a ‘happy’ family since some teens don’t have a mom or dad, or even a kind parent. You play around saying I can’t do anything right but you still ask me for favors. It messes with my head because now I can’t do anything without doubting myself and backing out. Now I put other people’s feelings before mine because I don’t think my feelings are important enough to anyone anymore.

I don’t want to blame it on you all. I know most of it is my fault because I’m this stupid girl who can’t do anything right. I can’t speak the right Spanish words in a particular moment and I can never look in a mirror without wanting to look away or cover myself up. I don’t know if you raised this girl. This girl who can’t look others in the eye for more than three seconds because she thinks they might be judging her. If I don’t look you in the eye, it’s my own insecurities telling me to look away. I only cry when something really hurts inside. Every year has messed me up because of heartbreaks, bullying and insults.

Now I can’t love anyone without letting them go. Knowing I’m not this pretty perfect person like them. When I love someone I feel like letting them go. Not because I’m scared of getting hurt—I’m willing to get hurt for someone if I love them that much—but because I’m afraid that I’ll hurt that special someone by not being enough. If I can’t do something right, how am I good enough to love someone the way they are supposed to be loved? Mom, Dad, you don’t even know I’m gay! I keep wanting to tell you but I have fear what could happen because you can’t keep your mouths shut. I’m not trying to be harsh. I get it, you want to have a daughter who can give you proper grandkids but I don’t want to do that with a man. I just

want to come home and be able to tell you that I love this beautiful girl who makes my day with just a smile.

These dumb thoughts just lead back to my insecurities about not being good enough. You all make fun of me and joke around but I take everything to heart. Just like I do with all the other judgemental comments I get from other people. When people try to change me I think, “What’s wrong with me?” I’m pleading for the universe to tell me and I expect it to just say, “Everything.”

I know I sound depressing, but I’m trying. I’m trying by telling myself that I deserve to be complimented. By saying, “Thank you” when I get complimented instead of rambling about all the flaws I have. I’m trying to push out all these negative thoughts. I’m trying to be strong for my friends who sometimes have the same thoughts as me. Maybe I can save them like how I want to be saved. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and say I’m beautiful instead of immediately covering myself up. I just want to forget about all of this. I want to be this perfect idea of a person but I’m not. I’m trying to work with that and I know I am because I’m still here. I know this doesn’t sound like I love myself, I don’t but I’m working on it.

My friends are my support system when we talk because we all have insecurities. With them, I’m not really the odd one out. I regret everything I haven’t done because I was holding myself back and thinking I wasn’t enough. Namely, after telling someone I love them. Instead I tell myself I don’t deserve them and I can’t love them right. I’ll try to push my insecurities aside, trying for once, risking everything for a bit of happiness. I just want to love someone who can love me back the same way. I want to hold someone and never let them go, protecting them from every negative thing in the world instead of trying to protect them from who I am. I want to be with someone and not constantly worry if they are here because they feel bad for me. I want to be better and I know in time, maybe I will love myself. Maybe I will get my happy ending where I don’t have to worry about every single thing falling apart because of my faults.

I love you all so much and even if I don’t say it, I will always love you. I hate that you joke around too much. Your words are like knives to my heart even

if that isn’t your intention. I’m sorry; sorry that I´m hard to love; sorry that I take things too seriously; sorry that I can’t do everything right. Sorry that I´m this stupid mess of a person. I’m trying more and I swear I’ll learn. Please be careful with what you say because it hurts sometimes. This isn’t hopeful at all, I know that, but I know that if try hard enough, I can finally be at peace with myself and who I am. Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m still trying and that’s all I’ll ever do.

Sincerely,

M.S.A.

MEMORIES I’LL CHERISH FOREVER SAMANTHA C.

Dear Grandma,

I want to write this letter to you because I want you to remember I will always thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Grandma, I’m truly thankful for you and the huge impact you’ve made in my life. There is no other beautiful soul on Earth that will make such a huge impact like you did. We have funny, emotional, and exciting memories that will never get old.

I remember when I was in first grade. Every morning I would get dropped off at your house. You would make me rice and eggs with a side of milk. You would always sing to me and make jokes. I remember the time you gave me a cup of milk and as soon as you were about to place the carton back in the fridge I’d say, “Wait! I want more,” then you’d say, “What, you already finished it!” I would laugh and we kept doing it a couple more times. I just want to let you know how much those little moments meant to me.

On July 23, 2013, you were not feeling well so we called 911. As they rushed you to the hospital, our family followed. As we all waited in the waiting room to hear what was wrong, we tried to stay strong and positive for you. The doctor told us you were suffering from pneumonia. All of us went to see you. You were lying on the hospital bed, looking pale. Around 1:30AM we left the hospital to give you some rest. On July 24, 2013, we met up at your house and as we were getting ready to leave my mom got a call from the hospital saying you had passed away. Everyone started to cry. We couldn’t believe you were gone forever, and we were not there to say goodbye. We rushed to the hospital to see you. As I walked into the freezing cold room, there you were with a tube down your throat, looking pale. I reached out to grab your hand as tears ran down my face. In that moment my heart shattered to pieces because I knew I had lost a huge part of me. I was only ten years old. You meant so much to me and I was afraid to lose you; I had no idea how to deal with it. As days, weeks, months, and years passed, it only got harder for me to realize you were never coming back. Today, May 8, 2018, marks five years and eight days since you’ve been

gone. I still think about you everyday. In loving memory of you, every month I visit and bring you flowers to remind you that you are still loved.

I wanted to let you know that all otheur memories we shared will forever be my favorite! My all-time favorite memory was when I was four yearsold and you took me to Disneyland to spend quality time together. I remember that day I was beyond excited to take a picture with Winnie the Pooh. I especially want to thank you for sticking by my side to make sure I was okay and had the best childhood. If I ever needed or wanted something, you were always there to give it to me. I appreciate you and all the hardships you helped me overcome. I had always planned to somehow repay you for giving me the best childhood. Unfortunately I can’t anymore. I will always love you, Grandma, forever and always. Just remember it’s not a goodbye it’s, “See you later.”

Love always, Samantha C.

DON’T LET THE EVIL VILLAIN DESTROY THE PRINCESS DENISE T.

Ever since I was a little girl you made me so happy. How can I forget when my brother and I would fight over who slept on the bed alone and who slept on the floor with you. Sleeping alone was scary, it felt like being in a haunted house. Sleeping on the floor with you, I knew I had someone protecting me. When you and Mom separated, my heart fell apart and I felt lonely. I would share something with Mom but I had to wait longer to share it to you. I’m really sensitive when I think of not having my parents together. I know it happened for a reason but I was too attached to the family as we were.

After the divorce you and Mom were like best friends, but I know it was only because of my brother and I. We would still go out together but it wasn’t the same. I remember being really sad because you left to Mexico for almost two months. You came back overjoyed but to this day I question if it was from what you experienced in Mexico or the excitement of seeing your children again. When I saw you again I was really happy knowing I would finally be with my dad again! A week later after telling Mom, you told me and my brother about your girlfriend in Mexico. I acted happy-I was happy for you-you found the person you would share your life with. I was sad knowing that because you found your lover, there wasn’t going to be any chance of me seeing you and Mom together like when I was younger. I remember telling Mom how I felt and she told me to not be sad. She shared that she found someone else too and my world was completely broken, knowing that my parents would no longer be able to have something. Being only six years old, I was really sad like any other kid my age. I would forget about it by going to the park, taking a nap, or eating candy. I forgot about everything for months until the day came.

I met your girlfriend. I liked her but I had that pain in me saying, “Why did you come into my dad’s life?” Time passed and it was my birthday. I spent it in Mexico and I would cry at night from missing my mom so much. She was in Boyle Heights. I was waiting and counting down the days until I could see her. Years passed. Both you and Mom had more kids, but not together. Time passed even more, and you finally were able to bring

your girlfriend to Los Angeles. I always felt like a ball going back and forth from your’s and Mom’s house. I was able to understand everything but what hurt me was seeing other families together. I knew families weren’t perfect, but seeing my family separate and turn into two other families was hard for me as a little girl. You would always tell me, “Although you have sisters you will always be my little princess.” You saying that was so special, because I knew that you would always be there for me… but was I wrong?

I turned twelve and you treated me differently from my brother. It was as if you liked him better than me. Just because I am a girl doesn’t mean I deserved to be grounded over little things like wearing shorts or asking to go to the beach with my tia. I wasn’t able to do fun stuff like go to the pool with family. I had to wear tights and long sleeves. I knew you were being overprotective. Sometimes I think it was because I was your first girl, but your overprotectiveness was passing limits. My brother would do worse and he would just get a talk. My mom would always tell me, “Don’t let the evil villain destroy the princess.” She was always supportive of my actions but you would doubt me and I don’t know why.

Now that I’m fourteen things have changed. You started planning a wedding instead of my quinceanera. I wanted to start planning it because it was my one and only dream since I was a little girl. I thought you always wanted to see your little princess shining on her day, but I guess not. My dress was already ordered but you avoided planning the rest. You were planning your wedding instead. You told me it was because there was not enough money for my quinceanera. I just didn’t understand how you knew my quinceanera was coming yet you still decided to get married and have the courage to tell me it was money-wise. I’m only a Quinceañera once.

On your wedding day you seemed so excited at church, you even forgot about my brother and I. You even cried when you saw your bride walking down that aisle. We were looking for you everywhere in the house until my tio came for us. We got to the party and it was really organized. You had tamborazo-that must have all cost lost of money-and the lady who organized the party and fruit table must have charged you a lot. If you truly love your wife you should’ve known you were going to last longer with her.

I’m turning fifteen in just a few days and I won’t be your little princess, stunning on her day because my day won’t be celebrated how our culture does it. My Mexican culture is the best. Quinceañeras are celebrated with a father and daughter dance and a moment to say special things to each other. You can have as many padrinos as you want but the most important one is the one who takes you in their hands to church. I always wanted a quinceañera because it represents me becoming a young woman. A girl is celebrated on her fifteenth birthday because that’s when your life starts changing and you become more independent. It hurts me to say we are no longer close. It hurts me when you say I’m selfish. At least I can say you were always a good father figure. I love you, Dad but it does hurt me everyday. I miss you and my whole family. It’s painful but don’t forget, I’ll always be your daughter.

Can I say how much I appreciate my mother? She is my best friend. I have gone through having best girl friends. You think it will last but never have trust in anyone. Honestly, sometimes you can’t even trust yourself. We trust ourselves and could end up letting ourselves down but at the end of the day it’s you and only you. My mom tells me everything. There are many things I trust her with but there are little things I can’t trust her with because it could be really personal. My mom’s support has been very uplifting. She is my world and universe. The only reason why I will celebrate my quinceañera is because my mom didn’t want to see my love for my Mexican culture fall apart. She knew that it’s been a dream of mine. I’m grateful for my mom. She had me at the age of eighteen on the day of her graduation and she saw me as the best gift. I know she struggles with money but my mom always kept me happy. Although I would be in pain if something would ever happen to my mom, I will always remember her words, “Mama raised an independent lady. Mama will always look down on you.” Te amo, Papá y Mamá. You will forever be in my heart and my number one’s no matter what. My love for both of you will always be there.

Dad, I know you caused me pain but I personally believe it’s never hard to say sorry. But when you say sorry, you don’t show that you honestly mean it. You would say say sorry but still act rude to me, but it wont affect me. I’ll always remember, “Don’t let the evil villain destroy the princess!”

Sincerely,

Denise T.

AS Í ES LA VIDA

AYLA J.

Why am I here? A question I have asked myself time and time again. Through all the birthdays, Father’s Days, Christmases, I felt like I was missing a piece of me. Nights were spent crying and wondering if I was enough, or if I was just not worth fighting for. My life has not been easy to say the least. I know you’re probably thinking, “Oh God! Another clichèd letter talking about how sad and difficult their life has been!” Well this letter, although clichè, is going to help me vent and hopefully help someone else not feel so alone.

Let’s start at the beginning. When my mom was pregnant with me, she and my father were together but had many problems. Now that I am grown, my mom has revealed some of the things my father has done. He was never there for her when she was pregnant, he came home late, left early for “work,” and would spend all their money, leaving little for the essentials I needed as a baby. Her jewelry began to go missing; golden rings, earrings, diamond necklaces. It wasn’t until mi medalla de bautismo went missing that she finally had enough and confronted my dad. It turns out he had been pawning the expensive stuff we owned to get money for who-knowswhat. After he confessed, my mom made him get my medalla back. She knew it was too late for all the other expensive jewelry.

This was one of the first major fights they had and ultimately, I believe it was one of the fights that lead to their separation. After this they remained together until I was three. Although I was young I can remember the last fight they had. I was sitting in the room when my mom walked in crying. Right behind her my dad walked in and told me to get out and go to my grandma’s room. I stayed outside the door and heard stuff being thrown, yelling, and the sounds of my mom crying. I remember my dad walking out the room and out the door. It turns out he had been cheating and taking all that money for his other woman.

Once my dad left I didn’t hear from him for about seven years. No visits, not even a, “Happy birthday.” During this time my mom struggled because she was now feeding four people all by herself while dealing with

depression. On top of that she had rent, bills, and student loans to pay. When I was seven my mom was back on her feet, working hard while my grandma took care of me.

My mom had managed to find my father’s phone number. She told me I could call him to say, “Happy birthday” so I did. I had a little sliver of hope that I might be able to salvage the relationship with my dad. The phone rang and he picked up. In the background I heard kids laughing and him talking to people-it sounded like a party. I wished him happy birthday and he asked,“Who is this?”All I could say was, “Tu hija” as tears began to creep into my eyes. I held them back, not wanting to cry in front of my mom. He sounded shocked as he said okay and that he was really busy and had to get back to work. I knew he was lying. This was one of the first nights I cried myself to sleep. All hope was gone after that phone call. I felt betrayed and heartbroken by my own father.

A few months went by and I was about to turn eight. I was asking my mom about my dad. She told me my dad had started a new family with the woman he left us for. My little eight-year-old brain tried to put the pieces together and all I could think was that I had not been a good daughter. So he felt the need to start over and get a better family. This was when the bad thoughts began.

A few more years went by and I was ten. My mom started over with a new man and had a daughter with him. Over this summer, my dad came and I was so happy to see him again. I thought I would finally be able to have a dad like my sister did but I was wrong. He came by with some new shoes and school supplies, as if all that could make up for not being around for the past seven years. He came by more often and took me to see my half-siblings a few times.

Eventually he disappeared again and I haven’t seen him in four years. I am now fourteen, almost fifteen. I understand everything he did and no longer consider him a dad. He was never there for me, he obviously never cared about my mom and I so why should I care for him, right? A father is supposed to love and protect his child. He wasn’t there to hold me all those nights I spent crying. He wasn’t there for me the first time I was

heartbroken by a guy. He wasn’t there when I got so depressed I didn’t eat for weeks. But you know who was there for me? My mom and grandma.

My mom did her best to make sure all those birthdays and Father’s Days at school went smoothly and I was happy. When it was Father’s Day and I was crying about not wanting to go to school, she would let me take the day off and that day would just be for the two of us. Father’s Day became Mommy and Me Day, and I couldn’t have asked for anything better. I have a birthday cake every year and a whole family to celebrate with. We all lean on each other if we need to. My grandma raised me like I was her own. My mom was busy working so we could keep our apartment and have food to eat. My grandma fed me, bathed me, and was there for me. In school I didn’t have many friends so my grandma became my best friend. We played around, she bought me treats, and told me stories. She helped me prepare for the world ahead. She helped me transition from a girl who grew up too quickly, to a young lady who was mature and ready to take on the world. My grandma came from a life of domestic abuse by her family and husband; but she pulled through, kept going, and pursued a better life for her family.

Growing up I always knew my mom and grandma were hardworking and amazing women. I am grateful to be blessed with these women in my life. I am now able to appreciate all the positive things that have come out of this life. I am able to be happy and enjoy life. Even though I have that missing piece of my heart that my dad took when he left, my mom and grandma are the ones who keep it together and help me not break down even when things get bad.

MY FATHER AND I: DIFFICULT RELATIONSHIP DANIEL C.

Something I will tell you is that I hate my father. He believes my siblings over me. My father resents me because I have convinced my brother to betray my father’s dream of making us soccer players. Instead I convinced them to follow their passion. Because of this, my father doesn’t want to listen to anything I have to say and it frustrates me. My father made my whole family soccer players and ever since I told him I didn’t want to be one, he has not been paying as much attention to me or my siblings. Once, my brother came home high and asked me if it was noticeable that he smoked. He smelled like weed but when my parents talked to him they didn’t even pay attention.

My father has ignored me every year but in these past three years he has been paying attention to me more. Because of that I am pleased that he has changed about his children. What still frustrates me is how he still believes whatever my siblings say about me yet they never get in trouble. Even when my father does see them do something bad, he ignores it but when he sees me do something bad, he gets mad. I need my father to understand me and hear what I have to say.

I want my father to support me with anything I want to do and the choices I make even though they might be tough or easy. I want my father to not pick favorites because he should treat us all the same. However, my father will never pay attention to us at all. I want him to get involved in our lives, not isolate himself from us. I want my father to be there when we need him the most. I want my family to stop fighting so when we grow up, we will be able to help each other through tough times and when we need each other the most.

BETRAYAL AND RELIEF L.A.

Dear Dad,

Hey, it’s your daughter. You shaped me to be the mentally strong, selfconfident womyn I am right now. I know that might sound like a good thing, it kind of is because I am strong. It kind of isn’t because of what you did to shape me to be a strong womyn. You taught me that even the closest person could hurt you in the worst possible way. I didn’t think a dad can make his daughter cry so much. Now I am careful of whom I choose to trust and love because I don’t want to be crying for days, wondering why I wasn’t good enough again.

I didn’t really know who you were until the sixth grade. When I was younger you were never there and I grew up with the thought that all the men who supported me were my dads. I’m pretty sure you know them because you’ve met them all. One is my grandpa, my nino, and my uncles. You’re probably wondering why I would think it’s possible to have more than one dad. As I grew older I saw other families with just one dad but I always thought I was the lucky one to have more. I had a dad for everything, I had one to take me to my basketball games, one to take me to amusement parks, one to take me out to eat when I got good grades in school, and one to take me to look at puppies because I always loved going to PetSmart to play with them. I started realizing I didn’t look like the men in my life and I wondered why.

I got a phone call when I was in fifth grade. I don’t know how but you did it, you got my number. I can never forget the day you called me and told me you were my dad. It started as a nice sunny day like any other day. I got home from school and my mom said, “Someone wants to talk to you” so I grabbed the phone. All I heard was, “ Hi pretty princess, it’s your dad. I would like to meet you.” I felt the room get darker and I felt my heart drop. The truth soon came out and I didn’t think it would be such a horrible thing until I found out the actual truth. You had left my mom to find another womyn to have babies with. When I was younger I didn’t see it as a problem, I was just excited to have younger siblings.

Anyway, the day we met up I was so excited to meet you. It was a nice sunny afternoon but when I looked at my mom before I left she had a scared look on her face. I just thought she was going to miss having me around all day. As soon as I saw you everything made sense. I looked exactly like you, the green eyes, the light hair; we even had the same skin tone. I know I was just a sixth grader but I knew many things. I loved that we got closer. You started to pick me up from school and on the weekends to get ice cream. It finally felt like I had one dad. Of course I didn’t forget about the other men in my life who pretty much raised me and helped me get through what you had put me through.

Seventh grade was quite a year for me and you know exactly why. I fell into a depression because of what you did; I didn’t feel like a human anymore, it’s like you took my soul right out of me. You left me in the worst way possible. You made me feel like I was just a helpless womyn in society. You made me feel like I didn’t belong in this world. I got all the help I needed, therapy and community circles. Now I thank you. In a way you shaped me to be a mentally strong, confident, young womyn. I now know there is a huge future planned for me. I’m going to graduate high school. I’m going to Columbia University or New York University and I am going to graduate college with a degree in Cardiothoracic Surgery. I am going to prove you wrong and do all the things you told me I couldn’t do.

Sincerely,

Your Daughter L.A.

SISTERS BY CHANCE, FRIENDS BY CHOICE

KING LORI

Dear Sis,

I admire you so much for always being the number one person I can go to about anything that’s on my mind. Although I may not show it at times, I do care. You set a good example with everything you’re accomplishing in school and how you’re always taking care of me. I know I slip up now and then, but you’ve taught me everything I need to know about school, friends, guys-ugh!

I like our missions day or night; eating late nights at taco trucks in East LA; having coffee trips to Tierra Mia and Starbucks; and getting our eyebrows done in Montebello. I always say I’m going to live there because of all the nice two-story houses with big gates. I know we fight a lot, but we eventually get over it. I have been following your steps since day one. I’ll always need you.

When that mistake was made you came up to me and hugged me. You talked to me about how you felt but I didn’t. The wall I built up was strong. I get so caught up with my own emotions I blank out. I’d rather keep it to myself than tell anyone, which I know only ends up hurting me in the long run. The mistake I made still hits me very hard everyday; I can’t get over it and I always feel so alone. That’s one of the reasons I always want to leave the house with you, to go somewhere, or text you as soon as youget off work.

You’ve shaped the way I am today. You’re smart, caring, powerful, ambitious, generous, and adventurous. As cheesy as it sounds coming from me, you’re beautiful. I like you as a person and obviously as my sister. With your plain shirt, denim pants, and glasses. Oh, and let’s not forget the little work tag. I can’t wait for this summer and all the things that will come our way.

All

Love, King Lori

A

STRONG WOMAN JUST LIKE MOM STEPHANIE V.

Dear Mom,

I remember when it was my birthday and we were very excited. Back then you had no health problems. We went to the buffet where some walls were red, others were blue, others were purple. It was such a huge place. As I came back to the table from getting my food, I realized that my plate only contained rice and seafood like shrimp, fish, clams ,crab. The food tasted so amazing. I ate more than two plates plus the dessert, and I’m not the type of person to eat a lot. We ate as much as we could which is the reason why I love the buffet.

We were in the car ready to go somewhere else when suddenly you told Dad to take you to the hospital. You told him your tongue was swelling and you couldn’t breathe so we rushed over. At the hospital it smelled and looked super clean, just like every hospital. The doctor told us, “Unfortunately we will have to keep her here for about two weeks. Everything will be fine,” he said in his deep, serious voice. He told us we brought you right on time, you were about to have a heart attack. My sisters and I started crying because we were so scared.

My sisters and I decided to do something to help. Everyday for about two weeks we would clean the house; cook for Dad when he would get home from work; and try to contact you as much as we could to see if you were okay. It really sucked that we couldn’t see you; the doctors didn’t allow it and I never understood why. It reminded me of the time Dad was on the verge of dying and no doctor knew how to treat him, and we had to be away from him. Being away from you both while you were sick was the worst feeling. We were worried so much more because all the doctor said was, “Everything will be fine, don’t worry too much.” He didn’t let us know what was actually going on but we all hoped he was telling the truth.

After witnessing the problems you have gone through, I realized I am the type of person who thinks about worst case scenarios and I need to change that. I need to think positively and not worry about things I shouldn’t be. I

never think about the pros in a problem, just the cons. If I ever feel like that again I should talk to someone. When I found out what happened with Dad not being treated because all the doctors were unsure about what to do, I thought I was going to lose him, just like how I started to think I was going to lose you. It breaks my heart knowing both my parents went through something like that. Thankfully we found a doctor who was able to treat Dad, and you were also treated very well. I missed you both so much.

Two weeks after what happened with you, Dad took us to my aunt’s house. We were not sure why until we saw you come in through the door. My sister and I rushed to you and hugged you; we were glad you were okay. Although you just came out of the hospital you tried your best to be strong. You still cooked for us when you should’ve been getting rest. You also wanted to go out to spend time with the family. You are so strong.

In that moment, I realized how much I care about you even though I don’t show it. I cannot imagine being without a parent. You still have heart problems, high blood pressure, and high cholesterol, but you treat it well and I am happy that you are taking care of yourself. We need you and Dad. Our worst fear is losing you. There are many things I wish I told you about how I felt when you were in that situation, but I don’t know why I didn’t. You are such a strong woman.

Love, Stephanie V.

DECEMBER 18, 2016

LUNA N.

I was loved and cared for by my mom. As a little girl I never thought about losing someone I loved. I never imagined seeing her leave this world. It was Sunday, December 18, 2016 at 3:00 AM. My mom wasn’t breathing and everyone started to panic. I called 911 and told them what was happening. Then I gave the phone to my sister and ran downstairs to wait for the ambulance. It was quiet and as cold as snow. I didn’t know what was happening upstairs because I didn’t want to see what was happening to my mom. As soon as the paramedics came, they took her and my dad went with them. My whole family was crying. It was around 4:30 AM when my dad came back from the hospital and told us our mom died of a heart attack. It was the most painful day of my life. Every time I hear an ambulance I get a flashback that I want to forget. My life had suddenly changed after that.

“Looney Luna, you’re not going to school today. So make sure to hide, and hide all your things so your brother and sister won’t find out you didn’t go to school!” said my mom as she sat down watching TV. I was happy about not going to school. She had the whole day planned to spend time with me. We would usually go to the store then out to eat. She was really tall, I think she was 5’11. My mom just wanted her kids to be happy. She was a good baker and a cook. Every time I make cookies I think of her and the first time I ever made cookies from scratch. She was supportive with us in school and other things. She was the best mom that anyone could have had.

It really hurts that she’s not here with us. I try not to think about what happened in the past and I try to think about the future instead. But when I think about her I cry alone in my bed where no one can see me. When I have a problem I don’t tell my dad or my aunt, I usually tell my cousin Ramona who is a year older than me. I tell her about how I feel or what happens in my life. She’s helped me get through my problems by distracting me and making me laugh. One time she turned off all the lights in her living room and put mattresses on top of each other to make a stage for her to sing. As weird as it may sound, she sang the song, “Blood” by My Chemical Romance which made me cringe. I’m just really thankful to have her in my life. Although my mom is not with me anymore, there is not a day that goes by without thinking about her.

THE LIMIT IS YOUR IMAGINATION

JEOVANIE V.

Dear Future Me,

I was in middle school, it was around the time my sister was in high school. During this time my parents had high expectations for my sister to go to a university. I didn’t have much of an idea what was happening with them because I was struggling in school. I always saw my sister as an idol because at home she was the closest relative who understood me. She could recognize when I had a something to hide and helped me persevere through my problems. She helped me on my work and projects. She worked with me during late nights, and most of all she was my sister.

I remember it clearly: My parents were having a discussion with my sister in our room. I saw her crying but I didn’t really understand what was happening. Later on I found out my sister was failing her last year of school. She was one of those students who didn’t do the work. Later on my parents dropped her off at work and I remember her telling me she was going to stay over at her friend’s house. My parents knew she was changing into a new person, a person my parents didn’t want her to become. My sister said goodbye and exited the car. My dad then became an emotional wreck, crying tears of regret and disgrace knowing he lost his daughter, his little girl.

A few days later I pieced everything together and realized what was happening. My idol was gone, now living with her boyfriend, and I was left alone. My parents didn’t give me much attention at this time so I sat there unnoticed. I felt alone, forgotten, and helpless. I didn’t really have much to focus on and the demons inside were taking over me. But there is always hope for a cure for disease.

I remember a journal my teachers gave to my whole class. I didn’t really think about it until the next day, one of the teachers said we can write how we feel inside. “How can one write about their feelings if there is nothing to talk about?” So I just drew in the journal. The more I drew, the better I was feeling. When I was drawing my head was somewhere else, a place

where no rules applied, a place I can control, a place where no one can change who I am: that place was my imagination. I realized that I found my cure to my problems. My therapy is drawing, creating worlds, people, and more. I found a place where I can be myself. Drawing now gives me a new perspective of the world that surrounds me.

My sister kept coming back, sending my mom small messages, and coming by the house once in awhile. She abandoned the house to live a better life but she still comes back. With all the problems in the world like racism, deportation, discrimination, and more, I see it’s not just us who have problems- it’s everyone. Among many of my classmates, I can say I am not the only one who has suffered through issues in life. I see that everyone has their own. Most of us tend to hide our problems but because memories are not just a thing of the past, our problems still stay with us. I try to forget what happened but no matter what there is always something in me that just won’t let that go.

I hope you can understand me. I hope I can have trust in you. When I go to my own world I imagine it as reality. I imagine a place with no walls and no discrimination at all. I imagine a place where anyone can be anything. I imagine a place where anyone can be free. I imagine a place where the limit is your imagination.

UNTITLED

BRYANT L.

A really significant moment in my life was when my mom and dad got divorced when I was just one year old. As a child, it didn’t really affect me but as I grew up I saw the daily struggles and sacrifices my mom had to go through. She would be exhausted from having worked a twelve-hour shift. It became more difficult to see my mom in that position. I was just a kid and there was nothing I could do to help. For most of my childhood I never really thought about my father but was always curious about what it was like to have someone besides my mom who would share their life with me. Even if I only saw my father during the weekends with my siblings it didn’t feel like he was there for me.

His absence affected me in a way that I never really felt anything when he left. At the time I was too young to feel any type of emotion and as I got older I never really missed him because I never really knew him. I felt as if I was left out because everyone had a dad and I was the only kid who had one parent doing both jobs. Despite not having a father figure in my life, I still had a brother as the male figure. He taught me the skills and knowledge that my father couldn’t.

Ever since I was young, my brother was the one I looked up to. He made it clear I could go to him for anything that I couldn’t go to Mom about. He showed me many things like how to be responsible for my actions. But he wasn’t always like that. It took him a long time before stepping up to become the male figure in my life today. In his teenage years he and my mom constantly got into arguments. Since my brother grew up knowing my father more than me, his disappearance from our lives affected him more. I remember seeing my brother get in trouble for hanging out with the wrong people. Seeing him like that as a kid was bad because he was the only other male figure in my family to look up to. When he realized what he was doing he changed his path and stepped up. For him this was a huge commitment because he was only a seventeen year-old kid who didn’t see the world from the perspective of a young adult. My brother wanted to emancipate himself from the bad influences around him. He did this to set a better example for me.

He was my example for doing homework and taking out the trash, to respect my elders and learn how to be a gentleman. When I was in the eighth grade and my baby brother was brought home from the hospital I had never dealt with any kids, let alone watch one grow up. I would now know how my siblings felt as I grew up and they had to do to help my mom out. I remember clearly, everyday I waited for my sister to pick me up. I waited under a shady tree while the sun was beating down hard. When everyone was gone and the teachers headed back inside, from a distance I would see my sister speeding up while the big metal gate screeched as it closed.

I would never say that my parents’ divorce affected my education. In fact, it made me want to do better. It pushed me to do better because my mom sacrificed and worked every day to support my siblings and I. She tells me every day, “Héchale ganas en la escuela.” It would be a waste if I threw away the chance she worked so hard to provide me with. Which is why every day I try my best to push my limits whether it be in school or out of school. I work hard so that one day I will be able to support my mom just as she has done for me. I remember exactly how proud my family was as I walked across the stage during culmination. I felt nervous and relieved knowing that all my hard work finally paid off. I have the skills and knowledge that my siblings taught me to be prepared for the challenges that lie ahead. Throughout all the obstacles and stops along the way, my family would be there for me.

NOT THE PERFECT FAMILY

J.P.

I was on the couch using my phone and my brother was using my dad’s phone to watch YouTube videos. He left the phone next to me and I started snooping around. There was a woman texting him, and I was reading some of the messages. They said, “Meet up?” or “I miss you. I wanna see you.” I kept scrolling and I saw pictures of them together. He had her on every social media. No one ever expected that my dad would cheat- at least that’s what I thought.

When I found this I showed it to my mom because I didn’t really understand Spanish. She got her phone and took pictures of their conversations. This was the first time I caught my dad cheating on my mom. There was another time he was on the phone with a lady and I told my mom about it. To my surprise, she didn’t do anything. I got mad at her because she wouldn’t talk to him about it. I thought, “Wow, she doesn’t even know or she doesn’t want to admit to herself that he’s not faithful.” It wasn’t fair for my mom because she had to put up with my siblings and I. She didn’t work; she was a stay at home mom. My mom would look for jobs but they were short-term jobs that only lasted about two or three months and they wouldn’t call her back. He would stay quiet if I mentioned him cheating on my mom.

I would fight a lot with my dad and it wasn’t good. I would talk back to him, ignore him, stay in my room and ignore everybody around me at home. I would mess up in school and sleep late. I didn’t do well in middle school. Many people didn’t understand this and some did. Those who understood would tell me, “I know how you feel,” or “ I know what you’re going through,” but I felt like they only pitied me.

Ever since I found out my dad was cheating I couldn’t look at him the same way I did when I was younger. I wouldn’t do well in my classes during middle school. Sometimes I would cry myself to sleep knowing I might lose my family. When I was younger I would think we were the perfect family but in reality no one is perfect. My idea of my own perfect family was lost.

I blame my dad for cheating. It’s his fault, knowing he had a wife at home and children to take care of. His excuses to spend time with women were, “I’m going to a friend’s house to watch the game,” or “My friend invited me to go somewhere.” He would just lie and lie all the time. I hated my dad for doing something he knew he shouldn’t do. I don’t see him the way I used to see him and I don’t see guys the same because men cheat and yes, women cheat too.

It sometimes hurts when I think about it. Unfortunately, it is what it is. It is his decision to either cheat on my mom or stop, and get on the right track with my mom and siblings. Now I try to have better grades than I did in middle school. My priorities are school and family. I’m really doing my best so I can be the first person in my family to go to college and make my family proud. Although it was hard for me, I forgave my dad because most of my family members told me I needed to. I have learned that a man should never be the center of your universe.

BOGO SIPDA: I MISS YOU MONIQUE

N.

“Breathe. In. Out. Steady. You’re going to get through this, Mom.” You are the strongest person I’ve ever had in my life. You’re always there for me when I’m sick, tired, sad, or just having a bad day. We’ve had our fair share of arguments and fights but I still love you through it all. You’ve always been independent and you never needed anyone to help you, but you need me now. You need your family to help you. I know it must have been hard to tell us about your eye condition. I can never say I know what you’re going through because I can’t- no one can. Even if someone else has the same genetic disability as you, they can never say they know what you’re going through because everyone is different. I heard you cry at night when you told Dad about it. I knew about it before you decided to tell us. I shouldn’t have been awake but I was texting a friend. I was hoping that I heard it wrong and that you were misdiagnosed. I heard your sobs from down the hall. It hurt me to hear you in such a vulnerable state. The next day when you told me about your eyes I felt as though the walls of my heart caved in and my heart stopped. I don’t remember if I cried in front of you but I cried.

Sometimes I pretend you’re fine because I’m afraid of your vision changing so quickly. I’m scared to see the light of hope fading from those chocolate eyes of yours. Maybe if I pretend, everything will be okay. Maybe you’re fine and things can go back to normal. I wish things could go back to normal but I guess that’s just how life is. We think everything is fine until it’s not. I know you wish for the same things because you tell me this. You probably don’t know this but I cried night after night for weeks. I was scared, I’m still scared. Sleepless nights filled with tears made the winter colder than it already was.

I’m sorry I give you a hard time and for being bratty sometimes. I’m sorry I can’t be as big of a help that I want to be. I’m sorry for those bratty moments when I would be sitting on the couch watching TV when you told me to do the dishes or clean the kitchen. I’m sorry for making you sad and worried about me when I was bullied and turned to inflicting pain on my body, but I’m still breathing. I’m still breathing on my own, my head’s

above the rain and roses.

You need me and I have to make my way to you in all this chaotic mess. I was close to finding my mom, the mom I know and love, then you got hit by a car. You were in the middle of the street and the lady in the car took a wide turn. I didn’t just lose Christmas presents- that didn’t matter to me- I lost even more of my mom. You had a couple disks out of place in your back and two of them were torn. I remember calling you so many times. When Dad finally got home around 8:00 PM we got the call from you. I’ve never seen so much fear in his eyes. He left me in charge of taking care of my little brother and sisters. You didn’t come home until 1:00 AM. I saw you cry and it hurt me just as much as the first time I heard you cry. You couldn’t move without wincing. You had to lay down from the pain. You had pain like burning needles stabbing you back for every time you moved.

Now you take pills for your pain. I don’t want you to depend on pills to calm your pain, I know you don’t want that either. I want to go back to being a little kid when all that mattered to me was having fun and enjoying everything I had. I wish to be in our old car, passing through the city lights as we turned up the radio and I fell asleep. I wish I could go back and be more grateful for what I had and not take anything for granted. I’m supposed to be the big sister and look out for my siblings but sometimes I want to be a little girl in your arms, comforted and not caring about anything.

You’re still the strongest woman I know. You’ve raised four kids and have always been there for every one of us. You still have your youngest to raise and she needs all the love you can give. I know I can’t get back my old mom, just like I can’t get back my old self, but I got to let you know that I’m ready to let go of the old you and let go of the burdens of trying so hard to hold onto the old you that has left now. I’m ready to let go and grow up to be more than I know I can be.

UNTITLED

A.G.

A challenging experience I had to deal with was losing a sibling. I was around nine when I found out I was going to be a big sister to a baby brother. I was happy that I wasn’t going to be an only child anymore. Time passed and I started noticing the baby bump in my mom’s belly. I would talk to my baby brother a lot. I would tell him how my day went and that I loved him. I couldn’t wait to see him and hold him. “Mom, how much longer till we see him?” I would often ask. She would always be so calm and speak gently, “Just be patient and before we know it, he will be running around the house breaking everything!” she would say. I would admire my mom’s words because she would always find the bright side to everything.

It was another normal day, I went to school and waited for my mom to pick me up but she didn’t come, my tìa picked me up instead. “Where’s my mom?” I asked her. “I will tell you when we get there,” she said. “Did she have the baby?” I asked as I got in the car. She didn’t answer me but she just smiled weirdly. I thought we were going to the hospital but we went home instead. No one was home and I was really confused.

A week passed and I would cry myself to sleep because my parents were missing. I was scared and worried and no one would tell me what was going on. Finally one day I came home and saw my parents asleep in their room, but I didn’t see a baby. I waited in the kitchen until they woke up. My dad came in and he had big red eyes. It looked like he had been crying. “Dad, what’s wrong?” I asked him and he just pulled me into a hug. My mom was still sleeping and I didn’t get to see her all day. I was with my dad sitting on the couch and he explained everything to me. I broke into tears after hearing the horrible things that happened to my mom. I couldn’t believe she got into an accident and lost the baby.

This was hard on me. I had not only lost my baby brother but my best friend who I would have always protected and loved. It sucked I didn’t even get to meet him and learn what he liked to do or what his favorite color was. No one was the same after this happened, it was like I didn’t even matter anymore. I understand they were in pain- so was I- yet they just

shut me out. My relationship with my parents changed and even I changed as a person. I became quiet and blocked myself from everything. Before I would always be loud and laughing all the time but there was too much pain in me to have room for happiness. I would always be the one in class to volunteer and raise my hand and try to answer everything, but to this day I stay quiet and don’t bother anyone. I don’t think I dealt with it properly because I didn’t open up to anyone, I just shut myself out. My life was not the same and my parents don’t like to bring it up or talk about it.

I really wish I could have been able to talk to someone and deal with the pain differently, but I just didn’t know how. I wanted to be there for my parents but I couldn’t. I really regret that because it affected our relationship. Now our relationship is completely different. I feel like I can’t go to my parents, and I never talk to them or open up to them. It has also affected me as a person because it is now hard for me to trust people and I can’t really understand why. I want to open up to people but something inside is stopping me and blocking me out. I hope I can change and become more open, but I know that I will forever feel the pain of losing my little brother.

MI PEDACITO DE MEL Ó N

G.P.

“Mijo, sabes que te amo.” Those were the last words I would ever hear from my mother. When I was eight, life seemed so easy. I was in third grade with nothing to worry about except my homework. I was an ordinary boy with good grades and many dreams. I was raised by two hard-working parents, Jorge and Mayra, both born in Mexico. We were a big family always full of energy, especially my five annoying siblings. Mayra, the oldest and bossiest one; Stephanie, the outgoing-yet-mature one; Jennifer, the nice, caring one; and my little brother Kenneth, the annoying and messy one. Being part of the Pasillas family was thrilling because we always had somewhere to go or something to do; we were always on the move.

One day my mother came home from work really sick. I remember opening the door for her. She ran to her room and laid there, shouting Dad’s name and saying, “Give me medicine or anything!” Those words gave me goosebumps. As Dad went for medicine, I just stood there not knowing what to do. I felt terrible as she groaned in pain but it was weird because she had not gotten hurt. yet she was so sick, she couldn’t handle it. A little while later Dad came back with medicine. We expected for it work or at least bring it down a notch. The next day she was worse than before. She continued to groan in pain for a week until she couldn’t speak because of her sore throat.

Meanwhile at school my attitude had changed. I was more serious because I knew Mom wasn’t well. A day after, my dad took my mother to the hospital because her illness had gotten worse. I didn’t find out until one of my tios picked me up from school which never happens. At the same time it was exciting because I knew my cousins were going to be at my house. On our way home my tio seemed very quiet, different from his usual outgoing and silly behavior. He didn’t say a word on our way home besides asking how I was and how was school. When we got home my cousins weren’t there, just my tia, dad, and sisters. They all seemed very worried but I didn’t know what was going on until I went to look for my mom and realized she wasn’t there. I ran to my dad and he explained that my mom was extremely ill. I began to worry. Dad told me everything would be okay

so I believed him.

A week passed and little did I know that would be the last time I would ever see my mom. She was suffering from pneumonia for about half a week before her heart stopped and she passed. I didn’t know until I came from school one day to find my family extremely sad. It looked like they didn’t want to cry because they didn’t want me or my cousins to worry. We were all sent to my sister’s room so we all played tag. My cousin ran into the room and told me, “George, your mom died.” I didn’t believe him until I ran to my dad’s room and saw all my cousins crying. I felt my heart drop. I’ve never felt anything like that, the feeling was sharp. It was a nightmare; I was devastated. I ran to my dad whose blank face stunned me. He hugged me and said, “God chose your mom.” I didn’t know how to react, being an eight-year old boy. I cried and felt empty.

My mother’s funeral was on a cold, gray day. We all wore black tuxedos with a white rose in our pockets, and my sisters wore black silky dresses. I remember arriving at the church and being impressed by the beautiful wooden tiles that covered its walls, and the bushes and white roses that framed the building. I remember taking a rose off its thorny stem and gave it to my dad. He looked down at me with a smile and hugged me. A white cadillac arrived where my mother’s marbled coffin carried her remains. Four of my tios carried my mom into the church. It was difficult to realize that this was real life and not a nightmare. We prayed and proceeded to give our farewells. Her coffin was full of white and beautiful roses. On our way to the cemetery, I realized I was never going to see my mother again. In a blink of an eye, she was taken away. A week before, we were the happiest family ever and suddenly we were saying goodbye to my mother forever. Going through the loss of my mother changed my personality.

After, I became more introverted, my grades dropped, and I was depressed. All these issues were a lot to take in for an eight-year old. But I was resilient and went through all of it. Going back to school and being asked so many questions made me overwhelmed and brought back memories I really didn’t want to remember. I was offered therapy which I didn’t accept but regretted it after. Not talking about what I had gone through made me really upset and sad. I didn’t want to talk about it when I knew I had to

release my grief. I remember telling my dad I didn’t want to go to school several times but he still sent me because he knew it would be bad for me to stay home and not socialize. I’m glad he did this because without my friends I probably wouldn’t be where I am now. They motivated me to do my work and helped me get my mind off the tragedy. I really appreciate my friends for that. Today I realize how much I went through and I thank myself for being resilient throughout the situation. Now I’m a little more open about it and life in general.

This was my earliest life lesson. Not everything you love will last forever; it can be taken away from you at any moment. I try to use my experience to show my friends how much they should appreciate their loved ones. I always tell them to appreciate their parents while they still have them before it’s too late, because I never had the opportunity to say bye to my mother. Thank you for everything, ama, mi pedacito de melón.

4 WARRIOR OF BOYLE HEIGHTS Expressions of Relationships

LETTING GO OF FEAR AND MOVING ON WITH HAPPINESS

MARIA R.

There were a lot of signs in my childhood that I really ignored. I ignored the facts that throughout elementary school I would hang out with guys and act like them. I would wear men’s shorts and boy’s tees that featured characters from violent video games. When it came to shoes, I would sport dark blue and black Jordan’s. I would go to school like this all the time. When I talked to girls I would run towards them like Stewie from Family Guy, saying hi then running back giggling.

The biggest sign I ignored was in fifth grade while watching the Disney Channel movie, Teen Beach Movie. My cousin was watching it with me and said, “Oh my God, I want to marry Ross Lynch. He’s so cute.” In my head I was like, “Maybe he is attractive but for me he was just like any other famous person with unique hair, perfect white teeth, and green or blue eyes.” Without hesitation I shouted, “I want to marry Maia Mitchell! She’s so freaking hot and beautiful and really cute!” She didn’t really expect that from me. My cousin who was sixteen at the time turned around and said, “Dude, you know that liking a person of the same sex is bad right?” I honestly didn’t know what this meant at the time. I was barely nine or ten years old. When she told me that, a part of me felt sad and I just wanted to sleep it off.

There were previous moments in my life where I had an idea of my sexuality but I was unsure and scared of being judged for actually liking the same sex because that is how it’s supposed to be in our heterosexist society.

In seventh grade I had a crush on one of my best friends, who is still my best friend at this time. Every time she would talk or call me, I would stutter a lot and feel nervous around her. My hands would get sweaty when we spoke. I would worry about what I said and whether it was the right thing or not. I would always look at something else other than looking at her directly. My emotions would feel so overwhelmingly strong that at times I wanted to hold her hand and kiss her. I didn’t know what these

emotions meant until I had my first relationship with a male. It made me realize I wasn’t attracted to males at all because I was still feeling the same way about my friend. In the relationship I felt really uncomfortable, as if I were in a small room with very little oxygen to breathe.

Ninth grade began with even more confusion because a boy started talking to me and we would hang out to the point that I started to like him, or at least I believed I did. I thought to myself, “Okay, what the hell is this?”

Eventually I told him my feelings towards him and we got together, but shortly after I realized I didn’t like him at all. The only reason I was with him was because I didn’t want anyone to know I liked my best friend. I thought to myself and said, “Maybe I just liked her as a friend. Or maybe I only liked her but not other girls.” But really, how was I supposed to know if I were gay if I had really never been in a relationship with a female? So I ignored it and kept this to myself.

Around October or November of 2017 I went into a psychiatric hospital for the third time because of previous traumas I had gone through that same month. The hospital was near an airport and every night when we would go to sleep, we would listen to the loud airplanes fly above us.

The hospital was divided into a female and male section. I shared a room with four other girls. It was pretty boring because I didn’t know any of them and they didn’t really talk. The next day the four girls left and new ones came in. “More boring people,” I thought to myself, but I was wrong. These three girls were loud but the other was pretty quiet. She would cry all the time but that really didn’t concern me because that was me on the first day. Her name was Selena. She was five inches taller than me with light brown skin and long brown hair. She had brown colored eyes that were framed with black glasses.

She was two beds away from me. One day it was just she and I in the room while my other roommates were in the day room watching Harry Potter. I was in the room because my head kept hurting. She was crying and looking for something to hurt herself with. I didn’t want her to hurt herself because it wouldn’t make the situation any better. So I approached her and asked, “Hey, you okay?” She looked at me with tears in her eyes and the sound of

her voice changed. While she was trying to answer she began to cry and said, “Yeah I’m fine. I just miss my parents and I hate it here.” I looked at her to see if she had something to hurt herself with and noticed she had a lead pencil. I didn’t want her to hurt herself so I told her, “I hate that I’m here too but if we want to get better then we’re going to have to get used to facing these obstacles. You know it’ll be hard, but sooner or later we’ll be happy again. This is just going to be temporary and I’m not blind so give me that lead pencil unless you want to stay here another extra three days.” She gave me the pencil and looked at me again. “I hate being in this hospital. I hate this place.” Who could blame her? The hospital was like a prison, you couldn’t go out. It would always be cold and there would always be yelling. The staff would wake you up every fifteen minutes to make sure you were still alive because all of us were on suicide watch.

She was still crying the next day so I approached her, “Get up and stop crying because you will stay here longer if they see you like this.” Obviously that was a lie but I just didn’t want her to cry anymore. Long story short, we became good friends and every night we would play Uno cards and laugh over the dumbest things. We talked about celebrities and how much we both hated our schools. It wasn’t that bad until I was going to get discharged one day before she got out. It really made me sad because for once I felt comfortable talking to someone like her who knew what I was going through. Before I left she approached me and gave me a letter. It said she had a good time being in there because I would always make her laugh. At the bottom of the letter was her number. I waited about three days until I called her. It turned out that we lived real close to each other.

After we got out we still talked to each other and hung out a lot. By January we began to have feelings for each other but never really admitted it until April. We got together and we still are. After that moment I accepted my sexuality, which is that I am gay! There isn’t anything wrong with being lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or queer. I wanted my parents to understand and sometimes I just wanted to yell out, “Mom, Dad, I’m gay!” but at the time I didn’t know what would occur next. This is one dream I have, to get all of this pressure out of me. So far I have taken a part off by accepting my sexuality and that’s just the beginning.

More recently I have came out to my parents as gay and they’ve been accepting and supportive. I feel relieved that I have nothing to hide from them anymore. I feel like myself at home.

SOULLESS

CELIA V.

I never really liked Boyle Heights. Most people say it is their home, their life, and their happy little place. That is true, but Boyle Heights gave me Hell. I’m not saying people shouldn’t come. It has culture and culture is nice, and so is the ambience. It’s just that I went through the worst thing here. I avoid going to the back of the park and I avoid going to the Japanese garden at school.

Throughout my childhood, life wasn’t easy. I was bullied a lot in school due to being chubby and fat. I didn’t have friends until the fifth grade. Middle school came and things got better. The bullying stopped but high school wasn’t as easy. People talked but I stopped caring—I still don’t. I even got in a fight with some girl, and I won of course—I had to.

Hell rose when I met him—my ex. I won’t say his name. No, this isn’t some little breakup drama even if it seems that way. This happened and I wouldn’t dare to wish for someone to go through what I went through. I felt insane; I felt guilty; I felt disgusted with myself; I felt broken. I was so confused and scared about what would happen. The guy I thought I could trust, who I loved and cared for, raped me. He lied to me and the worst part is that to this day, part of me still misses him.

We met online. He came to the school and we talked. We eventually got together. There were a lot of red flags throughout the relationship. He was very controlling of me. He made me smoke weed and ditch my classes, and that eventually grew on me. The first times I felt skeptical and scared but after that I just stopped caring and my grades dropped. I don’t blame him; I chose to do this. I always ignored the red flags despite my friends’ warnings and my subconscious thoughts.

One day we went to the park after school, something we would do a lot. We went to the back into a secluded area…. After ten days I reported it. I was scared; I never thought anything like that would happen to me. Months passed, I was tested and interrogated but it was all for nothing. The police left the case. He is still free to this day. I’m skeptical about it but at

least I don’t see him anymore. My feelings toward life, him, love, and myself changed drastically. He scarred me. With all the pain from the past, including this, I was done. I got therapy and was diagnosed with PTSD. Now I hide my emotions. I get little reality slips and zone out. I’ve tried finding someone else but it’s useless. I don’t think I’ll ever love the way I loved him. I loved him despite what he did. I hate myself for it. I deal with it by just letting it go. Life goes on. I’m strong and I know it. I know eventually things will get better. He was once everything to me but now he’s just a memory.

I know I’ve titled this essay “Soulless,” but I know my soul is still out there, and I’m fighting hard to recapture it.

THE HOME THAT CHANGED MY PERSPECTIVE ASHLEY O.

Dear Jenelle,

You have been through so much. Maybe when you read this again you’ll truly be happy. If anyone is feeling sad and you’re reading this for motivation, you’ve come to the right place. You overcame certain obstacles that many people wouldn’t have been able to get over. You have been through some very rough times. If you coped with that, you can cope with anything. Do you want me to remind you of what you’ve been through? I sense a yes so let’s tell this story.

At first you heard screaming and arguing which was normal. Until you heard the milk and cereal boxes clashing down to the floor, followed by even more screaming. You got out of your room thinking it was an accident and they were mad about that. The first thing you saw was his hands wrapped around Mom’s chubby arms and you instantly ran over to stand between them. He started to push Mom and he even pushed you. The stove and fridge were next to each other and he started grabbing them as if he were claiming them. Mom tried to pull him off but he kept going and that’s when they started fighting aggressively. This was the type of misogyny you never thought you would experience.

In your mind everything was racing including your heart. “Why is he doing this?” you thought. “What happened in order to make him this way? Did we deserve this?” You didn’t know how to react. You were hurt and knew you couldn’t trust him anymore.

The police arrived and came into the house. You and Mom were crying as you held her in your arms. You felt her warmth and tried to calm her down. “It’s okay, it’ll all be okay” you said, but it was all too much. The officer came to you and asked why you didn’t call the cops yourself. “I… didn’t… have… a… phone,” you responded in between sobs and breathing uncontrollably. He told you if it ever happened again, have a phone nearby so you can call the police and not your friend. The police officers told him to leave the premises and Mom got all his clothes and threw them out.

Mom was supporting toxic masculinity and adding onto the idea that men are strong and have more of an impact on others than women.

This event changed the way you see others in your life. It made you realize you should really pay attention the people around you, and that made you stronger in so many ways. That experience showed you that you can take charge of your own life. It made you see love—relationships in a totally different way. This experience makes you believe that men shouldn’t treat you that way, and it’s made you me stronger. If I ever see anyone or I, myself are experiencing that, I’ll stop it immediately.

If you can get over that, you can get through anything. Nothing can hold you back—nothing! Get that through your head. You or others may want to bring yourself down but you’ll be fine–you will always be fine. Even though you are going through something rough, there will always be a good outcome no matter what. Keep thinking positively and take charge of your own life. Make yourself happy.

With Love, Ashley Jenelle O.

WARRIOR OF BOYLE HEIGHTS

ASHLEY M.

Boyle Heights is alive just like you and I

From the smoky smell of carne asada a mile away

To the freshly colored fruit from the vendors on the streets

It’s a simple place with no violence more silence less thoughtless crimes

It’s a place with happiness and less crapiness

That’s what I thought when I was a child

The smell of cigarettes filled the room as you walked through the door

You’ve been home late so many times

When everyone is asleep and not a single car passes by It’s become a daily routine

Enough of these games

Tell me, where have you been?

The moment you fell asleep I made my move to prove who’ve you’ve been with I looked through your phone and found your affair

I found the dark-haired girl you’ve been hiding

She’s the reason why you never come home and why my mother cries herself to sleep, thinking I don’t notice.

You’ve cheated since I was four

When I asked about it you promised you didn’t!

You turned your back on me, and the family you created for another woman whowants you for your money!

She interferes with our lives

2:00 AM—it’s foggy outside

Marching up cocky, to the foot of my house

She tries to come into my home for money

You never listen when I plead for you to stop and leave her

You put me in the spotlight as if I’m the cause of your stress

You’re blinded by your own ignorance

You’re trying to prove you’re a man, acting big and bad

But in reality you’re making me sad

You didn’t care when I wanted to throw the first punch at your side chick

You didn’t care when I fought for myself against the verbal abuse you used on me.

It’s fine now

I’m becoming a leader and warrior of Boyle Heights

Fighting against your abuse and neglect

Taking care of the family you left

I’m moving on

I’ve seen the person you’ve become: a liar

a cheater

Beating down my hopes

Tying me down in ropes of sadness

anger anxiety

All I gotta do is keep fighting

You made your choice. I’m never coming back, Dad

That’s just life in Boyle Heights ….

I remember meeting you; you were a quiet boy

Short black hair and that black hoodie you always used to wear

Sitting in the fourth row, back in sixth grade

Over the years you caught my attention with that smile and dark brown eyes

That toxic cologne that I grew to love when you used to care

Your brown, warm hands used to hold my own

They had the same, old-loving type of tone

You were distant and violent

I was quiet and excited

I was young and foolish

I made bad decisions

I turned my back on the warning signs that something wasn’t right I pretended to be fine

Listening to my heart instead of my head

I wasn’t smart; you broke my heart and tore it apart

Making no apologies, you chose to be rotten

I thought you were the one

This wasn’t part of the plot

You shot right through me and taught me not to trust

You promised not to lie

You promised you would change

You promised not to do it again

You promised not to throw me away

Yet you left like I was worthless

I can’t take back the love and time I gave you

All these fake promises were made to be broken

Just like you and I, people don’t know the real tragic story of our life

The things you did

The way we argued

The way you broke me into a million pieces

The long lasting pain through all the seasons

I’ve grown and changed I picked myself up and walked away from your horrible lies and stagnant ways

No matter how much you beg and whine

I won’t turn back

You’ve hurt me enough

You didn’t change

I had to replace you with someone who actually cares and loves me, and doesn’t lie or have affairs

You took my heart for granted while I was enchanted by your spell

You put me in the spotlight as if I’m the one to blame

I’m done with these games

I’m done with these fakes

I’m better off without a father or a lover

I’ve found my soul mate to get me out from this hell

These lucid dreams have much to tell

I’ve learned to keep these nightmares at bay

I’ve been quiet for too long

I learned to use my voice because I have much to say I’ve become a warrior of Boyle Heights

You both no longer control me with your manipulative ways I own myself

I’m in the spotlight again but not as your burden

For now I am certain of my independence and self worth

FROM AN END TO A NEW START JOCELIN

N.

A dream I have is to show affection towards the people who support me. I want to be able to show how much I really love them even though I never show them through my actions or words. I want to open up to my parents about how I feel because they never seem to understand me. They think if they make my decisions for me I will have a better future than the both of them. I want them to respect the things I want to do instead of telling me, “No puedes hacer eso; te puedes lastimar y además, eso es de hombres, no de mujeres decentes” or “No quiero que te juntes con personas que te van a lavar el coco.”

Even though they don’t allow me to do certain things, I do it behind their back. Eventually they find out and because of that they have lost trust in me. Now they always keep me in check and this has made me have sudden mood swings. I get mad easily for the smallest things and even when people don’t do anything. I yell at them or act violently when they get near me. I just want to let out all my rage and hit something so hard because I can’t seem to hold in my anger at times. Then out of nowhere I become so happy that I laugh loudly and try to make others smile, only to become serious again because I can’t stay happy for a long amount of time.

I have pushed aside many people even though I know they have been there for me when I needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to open up to. I tend to let them go because I used to think they were too good for me and I didn’t deserve them. This was an ideological oppression but I still got over it as time went by. When I didn’t understand what I was going through I had let fake people into my life, not knowing they would hurt me even more. It came to the point where those “friends” backstabbed me by telling people what I had gone through. They made me feel less about myself because they knew I used to have negative thoughts and harm myself. I had told them secrets not even my parents knew about, but eventually my secrets were out. I couldn’t deny it or hide anymore because a lot of people already knew. When that happened I realized my mom was right, “Nunca le tengas confianza a nadie porque te van a dar la espalda cuando se cansen de ti.” At first I didn’t listen to her but ever since then, it has been hard for me to let in people into my life and trust them.

Ever since then it seems like I don’t care about those who respect me or try to comfort me. I guess I only talk to certain people just to “fit in.” I want to be in a group where we all like playing sports, having fun, and helping others. Even though I know we are all different I know they wouldn’t like what I love doing which is reading, playing sports and instruments, and listening to music to calm myself down. Either way I tried my best to hang out with people at school who have the same interests as me. It never tends to work out so I found other friends outside of L.A. like in Pomona. Even though I have known people for practically my whole life so far, I still don’t really seem to understand anyone. I always end up crying or feeling bad in the wrong moments so they see me as that weird person. If I ever do cry when someone shares something personal or sad, it is only because I force myself to. For me, fitting in is challenging. It is difficult for me to be there for someone and process my feelings correctly.

I lost my sense of feeling ever since I lost the connection with both my parents. Our connection was as deep as an ocean but now it is as shallow as a three-foot pool. When I tried to open up they just laughed and thought it was one of my many jokes. So they thought it was nothing to worry about. There was a time where they realized I was suffering from depression. They received a call from the counselor saying they should pay attention when I want to open up and they should be careful about what they tell me because I was sensitive. I felt as if the world had stopped for a couple of seconds because he had told them I would harm myself. Ever since then, it was clear to my parents that I needed their love and attention. But to this day I can’t seem to open up about how much I love and care for them. I can’t tell my friends how grateful I am to have them. All of them mean the whole world to me.

The way I coped with my feelings was trying to make others understand how I felt about certain topics. I tried socializing more, getting out of my shell, and not being that quiet and shy girl. I used music to help me focus on what I really wanted which was having a better relationship with others. Most importantly I learned to love myself and I learned to forget and forgive. I continue to be determined and I will eventually have the courage to express how I feel.

PUTTING MYSELF BEFORE OTHERS

JONATHAN M.

Failing, making mistakes, and losing can make us all feel a certain way. I know this because I’ve been through some experiences that made me believe I wasn’t good enough or that no one will ever like me. I believe I’m a likeable person and I don’t bring negativity around other people, but sometimes I hear otherwise.

Throughout my life I always find myself doing something wrong. I would always be blamed for hating someone, not being trustworthy, or random things that make me look bad. These things never even happened and whoever heard these stories would take them to heart instead of believe me. Because of this, instead of having another person say sorry for something they did, I put the blame on myself. I would be seen as vulnerable and people thought they could treat me however they wanted without worrying about me getting mad. Whenever anyone would be mad at me I took it to heart and felt as though I failed them. In reality I did nothing wrong. I ended up developing low self-esteem because I saw myself as a failure. I would blame myself and call myself stupid when people left me, and I ended up being lonely.

At times I would basically do anything for my so-called “friends.” I put them first and my own self second which resulted in bad consequences and them deciding to leave me. They left by either never talking to me again, or purposefully causing a problem or argument as an excuse to leave. I didn’t know how to react because I would do anything for my friends and they still decided to leave. It made me feel as if I wasn’t enough. I would try to find a way to have them in my life, not knowing that having them in my life was hurting me instead.

It wasn’t until my real friends–my brothers–helped me come to the realization that not everyone is going to stay in your life. Whether I like it or not, it will happen eventually. This was right after a big relationship ended and I blamed myself even though I knew it wasn’t my fault. Honestly it is still hard having people leave my life but I manage to ignore it as much as possible. All of my experiences like having my closest friends leave with

no sign of remorse, have shaped me into who I am today.

Instead of being hurt by others, I learned to become immune. Instead of having others use me or take me for granted, I learned to decide if they are in fact, making my life better or difficult. At this point in life I am careless in the sense that I don’t care if other people don’t like me. I don’t care about the negative things other people say as long as I know I am doing the right thing. I know what they say isn’t true and I know they aren’t gaining anything from it. If they just want a reaction they won’t get anything. I only have myself and no one can possibly know the truth besides me. I truly learned to put myself first, have more self-respect, and not have other people use me or see me as an easy person to take advantage of. Putting myself first has definitely put me in a good position in life and given me a new perspective. Instead of worrying about my friends I worry about myself and make sure I’m doing okay in school. This experience is a lesson that has made me more aware of how I am doing in life and has taught me how to put myself first.

NOT-FRIEND

Dear Not-Friend,

I don’t wanna give out your name because I don’t want other people knowing who you are but maybe you, kiddo, will figure out. Remember middle school? Those were the worst years of my life. Not to make you feel bad or anything but it was all because of you. You took the few friends I had away from me. You knew I was weak and gullible and you took advantage of that. We were best friends in middle school and I trusted you. But that was the worst mistake ever. You spread rumors about me but that still wasn’t what hurt me the most because I’ve experienced that my whole life. You punched and pushed me around but that didn’t hurt me either because I’ve experienced that many times before as well.

What hurt me was that I gave you my trust and you crushed it like a grape, right in front of me. I chose to tell you my background story. I told you how my parents argued and take their anger out on us. They would scream at my siblings and I, and make us feel bad about ourselves. You told people which made them leave me one by one. Do you remember telling me, “Maybe you should just kill yourself. Your parents don’t even love you so do them a favor.” That hurt so much because you implied that I was not important to you, my parents, or anyone. By then I knew I was going to end it because your words made me believe that maybe killing myself would make the world a better place. But I didn’t because I met my real best friend who is still here for me. This best friend I have has been there for me all throughout middle school. She was my shoulder to cry on and never left my side. She told me everything you would say. I guess you can say she was a snake but only to you.

This best friend thoroughly introduced to rock music. Rock music’s message showed me that no matter what I’m going through, I have to stay alive because I have a purpose. I can’t let anyone get in my way of my success. I’ve been listening to rock since arount the third grade. I just never really got the messages or meanings behind the music until middle school. My favorite bands since elementary are, My Chemical Romance, Pierce the Veil, Black Veil Brides, Twenty One Pilots, Falling In Reverse, Sleeping with Sirens, Paramore, and System of the Down (those are just a few).

I don’t know why I chose to forgive you. Maybe because I hoped you would change as a person and become more trusting, loyal, and nicer. But you didn’t, you stayed the same. Maybe the only reason I forgave you was because I desperately wanted friends and since I’m an introvert I dislike meeting new people. For some reason, even with all the drama and the trouble you have gotten me into, we are still “friends.”

You still hurt me even to this day. You’re always bragging about how much your parents love you and spoil you. That’s good for you but don’t you even think, with that peanut-sized brain of yours, that I’m not lucky enough to have the same things you do? Maybe you should just shut up. You bragging has made me feel very bad about myself. I’m not saying your life is perfect because I know very well that you have been through things too, but you should stop thinking you’re better than everyone.

I managed to work things out with you because of my best friend. She didn’t want me hating you for the rest of my life because that would be a waste of my time. She encouraged that I try being friends with you and I did because I trust her. That’s why when you ask me what’s wrong I just say I’m fine because I don’t trust you. You need to earn my trust back, which will be hard but doable. You caused most of my anxiety and trust issues. From this experience I’ve learned that people can be so cruel and nefarious; you shouldn’t trust anyone at all except, maybe your parents because who are they going to talk to about your secrets? I’m sorry for the rant my “friend,” but I forgive you because I choose to be nice. Thank you for this experience; it has created the person I am now. Hopefully you have a successful life or something nice because honestly, I don’t really care. I’ll see you tomorrow, friend.

Sincerely your beloved friend, 11

P.S. If you are going through this same situation, I want to let you know that you will be just fine. Take it from me, your life will get better. Just don’t give up because you are the future and maybe you can make a change using this experience. Do me a favor and stay alive!

MY PAST ISN’T MY FUTURE LOURDES I.

When I was in middle school I didn’t know what bullying or microaggression was. People started talking about it and now I wonder if that was what my old friends had done. I mean, I guess it’s too late to say now, right? This happened back in middle school when most of us were still outgoing and optimistic.

I remember the first day of school went well. Although we got lost trying to find our classes, I still had fun with those who I called friends. I have memories of the brick building and the white, red, and black walls that represented us, the Stevenson Pirates. As we got farther into first semester, things began shifting. My friends started joking around about they way I looked, the way I dressed, and what I liked. “Hey, Lulu,” I turned my attention at having heard my nickname, “You’re ugly.” I either ignored it or stared at her until she said she was joking. I didn’t believe her. This went on until the end of eighth grade.

Beginning my freshman year at Roosevelt High School, I met Jasmin at Summer Bridge for College Track. We had fun talking about our passions and stuck together during field trips. We found out we had a lot in common so we became friends. A little bit into first semester, I met another person. He’s quiet and shy, but funny once you get to know him. Fernando thinks little of himself, but I say otherwise. We both draw and have a dream of making our own comics. We help each other when one of us is down, and I question who would ever think of harming him- he’s perfect. Both of my friends are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Ever since I met them I’ve stopped thinking about the other friends I had. My past is something I want to forget but I can always look back and see how I’ve changed.

END WITH A DOT DESTINY A.

You and I, we are on the same side

And I apologize for all the lies, and all the times I made you cry, and the broken ties between both of our lives

I’m sorry that all I think about are the times we were together

And how we never really talked about the ties that we both severed

I’m sorry

I never said sorry

For all of the times I caused you to worry

But you gotta understand that I was never a fan of you making demands and all of the plans

While all I do is stand

Silent as you command

I’m sorry I offended when all I intended was to be the one doing the mending

For once instead of you

Because all you try to do

Is out of love

The same love I feel for you

Our arguments hurt me emotionally

Hurt about as much as a shooting hurts a community

Yet I can’t stop this deep, burning anger

Anger that we’ll never fully understand each other

You want me to be perfect even though you weren’t I can’t help but struggle to swim against the current I’m being swept down by all my troubles

grades, family, homework

My future turning into rubble

I want to get out of here

Out of LA

Own my own life, have my own say

The only way to do that is through school

Gotta find the tool I can use to get out of the hole

I dug myself into

Gotta get a great job

Gotta get a great house

Gotta stop acting small like a little mouse

I need to learn to use my words even though I’m scared

Scared that you’ll no longer care

I don’t know how to feel

You’re so hot and cold

These mind games are getting old

I’m beginning to fold under all this stress

My life is turning into a complete mess

Even though I’m doing my best

You don’t know what you’re doing to me and I know you can’t see all this pain that you’re causing me unintentionally

I wanna be strong and the one you rely on I wanna be the one who’s able to fix our bond

Gotta be resilient through the hard times even though it’s tough

Gotta brush myself off

Gotta pick myself up

We need to learn to love ourselves

Break out of this conformist spell I know there’s no way to tell if we’re living in our own personal hell

I know you went through a lot; I’m going through a lot too

But you gotta learn that I am not you I have my own problems and my own set of issues

I’m done apologizing when I’m not in the wrong

I’m sick of you criticizing

That’s why this poem’s so long

I’ve said what I wanted, I know it’s a lot

I put my emotions on paper

End this poem with a Dot.

SEEKING BUT NEVER FINDING DAMARIS R.

Growing up, my life has been split into different homes. I hardly spent time with my dad and I felt like things could’ve been better living with both parents. Sometimes when I think about my dad I wonder if I really knew him. That’s what sucks. Sometimes I overthink how things didn’t really work out for my parents, but I get that it’s life. People are not always going to be there for each other. They get tired and move on with their lives. I’ve always wished to have both parents since most people I knew had their parents. I always thought if I had my parents together I could’ve been happy. I really don’t understand how I feel about the separation. I think I don’t care but when I dig deep and think about it, I bring myself down.

This affected me in so many ways. I started to do badly in school and my parents thought something was wrong with me, which there was. I didn’t like the idea of my parents moving on so fast and I became mad about it. I started slacking off in school to the point where I wouldn’t feel like doing anything anymore. I remember having conferences with the principal and my teacher. They asked my mom if she would like to pull me back since I wasn’t doing well.

The next year I realized I got the same teacher and that made me feel so many different ways. “What are my other friends going to say?” But I really didn’t care about it after a while. Months passed and it was a nice beautiful Saturday. My dad asked me if I wanted to go to a party. I said yes, but with who? He said one of his “friends” that wasn’t really his friend. After that day, she started to come over to my dad’s house with her kids. That’s when I realized my family wasn’t going to be the same. I went through a phase in my life where I was really mad about everything.

One Friday my dad picked me up from school and as we were driving, I noticed we weren’t going to his house. My dad told me we moved somewhere else, we are not living with my grandpa anymore. I asked why and he said, we will be living with that same lady. That’s when everything went crashing. He ruined my whole mood. I started to overthink because he left my grandpa alone. I thought things might change. Which they did.

I always knew the lady never liked me. My dad would give me money every weekend and I don’t understand why that bothered her. My dad was just trying to help me out with things I needed. Her kids would blame things on me even if it wasn’t my fault. I hated that about them. I don’t understand why I bothered her when I never did anything to her. I remember once she told my grandma I would make a mess, and I thought to myself, “That’s not true. I always clean up after myself.” I remember she would give me a face that said, “What are you doing here?” I felt unwanted, but other days she would be so nice to me. That’s the one thing I never understood from her. All I ever wanted was a family but I guess it’s life- things happen for a reason. I just sometimes wish my dad and I still had that bond we had when I was younger. After a few years I didn’t really want to go over to my dad’s because I didn’t see a point anymore. I don’t know why I cared so much about something I wasn’t supposed to be worrying about.

I’ve always struggled with my stepparents because they’re both the same. I’ve never done anything to them, I hardly have any communication with them. In case you’re out there dealing with your stepparents’ B.S., just ignore them even if they’re trying to bring you down. You should know that you’re better than them and just enjoy life. But if it’s more than words please report it, because you shouldn’t be treated badly from people you barely even know. It’s better to overcome it than deal with something that is not really important. The more I distanced myself the more I thought about it in a better way. I’ve stopped bringing myself down and I tell myself it’s not worth it. My mom would always tell me things like this could happen but they usually don’t stay like this.

If you’re going through this, don’t let any words bring you down. Just know you’re the best! Always do good in school or anything else you choose. You can’t show others you care about what they say because they’re only trying to bring you down. Not all stepparents are like this but there are some who hate for no reason. I hope nothing like this happens to anyone. If anything happens, talk to other people if you can’t talk to your parents. Ask for help!

Take care, Loves.

JUST SIT BACK, RELAX, AND ENJOY THE RIDE BIANCA B.

Have you ever heard the quote, “By ourselves we’re no one. It’s when other people look at us and see someone, that’s the moment we each start to exist.” It’s from a video game. Ever since I was little video games have been a big part of my life. I would play for hours and hours on end.

Ever since my older siblings started their family and moved away from home, it has just been me. My father is always cooped up with work while my mom is too tired to do anything. It’s just me in my room and my PlayStation. Kingdom Hearts was always the game to play because the relatable characters, mesmerizing orchestra music, heartbreaking story, and places make me feel like I’m the one going on an adventure. I would get lost in my own imagination as if reality and fiction had mashed together and created the fantasy I live in.

The Wayfinder Trio always reminded me of my siblings and I. Terra as my brother, Aqua as my sister, and Ventus as me. Terra is the stronger older brother who felt like he needed more power to be accepted by his father. How easily he was willing to give up everything to save his younger sibling mirrored my brother’s image. Aqua wanted the best for everyone and tried her very best from the beginning to help, but failed in some way in the end. And Ventus is me, the creative and bright younger child, wanting to help but always being told to wait by the sidelines. How attached they used to be until the moment everything changed. The lovely Star Boy, left alone in a room of white quartz, seated on a throne until one day his sister will save him. Playing made me forget about school and about fake friends, family problems, my missing assignments, and most importantly my loneliness.

In front of my family I always put on the mask of their ideal perfect child yet I even failed at doing that. I’m always getting criticized for being myself and being told to change for my family’s image. I spent days crying to myself and questioning, “What is the perfect child like?” Because she certainly wasn’t me.

Maybe this piece is being read by my twenty-five year old self, or by my

parents- who knows. I just want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being the reason my mother cries herself to sleep. I’m sorry to the people I shut out due to my own view on the world. I’m sorry to my father who I don’t talk to for days. I’m sorry to my brother for giving him more stress than he already has. I’m sorry to my family for being a huge ball of stress.

Maybe in the future my father has already apologized for his “right” doings, or my mother has apologized for trying to shape me into the child I’m not, or my brother has admitted to misunderstanding me. I hope they remember all the times they told me to respect family yet I never get any in return. All the days they talked badly about my sister for being who she is, yet they cover it up by saying, “I love you so much.” I can recall my brother bad-mouthing my sister for showing off her tattoos, yet he was the first to get one. I never had a say in anything. Mouth shut, legs closed, hands placed on lap with the dolled-up smile on my face. I’ve cried so many tears from being told I should be happy with what I have. I’ve been told, “You’ve never been through what I’ve been through so you shouldn’t even be complaining.” Sorry to burst your bubble but no, I’m not you. I’m me.

I have my own problems that you think you understand but don’t. I have my own pain too because I am my own person. I’m tired of living by the rules that are set in stone. I want to live the life I want, and give myself what I know will make me happy. I want to do what I please to do with my body and know that I’m happy with it. So take a deep breath and calm your tears. It’s okay to whimper when crying so hard. It’s okay to feel what you feel so look at me, please.

Maybe you have finally grown up and are the musician you have dreamed of becoming, giving people hope to go on the way the music does to me now. Maybe you have finally met the boy who made you realize how much you’ve longed for his company or anyone’s company who understands. Please don’t fret on your past mistakes because the people who were involved are most likely out of your life. Be the person you have always wanted to be because maybe now you are free from the unbreakable chains you thought you would be tied to forever.

BEYOND THE PAIN Expressions of Resilience

DEAD-LIVING GIRL: MY LIFE THROUGH FOSTER CARE CARO

When you think about childhood the first things that might come to mind would be cartoons, getting spoiled, memories with family members, and family reunions. Throughout my life I always heard my friends talk about bonfires, potlucks, and parties with their family, which made their lives seem so wonderful. I grew up with a violent father and a mother who was a drug addict because that was the only way for her to cope.

As the eldest of three daughters, it was my responsibility to comfort my sisters because my mom was already going through enough. I felt like the least I can do was feed my sisters and put them to sleep at night. Throughout the years it was the same routine: wake up, go to school, come home, cook, eat with my sisters, shower, and go to sleep to the sound of my mom crying. My mom got caught up in drugs and the neighbors started noticing how my dad would hit her. One day a lady dressed in a black tight skirt and a light blue blouse came to our house and started talking to my mom. It took a few hours and when it had gotten dark outside, I heard my mom call my name with her calm, sleepy voice. I walked into the living room and they both looked at me with desolation. They didn’t know how to tell a nine-year-old that she was being ripped away from her mother. The lady made my sisters and I pack and she told us we were going on a vacation with my tía but I knew what was happening.

We stayed with my tía for a year and a half. It felt like my life had paused, like I was a dead-living nine-year-old. During this time my mom took classes and left my dad for a better man who actually respected her and saw the value in her. He consistently showered her in his love and care. Every time he came over he brought her a bouquet of flowers and brought pizza to my sisters and I at my aunt’s house. They ended up breaking up because my mom was too hurt emotionally and mentally to be with him. She soon found out she was pregnant with him. She was going to have a boy and I was so happy because I wanted a baby brother. But my mom and dad ended up getting back together and I was devastated.

A few months later we went back to my mom and dad. We didn’t have a

house so we moved to Boyle Heights. I loved it because there were a lot of murals, taco stands and liquor stores at every corner. We came here because there was a rehab my mom had found. They offered a room for all six of us but it was really small. I didn’t like it but my parents were able to afford it. We were only supposed to live there for a few months but we ended up staying there for four to five years. Our family started growing and there were more mouths to feed now. I started seeing my parents’ stress more and they would make me stressed. I really hated it there because there were other drug addicts and some people had mental health issues. There was always gossip and some people would steal the food from our fridge. Things started getting bad again and my parents would argue every night because of money. This time my siblings and I couldn’t escape from hearing that because we all shared a room.

There were now six kids and two adults. Then my mom got pregnant again, which I thought was stupid because life was hard already. After that, all seven of us got taken away again and I had the same feelings as when I was nine. But this time I felt much stronger because I had already gone through this and I now had six siblings to take care of. This happened on May 30th, and my siblings and I are still in foster care with my grandma. She isn’t really my grandma, she was our babysitter when we moved here. She is a really smart, independent woman, and she knows what she wants.

I write this sitting in court, waiting to see what will happen. Either we go back with my parents or the court will give them more time to finish their classes. If they don’t we all get adopted, either altogether or separated. I really hope my parents get their classes done, not for them but for their kids.

Life has been hard for me, having to leave my childhood behind and mature in order to take care of my sisters and baby brother. I now see how this chapter of my life is shaping me to be a better person for the future. I’m also glad that my sisters are two strong girls because they didn’t deserve to see the things they saw. I’m grateful to have learned how to be selfprotective, open-minded, and observant. I also learned that choices not only affect you but the people around you, and what you do will affect your future in a negative or positive way. Some people respond to challenges by

fighting, others may give up. I chose to become stronger and smarter. You can’t change others’ actions and how it will affect you, but you can decide how to react towards it. You get to choose. This is what resilience looks like for me: being here today.

UNTITLED

LIZBETH A.

I was nine years old when I jumped out of that closet and tried to protect my mom from my abusive father. I hid there to make sure my dad wouldn’t hurt her. My mom and I managed to escape from my forceful dad who was already plotting his next move to throw a chair at us. I remember running out of the house barefoot. Rain was pouring down my face mixed with fearful tears from worrying that my dad would beat my mom. As a result of this situation, my parents were not fit for taking care of my two other siblings and I. We were immediately placed into foster care.

I was placed in some lady’s home with children of her own, both rude and obnoxious kids. She was constantly mean to me and always made nasty remarks about anything I did. One of my sisters went to the hospital while under her care. While she was going through surgery, feeling scared and alone, her own family couldn’t even visit her. Spending Christmas and my birthday in foster care, I was starting to feel hopeless. I was constantly overthinking, “I’m never going home and my sisters are wasting their time. Eventually they will give up and I will spend eternity here.” Going to court and feeling the same, nothing happened. It felt as if I was trapped in a continuous loop, following the same sad routine with endless hope. I couldn’t do anything.

The most painful thing was seeing my sisters struggle. My two other siblings and I lived with them. Meanwhile my mother and father just walked out, letting my sisters handle a big responsibility they couldn’t do. They chose not to eat in order to save money for us. After getting all these papers signed for us, they didn’t have enough money for the car they used everyday. At the time they were nineteen and twenty years old, and one had a child of their own. With no help they struggled to make sure we were living in a sustainable home.

Visitations were embarrassing. I remember staring at everyone awkwardly and thinking to myself, “Wow, we’re never going home.” Half the time my mom would come drunk and my sister wouldn’t know what to do. Our caretaker listened to our conversations and wrote things down for court. It

was as if she wanted us to suffer by going out of her way to do that. It was such a lousy and miserable experience.

After two months of feeling hopeless my two sisters finally got custody of me and my other sisters. For the most part, my life was getting better. I started to do well in school, I didn’t face problems, and was even going to therapy- until I went to middle school- that was where life started to spiral. I started to ditch school, get bad grades, and eventually got into drugs. At first I did it to have a fun time but I started to realize it made me happy because I was missing something. I would constantly miss school to go smoke or I would come to class high. I wasn’t in the mood to be jovial and that made me much more relaxed and less stressed. Missing school so much and getting caught on campus with drugs was really just the cherry on top of my cake.

My sister was stressed and disappointed in me. I knew she was worried about me being in the streets, doing things I shouldn’t be, and I began to feel like an awful person. I knew I needed to be a better person overall starting with going to school everyday. It was hard coming to class everyday but I knew I had to for my sister. This was my thank you to her after all she’d done to provide me with a place I could actually call home. I was not going to let her suffer and carry this burden just because I couldn’t get it together. I want to graduate and see my sister proudly smile as I hold up my diploma. I want to get scholarships to universities and attend a good school. I took a step towards a better path. I still have a long way to go and am making progress with coming to school and getting better grades.

BEYOND THE PAIN: FORGIVENESS

ITZEL B.

Memories come and go, they come in all different forms. The good memories bring back that perfect day you spent at the beach with your family. But sadly we’re always put in situations that negatively impact our life by the ones we love the most, the ones who we think will never hurt us, our own family. Painful memories are the worst because they put you in a mental block where you lose yourself. You become someone you don’t even know. That memory always comes back to you and haunts you no matter what.

Pain is what you feel when you witness your mother crying herself to sleep. Torture is what I felt the moment I witnessed my mother crying uncontrollably. Not knowing what I could do for her other than tell her, “Everything will be okay.” when in reality I, myself had no motivation in life. I began to distance myself from others. I felt like my whole world, my family, and my life weren’t the same as before, when my dad would get home and we would all eat as a family together. Betrayal is what my mother and I went through when we came to the realization that you weren’t the same person as before. That’s when we found out you were cheating. So many negative thoughts were running through my head, “ How could you do this to your own family? Why would you do this to us- are we not enough?” Emptiness is what I felt when I heard you and my mother arguing from the other room. Her saying, “I want you out of here by the end of the month!” left me as broken as a glass plate dropped on the floor. I couldn’t bare the pain of my family falling apart. As the days passed the dinner table felt more lonely to the point where I would eat dinner alone. The countless crying and sleepless nights made me feel like I was trapped in a bubble of endless pain. From time to time I began to believe that my life was going to be dark and miserable, and that happiness was not gonna be part of my life anymore. The pain I was going through seemed endless, and there was a point where I began to lose hope in all the positive things in life.

I remember the moment my mother decided to give you a second chance. Forgiveness saved my family and has taught me that no matter how

difficult the situation you are in is, there will always be an escape from the negativity in life. My family began to come together again and we began to act more like a family. I would no longer eat dinner alone and I began to smile and was happy again. I’m grateful that I have this memory because it signifies strength. This memory is evidence to me that even in the most difficult situations in life, something positive will come out of it. This horrible experience has taught me how strong of an individual I am and how I am able to fight and forgive people for the mistakes that they have done. Through this terrible incident I have learned to always get back up from life’s inconveniences and remain optimistic. I have learned that resilience allows you to grow and become a stronger individual.

FROM LILYPAD TO SUCCESS: THE ROOTS OF MY RESISTANCE

DAVID H.

When I moved from Mexico to the United States I had to become resilient. My family lived in a home where as soon as you entered, you were greeted with many pictures of relatives. There was one of my mom and dad kissing on their wedding day which made me feel a bit weird. We lived near a freeway. We had a good view of the city and its buildings. We watched cars passing by, some with smoke coming out. Our humongous family and home seemed like a farm because we had many animals. You didn’t have to be too far away to hear our dogs. Oso is the only one I can remember, barking hungrily, demanding that someone feed him. As usual, the cats laid on the carpet, purring as they slept. There was a brown one as soft as a cloud. We had to check on the chickens every so often because they would fight a lot. The few piglets we had stayed inside a beige pen where they would walk around in mud. And the roosters would ruin almost every morning for me, with their constant crowing. I tried sleeping through it but of course they didn’t care as they continued to make noise.

On a cloudy day in July 2007, the cool fresh air blew around our house which I found odd since it was summer. I was playing with my brother and my black and red toy cars when my mom said something about moving. I can’t dictate what she said but I vaguely remember her saying, “Niños, vamos a ir en un paseo. Ahi esta tu papa.” I barely knew what was going on but seeing the tears roll down my mom and my grandmother’s faces let me know that something was odd. I looked at her as if she had spoken a different language that I didn’t understand. I smiled at her trying to show that I knew what she was saying and I was happy. I was a young four year-old boy who was unaware that this next event would change his life entirely.

In Mexico I left a big family to come to a new country and start a new life. My grandparents stayed behind. They took care of me as a child even though they had jobs, in order to help my mom out while she went to college and worked part time. I said goodbye to my cousins who played

with me; specifically Giovanni because we would always hang out at parties, playing in the jumper or with toy cars. I visited his house when my parents took my brother and I. My aunts were also left behind; they helped my mom when she was tired and stressed. Along with them stayed my uncles who bought me things when my parents couldn’t afford to.

As I got older my mom told me stories of how my family took care of me. They were like my second parents since they changed my diapers and fed me, played airplane with me, or bought me clothes and toys. Mom told me that once my grandfather bought me a big box of toy cars that my brother and I would always play with. As Mom told me, “Tu Abuelito te compraba una leche de chocolate todavia cuando no tenÍa dinero.” In retrospect, I am grateful that he demonstrated his affection in this way, because my grandfather suffered from an accident which prevented him from working. And no work meant no money.

Aside from leaving all these special family members behind, I also confronted another issue at school. I was bullied for speaking Spanish. My peers would tell me, “Learn how to speak right, you stupid kid. My grandmother speaks better English and she has no teeth.” Classmates would judge me for the way I looked, wearing old shirts with stains and a pair of shorts that looked old. I didn’t tell my parents however. I knew they would come to the school to complain and the school wouldn’t do anything about it. I also dealt with speaking issues such as saying words in English and my grammar. I was called a dirty Mexican and that I should get deported by these proud Americans who thought I didn’t belong in this country. As the years went by I learned English, thanks to so many friends I made who respected me. Since I didn’t really know what Mexico was like, I had a great time in the United States and that is how I was able to deal with moving to my new home. Now I feel better that the bullying has stopped. But with Trump as president, the oppression continues with every comment he makes about how America should build a wall to block immigrants-people he has labeled as “rapists.”

What helped me get through these difficult moments was talking to my grandparents. I talked to them about what was going on in my life. The most valuable advice I’ve gotten has been from my grandmother, a woman

who is short in height but not in wisdom. A woman whose sense of fashion is shown by her perfect outfits and black short hair, and whose loving heart is heard in her raspy voice and laugh. She once told me, “Híjo, mira. Tú estás muy bien en la escuela y yo sè que en el futuro, tu vida va a ser mejor. No importa si alguien te díce algo por que tú eres mejor.”

Dealing with all the oppression made me think, “Why do people tell me all these certain things over and over again? I really don’t get it.” That’s when I found out about stereotypes and how we need to resist the oppression. I told those people, “Do you really think I like to do those things like drink or mow lawns for money? What about you Americans, who make fun of me and Mexicans even though some of your relatives are Mexican and you have Mexican heritage?” The only thing they told me was, “Okay, that’s cool. Now go mow my lawn or no money for you.” I am proud to be Mexican because we Mexicans are known to communicate with each other and we are there together as a family. Our special traditions like Reyes Magos and Cinco De Mayo, show me the richness of my ethnic history. I want to learn more about my background and see there are ways to be proud of being a Mexicano. I want to learn about their schools because I want to know what it is like over there.

This transforms my future because I want people to know that most Mexicans are not bad people so I’m able to do certain things such as visiting my family, without a problem. Resisting this oppression made me realize that people who bully others are people who like power. Some bullies I know had issues at home so they bully other people in order to feel happy. I want to make sure everyone is okay and don’t have any issues. I want to be able to help my family in Mexico with money since it’s hard for them to earn it. I want them to be okay since they took care of me as a baby and I would like to return the favor. I want to meet the family that raised me. I want to have an impact on them by showing sacrifices must be made and if done right, in the end it’s all worth it.

BEHIND MY BLACK MIRROR

DELILAH G.

Spinning room. Alone with my thoughts. Scrambling around, looking for the right answer to the questions I ask myself constantly. I was a nine year-old girl feeling this way. Ever since I first felt the pain of a loved one leaving my life, I’ve kept hiding my thoughts and letting them get to me every single day. Short breaths come out, with hardly any air to go around. I feel dizzy, am I dying?

Growing up I’ve seen changes in my life and the way my mind grows. I’m happy, or at least I try to be. Being distracted by certain things helps maintain my thoughts. I focus less and less on my past. The older I am, the more I begin to understand the meaning of life and how I can be of value.

Suddenly insecure thoughts strike my mind, horrible feelings of how I’m not good enough. You’re probably thinking, “Yeah I get it. I’ve heard this before.” But if you were to be in the life of a young child who’s been through my situations, right now you would keep your mouth shut. Now as a fourteen year-old going on fifteen, I begin to feel like I can’t breathe. Like I’ve been holding my breath underwater for too long. Seeing and hearing things cause dèjà vu—“I’ve been here before, I’ve seen this before, I’ve felt this before.” I run through my thoughts as the seconds pass by like a gym coach’s stopwatch timing the children as they run at their fastest pace.

Anxiety attacks can feel like you can’t move or speak out to the person you feel safe talking to. They can send you to the emergency room but you’re sent right back home with no problems or issues. People act as if you’re totally fine. Even if your body is healthy, your mind and the way you feel is not! As the years pass by I’ve learned this is a part of who I am, and this will not discourage me anymore! It will make me brave to stand tall and make myself feel wanted and happy, even if others don’t want this for me. It’s my mind, I can relate to many of those who deal with this horrible feeling. For those who are lucky enough to not go through this, I salute you on how you can control it behind your black mirror. Now I close my eyes, take a deep breath and slowly let it go, and begin a new chapter of my life.

When I think of my loved one now, songs that play from the loudspeakers at family gatherings can make me feel upset. Even though I could still hide behind my black mirror I’m able to think twice before I do. Over the years I’ve felt that I’ve come full circle and have experienced closure. Anxiety has got me to where I am and who I am today, and as far as I could say, it will never bring me down again.

MY MOM BY HEART ANONYMOUS

Growing up knowing I had such a caring person who was always there made me want to do better to impress them. This person was my grandmother who I called my mom because she raised me. I remember coming home from school, as soon as I walked in I would hear her ask, “How was your day? Are you guys hungry?” Her favorite dish to make was spaghetti and she would always cook as if she were on a cooking show. She was very involved in our education. If there was a parent conference she would be there early. At award ceremonies she would cheer me on even if I didn’t get one. She would tell me positive things to motivate me to get one next time.

The day of my elementary school culmination my grandmother had a doctor’s appointment and when she told me that my heart dropped. She showed up though, and as I walked across stage I could see her and hear her yelling my name. That’s what we appreciated about her, she would always make time for us and find a way to support us.

Once we started getting older things changed. She was always in bed, we started making our own meals, washing our own clothes, and doing things on our own. We would come home to her sleeping. When things started to change I did too.

I stopped doing my work by the time I was in eighth grade. I just didn’t care anymore but I would try to put in effort sometimes. One hot day, I had a bad day at school and I came to my grandmother telling us she had cancer. I showed no emotion but inside I was breaking down. I thought to myself, “She’s not gonna be the same anymore. Things won’t be the same.” Even with cancer she would still try to be involved in our education. It wasn’t the same but we knew she cared a lot.

One morning I woke up early for my soccer game. It was very cold, cloudy, and it looked like a perfect day to stay home and chill. I gave my grandma a kiss on her cheek. She was off chemotherapy and was on her bed sleeping; she was on medication so she never talked to us. I got home and we were

cleaning the whole house so they can bring the hospital bed for her. The nurse told my dad and sister something but I was in my room. I walked to my grandma’s room and I didn’t see her breathing. I got scared and told my dad (he is my grandpa but I prefer to call him my dad), “She isn’t breathing, what’s happening?” I see him and my sister crying. I said to myself, “She is gone. The woman I love so much is gone.” Oh boy, that day was the worst. I took two weeks off from school. I went to my cousin’s house because I couldn’t handle the pain of her death. It hit me so hard, I didn’t know if I was ever going to be the same.

I went back to school and I felt really different. This all happened while everyone else in my grade was getting hyped about culmination being a few months away. I didn’t care about anything; culmination, school, grades, or my behavior. I completely stopped doing my work and I was disrespectful to all my teachers. I remember cussing at some of my teachers and ripping up my assignments. I even started giving attitude to my dad when I knew he was going through hard times. But I was selfish, I didn’t care about anyone else. I started to ditch and smoke which I’m not proud of. I did all those things thinking, “She isn’t here anymore so why bother trying?” I would ask myself, “Will people like me for not doing my work and going home late and being disrespectful?” I wouldn’t go home until it was dark. I gave up on life. I felt alone, as if I were in a haunted house with no one. I would convince myself, “I don’t have anyone. What’s the point of opening up to people and telling them my problems?” Other kids were getting letters saying they were going to culminate and I didn’t care until I didn’t get one and had to tell my dad. I remember his exact words, “Don’t do this to yourself. You are smart and you know better. She wouldn’t want this and you know it.”

It had me thinking that maybe I did all those things to cope with her death. The summer going into my freshman year I got my stuff together. I went to therapy and got the help I needed, and I’m really glad I did. This year I got As and Bs and I’m proud of myself for doing it on my own. I knew I could do it and sometimes I wish my grandma were here to see how I took school seriously. I’m not proud of the things I’ve done but I learned. Honestly, I’m thankful for having my grandma be there and take care of me for thirteen years.

WEAKNESS DOESN’T RUN IN OUR FAMILY LUIS B.

Dear Future Luis,

My mom told me what my father did to us. My own father was abusive and the things he did were disgusting.

Mom told me a story about how Dad used to beat me when he wanted to watch T.V. One day when I was really young, I was trying to watch caricaturas but Dad wanted to watch T.V., so he hit me.When Mother tells you these stories she always says it in such a normal voice. It shocks you but it also makes you proud of how Mom completely coped with the experience. You wonder how someone could do that to another person.

Reflecting on all of that makes you realize that we’ve gone through so much together. So when you feel weak or can’t do something, look back and read this to see how far you’ve come. The purpose of this story is for you to never forget where you came from. Whenever you feel like you don’t matter, read this letter so you know weakness doesn’t run in our family. You come from a powerful and resilient mother. Why shouldn’t you be the same?

What you need to do is talk to someone about the experience to help you cope. If you don’t, it won’t be the healthiest thing for anyone. You also need to make memories with Mother, whether they are small or big actions like going to Superior to help her with groceries.

Show the positivity we have in our family. You want to be just like Mom. After all this, she still manages to smile everyday and wants the best for her children. Oh yeah, about children, remember how Mom literally had to poke needles into her stomach so she can have a baby? She wasn’t able to have babies after you were born. Since you were an only child you kept bugging her for a baby sister. And guess what? She had a baby. After all she’s gone through, look at us now. We have the family we dreamed of. You’ve been happier than ever and so has she.

Remember, you don’t come from a weak family. Weakness doesn’t live in you or anyone. Make your life better and continue to move forward. Look at what strength has done for your family. Don’t let weakness take over. I will take this experience to become a better father than our dad ever was.

Sincerely,

Your younger self

ONE HELLA GOOD FIGHT LAYAL I.

Dear Future Self,

I know we might feel as if it were our fault when something bad happens but its not, and talking about it will really help a lot. It has already been three years without having Charity by my side and it hurts. One thing that makes me want to cry is when people joke about others who kill themselves. It hurts because someone who I truly care about killed herself because of her own problems. There was a point where I felt as if I were a failure because she tried to call me around ten times and I could not answer the phone. I still feel like it’s my fault because she tried to figure things out. She just needed a friend to answer and help her through her problems.

Every year on June third I call her phone to wish her a happy birthday but no one answers. Then it hits me that she is gone. June third is the only day I feel like she is still alive but she’s not. It hurts so much because I really did care about her. She was my best friend who I called my sister. I had never felt that way about anyone- or was it because I was coming out of my shell and noticed that I’m bisexual? Charity was the first girl I had ever loved because of the way she was. Her personality, her laugh, just… her. To this day I look at our pictures and say, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there for you; I truly am. I wish you could have been here to help me through everything I’m going through right now cause I need my best friend.” Sometimes after I say that, I see a butterfly and think it’s her flying around, looking after me.

One time a butterfly landed on my leg and I was so scared, but then I noticed the butterfly had this little heart on its wing. I remember in first grade we were drawing butterflies and Charity put a little heart on hers and said, “Butterflies have a heart and they have to be free to do anything they want.” That was the day we became best friends. Now I see the world as it is, and I know it’s not my fault she killed herself. People who kill themselves don’t do it for attention, but rather because they don’t feel the need to live anymore; they may feel like they don’t fit in with society.

I’m truly sorry for what happened to Charity but we are going to have to

move on with our life. I should not be scared to have friends; like how we were the year she killed herself. We shouldn’t be scared to move on and trust another best friend with our ups and downs. The world is too small; we might not know what could happen next.

We also need to forgive ourself for what is happening with our little brother because of his cancer. I felt like it was my fault for leaving him alone with our mom, who I knew would not take care of him. He means the world to us and I know it’s really hard to even think that one day I’m going to wake up to a phone call saying, “I’m sorry for your loss, I know your brother meant a lot to you. I hope you could move on.” I am really scared because we have gone through this path already and it was hard to move on.

I remember the day we went to the waterpark with Mom’s whole side of the family and he said, “Let’s go run around the crying rainbow!” I laughed so much that he asked, “Why are you laughing? Aren’t you sad because of the crying rainbow in front?” I told him it was a water park and the rainbow wasn’t crying because it was made of metal. He started to cry because he thought it was real. For the past two years my only birthday wish is for my brother to get rid of his cancer. I wish everything could go back to how it was before he got cancer. He was three years old when he got cancer and has been struggling with it for almost two years already.

When he started Chemotherapy he got scared because his hair started to fall off. I started to cry even more when I saw how scared he was and he looked at me and asked, “Why is your hair not falling?” I looked at him, crying and said, “Because I’m not a good person and you are.” I told my family I had to use the restroom. I had to leave so no one could see I was crying. I couldn’t be around them and let them see I wasn’t strong. Looking strong was important to me and most of all to my little brother. I couldn’t let him see that I wasn’t the strong, beautiful, smart sister he thinks I am. I don’t know if he will die, I really don’t because his health gets bad then he’s good. No one really knows what will happen but there isn’t anything we could do about it. All we know is he could get better, then I won’t have to worry about getting phone calls from the hospital. But if he does die we know he fought one hella good fight. He mattered the most to us because he is more than what we could ever be. I know we have dealt with someone

who meant a lot to us passing away, but that is the way life is, and there’s nothing we could have done to fix it.

Look future self, there are many things that will happen to us. We have to learn how to allow people to come into and out of our lives. I know now we only have one true best friend and that’s good because he means the world to us too. I always want you to be in contact with Matthew because he has truly been there for us through thick and thin.

Also, start calling our step-mom our mom. She provided us with clothes and every time we were going through something- even though it had to do with guys- she was always there for us, not because it was her job but because she wanted to. She wanted the two of my sisters and me to let go of our real mom who she left us for drugs and someone who used her for the little money she took from our dad. I know we still might have not forgiven Mom for what she has done to all of us, but remember; she is still our mom and is a part of us.

We have to let go of the past and move on to the future. We have to forgive ourselves or forgive the people who hurt us. We have to learn how to forgive people who really did care about us and to move on from it. The past will always affect our future because sometimes there will be things we might regret later on. Right now we cannot see our future outcomes but all I could say is, do not be scared to allow people into your heart. Don’t be afraid of the outcome when you allow them to walk out of our lives. Yes, it will remind us of how our mom walked out but we should not be afraid.

Sometimes it takes a long time just to find who you are. I know you still might be struggling but you shouldn’t block people out of your life because of what has happened to you. I know that in this world you don’t want to show that you’re part of the LGBTQA community; but when you find someone you love, or when you learn to love yourself, you will soon understand who you are as a daughter, a friend, or anything else. You have to be happy with your life and not take it for granted. You have to learn how to help.

Sincerely, Layal

I.

MY SO CALLED FATHER MARIA A.

Dear Past Self,

We have struggled a lot at a young age. Never have I imagined that we would end up in a cruel moment. A moment I’d never forget was the moment my father walked out of my life when I was seven. A child could never imagine one of their guardians leaving without looking back. It was a moment where my younger siblings and I were sitting peacefully watching cartoons, the usual SpongeBob SquarePants.

My mom steps out of the room with tears running down her cheeks. The look in her eyes broke my heart. They held emotions of hurt, hatred, fear, pain, a look of defeat. The first thing that came to my mind was, she probably hurt herself or something. She looked like she was in pain but not physically.

She realized I was staring and motioned me to come over. “Mija estoy bien, vamos estar bien. Tu papá decidió irse lejos de aquí por un rato.” I felt like I was floating in the water and a big wave came crashing into me, making my mind feel dizzy. I took in all the words my mom said and reality came crashing down, filled with so much sadness. The moment she said that, my so-called “father” walked out the room with two big black suitcases.

I remember him hugging us one by one. When he reached me he hugged me and said, “Guereja, behave y cuida a tu mama y tus hermanos. Te quiero; luego regreso.” That’s when I broke down crying, my instincts kicked in telling me that this was the last time I’d ever see him, and sadly it was. When he walked out the door all these flashbacks of the moments my dad and I spent together, hit me. The moments he would coach me on how to play soccer; when he’d lecture me; when he was always there when I was sad. It impacted me harshly because there wasn’t going to be anymore “us”. He wasn’t going to see me grow up; he wasn’t going to protect me from danger anymore; he wasn’t going to give me all those lectures about staying away from boys. The day after everyone acted like nothing happened, like it was a normal day. Like every morning, my mom was banging on each of

our doors, hurrying us up for school.

It made me feel mad and sad that no one in the house paid any attention to what happened. It felt more like a dream than reality. My siblings were young so I guess they didn’t comprehend what was going on. My mom had to be strong for them since she was on her own now, but then again my dad and her were never on good terms. I was emotional that day; I wasn’t crying but I wasn’t happy either. I felt empty, like life was just over for me. I couldn’t control my emotions and felt like suffocating. You know that line girls use sometimes, “My father broke my heart before any other boy”that’s pretty much how I felt.

The reason I’ve chosen this memory is because I want people around the world who have had their mother, father, or both, walk out of their life, to never give up on themselvesI have to admit, it would leave a big impact on you but that only makes us stronger. Without them we can still achieve so much and become a better person in the universe.

To my past self, I’d advise you that you’re a strong girl for overcoming that painful moment. You became a whole lot stronger than before. You had your moments where you’d give up but you always picked yourself up and started all over again. You’re not the only one who has experienced a moment like that, there are so many other kids in the world who can relate to you.

To not give up, I put many positive thoughts in my mind to be strong, inspire my siblings, make my momma proud, and have faith. Today I’ve improved on a whole other level. My grades are better and I communicate a tad more with people. It still takes time for me to express how I feel but other than that, I’m happy because all the changes made me into a generous person. All it takes is bravery and the support from the people you have with you right now.

Sincerely,

Maria A.

THESE WINGS OF RESILIENCE WILL SOAR ALICIA P.

Dear Future Me,

Right now you’re a cocoon. What you have suffered through has also created the outgoing girl you are. You made it far despite the everlasting agony that was once too much to bear alone. You kept those harsh memories of abuse that were too painful to even bring up. Maybe you thought you never had luck. Being a target to be hurt mentally and physically was a step into the darkness. Having to constantly remind yourself that you’re going to get through this. Having the thought of your own fear swallowing you whole. As for that, I never opened my mouth. Lies were forced through my teeth and nothing was being expressed. But inside was filled with hatred and stress.

After leaving the horrible place in the system, it was still something I never wanted to tell. Something I wish I can share but instead I just yell. Yell out all the emotions that became painful to bear alone. I found a way to deal with it silently, with no tone. It felt like my pain was being spilled out of me along with my blood. Nobody knew because I showed fake love. Until that very first friend saw through my dull eyes and knew it was all lies.

That friend opened my eyes and I finally saw I wasn’t alone. With that warm smile, things were changing. The lock on my heart broke and I learned to love and trust again, I wasn’t faking. My life was being turned upside down. From then on, people saw a bright smile instead of a frown.

Having to actually speak about what’s been on my mind; it’s not easy to tell everything. It just takes time. Maybe I should have spoken up before. Then my heart would have not torn. This created a girl who knows she can do what she believes in and not back down. With a determined heart, she knows she can win what her hands can grasp. Make a stand and make a sound. In time you will emerge into a more beautiful being than you already are, and fly away.

Sincerely, Alicia

P.

THE STORY OF ME

CINTHIA B.

I am the type of person who would do anything to avoid my situation. It all started when my parents were planning to get a divorce and I broke down. I pushed everyone away and I tried to deal with it on my own. I felt so lost and alone. The divorce made me think about what I was going to become. I felt better when my parents didn’t go through with the divorce but I still did not feel good enough.

I hated feeling vulnerable and the thought of opening up. As time went by I tried to open up to my friends but I felt as though they wouldn’t listen or care so I silenced myself. I felt like no one was there for me. I am part of a family of seven. My sister Carina moved out when I was about six years old so she was never there. My other sister America only cared about herself. My oldest brother Manuel was always busy and my youngest brother Moises wouldn’t understand anything, so I didn’t have anyone to talk to. My parents were constantly arguing and I was always being pushed away. Being one of the younger siblings put me in a spot where I had to be an example to my younger brother while trying to be better than my older siblings. I’ve always felt like I couldn’t open up to my family so I never did.

I finally felt like I had found someone who was willing to listen to me. I met her in eighth grade during sixth period P.E and we instantly connected. She would tell me about her problems and I told her mine. Her name was Aleshea, she helped me slowly open up. She made me happy by helping me get back on track in school. She always made time for me. We would spend a lot of time together and that’s when I realized she was really there for me. I built enough courage to tell her what was going on in my life. She did whatever she could to help me in my situation. I felt some sort of relief after opening up and I was more joyful and resilient. I was talking to my family again and everything was falling in place. It was coming towards the end of the school year and Aleshea told me she was moving. I was devastated but the time we shared before she left were the best days of my life. We went out to eat and just talked. It was hard saying goodbye; I knew I would be alone.

High school was starting and I was extremely nervous because I didn’t really know anyone. I finally met someone and had hope again but she turned fake on me, which affected me deeply. I was depressed and pushed everyone away. I didn’t know who was there for me again and I went into a dark hole where I didn’t want help from anyone. I didn’t know what to do to help myself anymore; I was completely lost. I remembered the strategy I used to cope when I was first stressed; I started writing down all my emotions and problems. I was slowly starting to realize that I didn’t need anyone by my side to be happy. I was finally identifying myself and had the strength to open up to someone but I was still afraid of judgement. I never did open up to anyone but I see how I’ve improved from the beginning of high school to now. I’ve felt more confident about my intelligence, appearance, and the way I think. I’ve been able to build resilience mentally.

I’m glad I was able to find myself through all my struggles. In a way, the problems I faced helped me find who I really was. I now know that I am able to get through any obstacles, whether it’s a friend turning fake or a family issue. I now know who is and was there for me. I can finally open up about anything.

THINK TWICE BEFORE YOU ACT ANTHONY G.

Something I regret is not putting much effort in seventh grade. During that time I felt the need to give up. The people around me in school influenced me to want to give up. I was around students that didn’t seem to care about their grades. I didn’t feel as if there was any support at school or home, so I did the same as the other students. I know it wasn’t the best choice but it was how I felt at the time. Seventh grade was also the same year I lost two of my family members. I noticed that when I stopped putting in effort, it affected my parents. They didn’t want what happened to be a distraction from school but it was.

I wasn’t really thinking about how my actions would affect anyone else. I was only thinking about myself which was really selfish of me to do. As soon as I noticed I had affected my parents in a negative way, I knew I needed to change my attitude and work. Losing two family members was already enough for my parents to deal with. I didn’t want them to worry about me too. So I began to make changes in my actions.

Knowing I was around students who did not do work, I moved to the back of the class or to a different class in order to concentrate. I ignored every type of distraction and put more effort into my work. I did this every day, hoping this could help improve my grades. I began to notice a positive change in my grades which made me feel good so I continued to put more effort in. I ended up passing all my classes for the year. This made my parents extremely happy and it also made me happy because I knew how much stress they were going through at the time. Something I learned from this is to not only think about myself when making choices because my actions affect others.

A HOUSE FULL OF GHOSTS JESUS

S.

My older brother, younger brother, and I were always close but everything changed when my older brother got into middle school. He started hanging out with the wrong people, started ditching, had straight F’s, talked back to my parents, and started ignoring my little brother and me. He started ignoring us so much that we pretty much never talked, played, or even looked at each other. It’s been a while since I stopped trusting people because when I trusted my brother, he completely changed over night.

I felt like my parents needed to pay full attention to my older brother to make sure he didn’t continue going down the wrong path. In my head it looked like they also stopped paying attention to us. It ended up getting so bad that my parents put him in a police program and therapy. Seeing my family stop talking to each other made me not care about school since people wouldn’t even acknowledge my accomplishments.

Slowly my little brother and I drifted apart from each other. It wasn’t his fault or mine. It’s just that he is bipolar and has anger issues, so when he gets mad I can’t do anything. Whenever we started arguing he was the first one to throw punches because that’s his way of solving problems. It started getting so bad between us that whenever we got into an argument it ended in yelling, fighting, or not talking to each other.

I never liked talking to people about how my life was because I didn’t want people to look at me differently. My only escape was music. I started listening to Rock and after awhile, got into Rap. Not today’s style of Rap but people like Eminem and NF. They talk about problems such as abuse, neglect, break-ups, family, and depression. Hearing people talk turn their problems into art really inspires me.

Time had passed since the only thing I could relate to was with music. I started talking to people and slowly two people from my group of friends became my best friends. This was when I started relating to people and not just music. There was something about them that made me trust them even

though I didn’t trust people. They, out of all my friends, were really patient with me and wanted to be closer with me to find out what was wrong. This all happened in middle school. When we culminated I didn’t talk to one of my best friends and I didn’t even say goodbye. This was probably the point when they lost my trust. During the summer we never talked but my other best friend and I did. It was getting to the point where I knew we were never going to talk again, so we left each other alone.

As I was entering high school I knew sooner or later everyone was going to leave. My older brother left me when I trusted him; my little brother left me as well; one of my best friends did too; so is it crazy to think my other best friend would leave me as well, sooner or later? At this point I’m just waiting for my other best friend to leave. It’s not because I think he will, but because this had become my mindset.

Some hobbies that have helped me not think about my brothers and their actions, are drawing, gaming, and music. I’ve gotten into drawing a lot more when I noticed that it helps me express what I’m feeling and represent moments of my life. It isn’t about how long you’ve been drawing for; it’s how you want it to come out. I call it drawing but others call it tagging, which I don’t agree with at all because the vibrant words can be a form of expression. Music is something I always relate to and it won’t change. Gaming is one thing people don’t see the true aspect of. It has changed my life extensively. I’ve actually met a friend online who has been someone I’ve known for the longest time. Gaming isn’t just for meeting new people and becoming more social. It can also improve coordination and problem-solving skills, which has helped me in school.

I was so behind in school because I stopped taking it seriously. My parents, teacher, and counselors all thought I wasn’t going to culminate. Teachers started mistaking my name for my brother’s-his name isn’t something you would want to be called. Being called his name is the same as being called a dropout. I needed to spend my time wiser and by the end of middle school I culminated by changing my F’s to A’s and B’s.

I will graduate considering all the consequences my parents had suffered. I know what my brother did that was wrong; I won’t go the same way he did.

Now I know the difference between right and wrong and I’ll use it to my advantage to show I’m not my brother, I am not a copy of him. I want people to treat me as myself.

CHRISTMAS FIRE MARTIN F.

On December, 24 2017 my house burned down. I thought it was a dream-it was foggy and smelled like burnt clothing. Everything happened in an instance. The basement was filled with black ash and there were flames coming out from the roof. The first thing I did was grab my phone and try to wake up my brother. His door was locked so I tried smashing it with my fists and kicking the door so he would wake up. I called the fire department but it was too late; the fire grew and destroyed the house we owned, our clothing, bikes, and tools were all burned. Although my house burned my family was alive and okay. A lot of my dad’s friends helped us by letting us sleep at their house. It was hard because the winter break homework I did was all burned and I had to restart it. I felt angry at my neighbors for recording my dad when we were trying to see if he was okay. The news crew came to our house and interviewed me and my brother. I felt like they just wanted to get the word out to show how valuable things can disappear in an instant.

Soon school started and my parents told my school what had happened. They asked if we could take a week off so we could recover. The school said no because we were going to miss a lot of work. The next day I had to take my dog to the car because we could not leave her in the hotel room by herself. All my friends came to say hi and asked if I was okay. In that moment I felt like people cared about me. Two days went by and my advisory teacher, Ms. Cortez made a donation. I gave it to my dad so he could pay the rent. I thanked Ms. Cortez for doing what she did. She is the best advisory teacher ever because she supports all her students and she helped me when I needed it. I thank her for what she has done to keep me on track by supporting me with school work and to trying to finish what I have lost after my family’s incident. I don’t want to forget this incident because if it didn’t happen I would not have the support of Ms. Cortez when I was upset.

I had to help my dad with moving a lot of our things to the house we were renting. It was a lot of work. It felt unfamiliar to see my house destroyed and my childhood memories all gone. My friends told me they heard other people joking and saying, “It was lit.” It affected me because people were making fun of my house that was burned.

FINDING LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS OF DIVORCE

DEYANIRA F.

The divorce of my parents is a memory that will never be forgotten. It impacted my life in a strong and powerful way. I remember my mom saying, “Mijos, tengo que hablar con ustedes.” We were sitting down in the living room and at that exact moment I realized something would change. I closed my eyes and pictured it perfectly; I saw this young girl wearing her school uniform, eating chips, not knowing how her life was about to transform.

Discovering depression and low self-esteem at a young age is something I don’t wish upon anyone. Pain and suffering can come from one day to another. Not understanding what’s going on around my own house, I just had to face what was next to come with my head up, always. It was hard not relating to anyone my age and not having the same thoughts as they do. I felt stuck in a cave with no way out. Dealing with it properly can’t always be easy, there’s always a wall. Trying to answer all my questions would turn my head into chaos. My brothers were always an extra support. I can count on them but they don’t know what’s stuck in my head. Fear was winning and I didn’t know where to run. Therapy couldn’t always be the solution or way out of my problems.

Changing our thoughts depend on us. We decide to make a change by walking toward positivity, not other people’s ideas. We can make these thoughts fly away by doing happy activities like hanging out with friends. We learn how to overcome situations that can make us feel devastated.

I need to stop involving this experience in every hard moment of my life. I know I’m not the only one with this type of experience. I know nothing is forever. I’m scared of what’s next for me and I fear the repetition of the same struggle I lived through. There’s one destiny for me; I see it as a happy place and a happy family. It’s all waiting in the future, depending on what road I decide to take. I’ll get to know my destination.

SHE DOESN’T DESERVE THIS, NO ONE DOES SAMANTHA E.

The moment I first saw the problems at home was when I was six years old. It was nighttime and hearing them yell at each other felt like something bad was actually going to happen and it did. I don’t remember what they were saying or why they were arguing but with all that drama going on, my siblings and I had been taken away from my parents by the social workers for a year.

My mom doesn’t deserve this; she is very helpful, nice, sweet, beautiful, and funny. I’m always feeling upset and sad that my siblings and I, and our mom have gone through a lot. All this makes it difficult for me to handle when I have to focus on my education and other important things. It’s also painful to see my mom getting hurt and being sad over a dumb reason that isn’t true at all. I get stressed out about having to focus on school while dealing with all this drama. I feel bad that my siblings have to go through all of this when they should be focusing on school. Now that we’ve been going through this for so long, we know we should focus on more important things and never talk about it because we get into negative emotions.

I won’t let any of my family issues get in the way of my education even though it did once. Since it’s still happening I have to help my mom in any way, and make her leave him and not let her live this way ever again. All of this makes me feel brave and strong and has helped me be a better person. It will let me move on to a better life, rather than just going through this situation. I feel proud that I have transformed myself into a better, braver, more helpful person.

TAKING CONTROL OF T.S.: LIVING WITH TURNER’S SYNDROME

VENICIA R.

It all started when I was in my mother’s womb. During her pregnancy she had taken a test to see if I had any complications like down syndrome etc. A few weeks after, my dad received a call notifying him that my mom’s results came back with the baby having Trisomy 18. This condition causes severe developmental delays due to an extra chromosome 18, and babies who have this aren’t expected to live at all. My parents refused to take any tests done that would put my mom’s pregnancy at a high risk of a miscarriage. The only other way for my parents to find out if I did had Trisomy 18 was to wait until the day she gave birth to me and run some blood tests.

January 16 was the day I was born. Despite their joy of me being born, my parents were worried if I had any complications. As time passed my mom was always told that I was fine, but she began to notice physical and delayed growth in me at the age of two. I would not talk, walk, or pay attention to people looking or talking to me. For a year she kept insisting and fighting with my then-doctors, demanding a blood test. The doctor always responded, “She’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with her. She’s in good health.” My mom was not satisfied with his answer and changed doctors. The new doctor who I still see to this day, heard my mom’s plea and ran a blood test. After a few days Dr. Robinson personally called my mom and confirmed that her instincts were right, I was diagnosed with a chromosome disorder called Turner’s Syndrome (T.S.).

Turner’s Syndrome is a disorder that only affects females. It mainly affects growth in height and we are born without female hormones. We’re also prone to lots of diseases such as heart problems, low and high cholesterol, thyroid disorders, diabetes, ear infections, hearing loss, skin cancer, as well as learning and physical disabilities. At the age of two I started my growth hormone shot treatments. I began to see my endocrinologist specialist every four months and get blood drawn every six months. He monitors my T.S. All my other specialists, such as cardiology, thyroid etc., I see every year

to two years depending on how my last visit and blood tests went. My daily routine consisted of painful growth hormone shots. I joke about how my first word was, “Ow” because I started my treatment before I could talk.

School was hard and frustrating, especially Math. My writing is not as good as everyone else’s but it’s not due to me being lazy. I’m missing three knuckles—one from each ring finger and pinky finger—so that makes it harder to write and write neatly, and that affects my grades. Before I used to get Ds and Cs on my report cards. Not because I didn’t care about school but because I had a learning disability. Now I’ve been getting Bs, and some Cs. I still get low scores on tests because of my ADHD which is also due to having Turner’s Syndrome. It’s hard to focus sometimes. I work as hard as I can to keep up in class. I used to have an IEP which frustrated me even more. I didn’t like getting pulled from class because I would feel lost and confused by the time I got back.

Having T.S. also has an effect on my family. I had to mature at a very young age. If my parents forgot about my injection I would remind them even though the shots hurt and I wished I did not have to remind them. I knew I needed to because the injections were important for my health. My parents and I always bump heads and don’t see eye to eye on everything. My whole family worries of how T.S. could affect me mentally and physically. I don’t let T.S. determine my life or how I should live it.

I might have T.S. but T.S. does not have control of me. Despite all my daily challenges with Turner’s Syndrome and ADHD, I walk through life as if I have nothing is holding me back. That attitude makes everyday a little easier. It also makes me who I am—someone sarcastic, funny, outspoken, and very independent.

FAT GIRLS DON’T GIVE A!

MARIANA T.

Remember when something painful happened to you and you blamed yourself for being so sensitive? You let everyone in and helped whenever you could. Everyone thought you had a big heart. There were some people who used you and said chisme behind your back that wasn’t true. Once you found out about the bad things people said, you let it go into one ear and come out the other. Before, you were that person who would cry whenever someone said something bad about you until mocos ran down your nose. Even though it was something small, you took it hard and it caused you pain.The same thing happened at home.

All this pain made you emotional. There were days when you were in bed crying, not wanting to eat or get up. You felt darkness everywhere and didn’t see any light. There were other days when you got mad at someone for no reason and you hit or screamed at whoever it was. That happened with your friend who was confused and didn’t understand, so she didn’t talk to you for days.

Your mom didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know what was going on. The only idea that came to mind was to take you to therapy. Your first time there, you were confused. You showed up to the office and noticed how small and quiet it was. There were many board games laying around. You never understood why you were there because to you, there was nothing wrong with you. You thought everything you did was normal. You would hit anyone when they said, “You’re fat” with a disgusted look. Even though you didn’t talk to your therapist she noticed you had anger issues because you would get really mad when you lost a game, but you thought you were just being competitive. Many people you knew thought having anger issues was a joke and that made you mad and emotional. You told yourself there was no point in trusting people so you kept your mouth shut.

There were people at home who made fun of you and called you were fat. Where you lived, there were bushes everywhere. One day you were sitting on top of one and you fell in and made a hole. Everyone around was looking at you and laughing. At home your older brother bullied you. He

made comments on what you would wear, and called you fat and dumb.

Before, no one really cared about what you said. They acted as if they cared by asking what you and your friends did over the weekend but you felt invisible. You didn’t want to say anything to anyone at this point. Your teachers also made you feel invisible. They never asked why you behaved that way, they just punished you. They only saw one side of it. They never asked if you were okay. They usually saw you as a happy little girl with a smile on her face as if nothing was wrong. Now you are used to putting that smile on and acting like all the pain disappeared. You pretend to be happy and laugh at jokes. When people say something about you, you ignore it until you get home. You hide in your room and cry to let it out. Then you go out with your friends to have fun and keep the sadness out.

You should’ve just said something to someone close to you like your mom or best friend. Do you remember when you had one before she betrayed you and found someone better? Now she acts like she never met you. Maybe you should’ve said something so people didn’t think you were crazy. Or maybe if you weren’t so sensitive, you could’ve ignored the chisme about you. You should talk to a loved one, someone you trust, so you can have someone who cares if you cry. Just tell your story, maybe you could even change something about someone else’s opinion.

After all of that you finally met someone who is a better best friend. She was going through the same pain as you, only she took it harder. You both did your best to make each other happy and support each other. She made the funniest jokes that only you and her would understand.

What I am trying to say is, you should be with people who make you happy and support you. Find ways to help people who go through the same pain. You should always think positively when things are going the wrong way. Always be there for your friends and family. My friend made me realize there is always a way out of anger, anxiety, or depression. Find ways to think more of yourself, not less. This will create the astonishing girl you are.

Sincerely,

Mariana T.

DIVORCE: A BLESSING IN DISGUISE BRYAN

P.

When my mom and dad separated I was eleven years old. Others may have had it tougher if their parents separated when they were at a younger age. I don’t know if I’m lucky or unlucky because some may not even have one of their parents. I was unsure about what was going on. I didn’t know if it was a good thing. Maybe not knowing made it easier to deal with it.

I remember the day being cloudy and hearing both my parents screaming. Hearing them fight made me scared of what would happen. When would it end? When my mom decided to leave my dad’s house, we packed up and stayed at a hotel. It was difficult with just my mom, sister, and I. I had to be the man and protect them but I didn’t know how because I didn’t have a father figure to ask for help. So I did what I could to help protect my family. When my sister cried I wanted to cry as well but I didn’t want her to see that, so I sucked it up and consoled her.

I was still in elementary school so my mom and sister were left alone. The next day was a school day and I was unsure of how to deal with it. When I got to school I acted like nothing happened. To distract myself in class, I started to participate more than I usually did and I actually started to forget about it. This experience has had a huge postive impact on my life because I started to grow up.

What I should have done differently was be positive. I’m usually a mellow guy. When I have a bad day I forget about the world and laugh like there’s no tomorrow. Being positive in life can help me deal with whatever the world throws at me. Being sad doesn’t mean you should mope around hating yourself. You can use that sadness to create something you didn’t even know you could do. Sadness can be used in art and also be put into songs.

This experience has changed my future for the better by giving me a life lesson on how to be strong in tough situations. Everyone should have resilience to make their life easier. Growing from tough situations shows you have progressed over time. You will have become something better than you thought you would. Never let bad experiences keep you down; always look at the positive side because it can be a blessing in disguise.

BACK-HAND TRICK GERARDO O.

The most challenging thing I took time to overcome was perfecting a basketball move. I kept practicing but kept failing to master it. I was getting to a point of becoming very frustrated. I would go out and try the back-hand trick but the ball would go rolling. And when I would try it at basketball games, the ball wouldn’t go where I wanted it to. I thought if I were to be under a lot of pressure it would work but it didn’t whatsoever. I kept trying it at games and I would still be messing up. Eventually, my teammates weren’t passing me the ball because I kept losing it to the other team. To get the ball again at our games, I would have to stop practicing. So my experience with doing the back-hand was slowly decreasing.

I started dribbling more so I could perfect it and not think about the trick I wanted to master. How I got back up after this setback was seeing other players perform that move. I saw how they did it and I was taking mental notes of how. I later asked my older friend to show me. I kept messing up but not as much. I continued to practice even more at home.

I also needed to practice my shot so I forgot about the move. It took time for me to improve. It’s still not perfected but now the ball goes in the net more often. I’m proud of that, but not about the back-hand trick I still needed to perfect. During a practice game at school, we were winning and I felt the urge to try out the back-hand trick. Rather than passing it to myself I passed it to the other team. I was upset and happy because even though I passed it to the wrong team, I still did it! During a real game at the park I tried it, and this time I passed it to myself, drove in, and scored! Ever since then my skills have increased. At the all-star game I tried it and got it. I did it many times throughout the game and I felt like a better basketball player.

PUSHING PAST FEAR

JAMES T.

Have you ever experienced a time when you were frozen by uncertainty and fear? I would like to emancipate myself from being afraid to try new things or move on. When I get adjusted to doing anything, I’m afraid to change or start something new again. When I first entered high school I was accidentally placed into tenth grade rather than ninth, which I later realized contributed to ideological oppression.

I knew this was a mistake but I never addressed it to the school. So I started making new friends and taking all these classes with sophomores. Later my parents notified the school about this and I told my parents to not tell them, that this was fine because I was already adjusted. I was afraid of the change, I didn’t want to start over again. Eventually I had to be transferred during second semester to my now official ninth grade classes. If not, I would eventually have had to retake all ninth grade classes to receive credits for that first year. I was new to everything and everyoneexactly what I didn’t want was happening to me all at once. My first day in class I was the new kid. I had one of these gut wrenching, stomach twisting feelings inside me. Throughout the time in class I was searching for a coping mechanism. I looked down at my shirt and was inspired by the Nike logo. That helped me adjust and change my mindset. Whenever I face something challenging I think to myself, “Just do it. Get through it.”

THE WAY I AM AARON M.

I need to emancipate myself from being lazy and not doing work. I want to do work but I feel like I always mess up and people expect more from me. I started taking school less seriously when I felt like people stopped caring about what I did and gave up on me. They would tell me I was going to fail anyway.

I also stopped caring when people would put me down by making fun of me and being nice to me only when they wanted something. I felt stuck in school with people who didn’t care about me and I didn’t care about them. I had a few friends but I still felt alone. Nothing mattered, including me, because I barely had anyone to talk to. Everyday was the same and life was repeating itself and becoming dull and frustrating. I was getting nowhere and I remained a nobody because I was always getting treated poorly.

I started hating school because kids would talk bad about me. I wouldn’t want to go to class because I was scared of what they would say next. That’s also why I act out; I mess with people because I don’t want to feel that way again. I don’t want to talk to or be nice to people who don’t care about me. They talk about me just to argue with me and make me mad. I’ll either ignore them or threaten them if they keep bothering me. I’m bigger than most kids and I’m a lot stronger, so I’m not really scared of kids trying to fight me. I actually like fighting because it feels like a rush and I feel stronger.

Growing up in Boyle Heights isn’t easy, but for the most part it’s been fun. My family was always close when I was younger but now we barely see each other. We never had a lot of money but we always had what we needed. As I got older I noticed my parents argued a lot. Sometimes it would be really bad and I would get scared. Sometimes it wasn’t that bad and I could sleep at night. My mom is supportive of most things but can be really judgemental. My dad is mean-looking and wants things to be his way. They both never know when to back down and just stop arguing. This is another reason why I don’t care much for school, because too much happens at home and I feel weird the next day. I know I’m smart and I

could do the work my teachers give me, but I don’t know what to say at times. When it’s something personal, I don’t feel comfortable sharing and expressing how I feel because I think I’ll get judged and people could use it against me.

This year has been a pretty good year. A lot of things have happened and I’ve met a lot of people who I wouldn’t have talked to last year. I still have a lot of issues with school but I’m working on them. As we speak, I only have about five minutes until this is due. I hope to fix my problems in the near future and pass my classes so I can graduate, go to college, have a good life, and not have to worry about money.

SUCCESS THROUGH DEPRESSION OMAR C.

“You’re going to fail my class and you’re probably not even going to graduate middle school.” This is what my Computer Science teacher said to me. I felt offended and mad, like I was a bomb full of anger, ready to explode. Since I don’t like to fight or be violent, I stood calm and tried to process everything he was telling me. The next day I thought, “How am I going to pass in a month and a half? Why is he doubting me when he should be motivating me and not bringing me down?”

I don’t really blame him because I was slacking off and was doing little work. I played games and talked a lot. I was worried so much because I thought I was going to fail and my parents were going to be very disappointed. I started telling myself, “Do your work and try to prove him wrong because you could do it.”

Although I was slacking off, playing games, and talking, the real reason why I was doing poorly was because I was in a depressed mood. I was heartbroken by love. I thought I had actually found it. Before all this happened I was happy, at that time I was with my girlfriend. I always waited for her in the morning to see her and hug her. She missed three days of school and I was worried. She told me she was going to come back. I waited weeks for her thinking she would but she never did. I found out she moved schools and I was heartbroken because I couldn’t see her and she never told me. Later on I found out she was dating someone else while I was with her. When she broke up with me I felt like I’d never find love again. I felt so unwanted and sad. I felt like everything was empty and my soul was taken away. She told me she wanted to breakup and I asked her, “Did it not mean anything to you, all those things we did together?” She answered, “No, it never did and I can move on.” Leaving heartbroken, I didn’t know what to do, I just cried.

What made it worse was I didn’t want to tell my parents, and I tried to be okay. I had to be happy in school and at home but inside I felt dead. I was depressed, crying in my room all day, not wanting food, and being distracted. I was lost. I tried to do work but it was so hard to move on. I

forgot about her eventually, but it still affects me sometimes. Don’t you hate when you give someone everything, do everything they ask to make them happy, stay with them when they need it the most, then get betrayed? Life can be really cruel sometimes.

One month later my grade was a D-. I could have graduated with that but I knew I could do more. I did my work, asked for help from my friends, and every weekend I went to the library to finish more work. During the last week of school they gave me a paper saying I was going to graduate and also receive a medal for “Most Improved” because I went from a failing grade to a passing grade. That same day I also got a letter informing me I got accepted into College Track, a program that will help me get ready for college and give me money for doing well in my classes. It was the best day of my life.

I was on stage with my gown, my diploma, and two medals. I was going to find my Computer teacher and laugh at him but I didn’t care because it was my time. My whole family was proud. I was really proud that the same motivation I got from me and my family prevented me from failing middle school even though I was going through depression. Now I know to never give up and be more careful not to trust anyone that much. No matter who tries to put me down, I’ll prove them wrong and will be successful in my future.

JOURNEY THROUGH SEPARATION JORGE

R.

When I was eight years old, my mother and father decided to separate. Although I don’t remember much during these times, I remember how the separation was very difficult for my dad. He struggled to find a babysitter for my younger sister who was one year old. While my dad took care of my sister and I, my mother moved in with my grandparents who lived in Seattle, Washington. My mother shared that there had been many problems in their relationship; that is why she left for an entire year.

Growing up without being around my mother on a daily basis was challenging. Although I got to see my mom on the weekends I still had to do many things by myself. I had to wake myself up super early for school because my dad had to be at work. After a couple of months I went to Seattle to visit my mom and spend quality time. We would go out and the weather was foggy and the streets weren’t as busy as they are in Los Angeles. Everything was so different in Seattle, some days it would be cloudy and foggy and some days it would snow. On our way back home my sister would scream at me while looking out the window, “Hey Jorge, look at that!” It was nice spending some time with my mom, but after thinking to myself I realized that home, with my dad is where I wanted to be.

Despite my mom not always there, my dad was there to take care of us. My dad is about my size and tan like me. He is as humorous as a clown and always finds a way to make me and my sister laugh. He is a strong, caring, and protective of his children. My dad took really good care of my sister and I by feeding us and caring for our needs. He also spoiled us by buying my sister and I whatever we wanted. I remember every weekend my dad would treat us to pizza. I would be excited because my dad wasn’t a good cook and any food was better than his. Eventually his cooking improved a lot and we didn’t have to rely on pizza to enjoy our everyday meals.

Growing up with my dad taught me a lot of lessons. He would always tell me, “Si no estudies te quito los aparatos.” “If you don’t study I am taking away your electronics.” This taught me to do my work not only because I did not want my things taken away, but because I want a good job. I want

to be able to pay my dad back for everything he’s given me.

My childhood situation reflects resilience because although it was an unexpected setback, I have persevered. I’ve continued with life and now I am succeeding. I am a good student, a good brother, a helpful son, and a good friend. I learned from this experience that just because you face some difficulties in life doesn’t mean you can’t overcome them.

WHAT’S IN A GIRLS MIND?

JASMINE L.

One summer morning I was shaken back to reality from my dreams of cotton candy and unicorns. My strict-yet-beautiful mom yelled at me to wake up and pack my clothes. I was exhausted, I got up in my pajamas and my beautiful hair a mess. I was rubbing drool and eye boogers away while questioning what she told me. “Jasmine, come on! Hurry! They’re waiting for us.” My mouth finally opened and asked, “Mom, who’s waiting for us? Where are we going?” The only thing that answered me was the struggling sound of clothes being rapidly put in a bag. I hopped into a van, playing as if the floor was lava.

An hour into the ride and it was getting hot like a dragon’s pit. I was waiting for some delicious, savory food but all I got was chapped lips and a dry mouth. I finally gave up and started asking more questions. “Where’s Dad and Grandma?” With a sturdy voice, my mom finally spoke up and answered all my questions. “They’re fine, they’re home. We’re going to Bakersfield to stay with your other grandma.”

Although I was young I knew what that meant. After seeing Parent Trap I knew a little bit about divorce. I was worried that my parents were getting a divorce and I wouldn’t be able to see them together anymore. Tears started pouring down like Niagara Falls. I was in suspense and didn’t talk through the whole trip. I was moving to Bakersfield with my mom and leaving my dad in Los Angeles.

After this whole thing happened, I started doing things on my own and I faced my own fears. I was hospitalized once because I wasn’t breathing right. All this happened in two years. People were in and out of my life until I had enough and didn’t like being “home.” I would get bullied at my new school for being the new girl. I felt like everything was falling apart. I would cry during phone calls with my dad because I didn’t like where I was. I kept hoping for what I used to have with both of my parents.

During this time in my life I struggled with trust. I had lost trust for my parents at this point. They weren’t there for me as much as parents should

be. They had to work all the time to save money. I would be at home waiting for my mom to come back home sweaty and exhausted from picking grapes in the fields. My dad would only see me on weekdays and bring me food, clothes, and supplies I needed for school. I just wanted them to understand what I was going through even if I didn’t show it. I wanted them to listen. I didn’t know who to believe or who I could open up to about my problems. I kept things to myself and constantly asked, “Who should I trust?” I was just tired of this new life.

The day came where my dad and grandma finally had full custody of my brothers and I. I came back to the neighborhood where I grew up and took my first steps. I had my whole life back together again with one big part missing. My mom was still back in Bakersfield. I started school again here in Boyle Heights but would also get bullied because of my weight and the way I looked.

My mom came back on Christmas Eve, 2012. Now in 2018 we have a mother, daughter, big sister, little sister, best friend to best friend relationship that anybody outside of my family or small group of friends would know about. She saw what was happening to me and what they were doing to me. She ended up changing my schools and that’s when I met new people. At that school I also met my two childhood best friends, Linda and Brianna. My mom has helped me through a lot, through thick and thin, as a mother should. She knows the problems I face and helps me with them if they’re academic or personal. Now she’s my right hand, my one and only momma. I am now at a steady pace; I’m not giving up when it comes to classes I failed, and I’m trying to recover stronger than ever. Whenever I feel like I’m not where I’m supposed to be I look back and think, “You could’ve have been in eighth grade. If anything, you showed them you’re smart, girl!” I know I’m not the best at things but I try my best to do good and to do better.

From my childhood to now, I have changed my ways. I told myself it should take time to trust somebody. I should not just open up to somebody who doesn’t even know the names of all my siblings. I was inspired by what I want in my future, and with who I want to be with in my future.

There are other people who have gone through worse and became stronger than me, and I completely respect that. That’s why it’s best to be good to everybody and respect people, you never know what they’re going through. It’s also good to be nice and respectful because there’s a concept called karma. If you’re making fun of or bad-mouthing what someone is going through, it might happen to you too. My experiences have taught me that our health matters and our problems matter, because every problem has a reason why it happened. If you want the problem to end you have to reflect on what it’s doing to you and what you could do to end it. Face your fears, even if you’re at your lowest point in life or it’ll simply come back and bite you.

STRUGGLING TO OVERCOME THE FEAR OF STRUGGLING

ANONYMOUS

It was a bright sunny Monday in Boyle Heights. I had just woken up from my ten hour sleep and I heard the birds chirping outside. I felt pretty hyped because baseball tryouts were that day. Baseball was the first sport I ever played as a kid so I decided to give it a shot. The tryouts were pretty early and I was changing into my baseball clothes as slow as a turtle. As I finished up I smelled pancakes and ran downstairs as fast as a road runner. The morning felt so far so good, I was charged up like a battery.

We went down to the park in our red car through a busy freeway, so crowded we could barely move. At the tryouts I saw all the other kids hitting baseballs far away. Everyone got called into groups to start the tryouts. I saw all the looks on the other kids’ faces and they were nervous like me. We started throwing baseballs around, and later started batting. I was so happy to be able to play with the group of kids. Tryouts finished one hour later, I was so tired and out of energy. My mom came up to me in her bright green shirt and told me, “You did a great job. Have a positive mind.” We were in the car and I saw some kids playing soccer. Most of my family likes to play soccer. At that point I thought to myself, “If I don’t make the baseball team then this sport looks like one I can try.”

One week later my mom and I went back to the park. This time the freeway was not that busy. We got there and I saw the whole list of people who made the baseball team. I was anxious to see if I made it but I didn’t see my name. I was so disappointed, I thought I made a great performance at the tryouts. I thought to myself, “What else does it take for me to make this team?” I was really sad that day but I remembered soccer tryouts were going to be in three weeks. If I couldn’t make the baseball team, why couldn’t I try out for the soccer team?

Throughout those three weeks I was learning how to play soccer. I would really struggle with it and get angry at myself because I thought I couldn’t play this sport. I practiced at home and at the park- I wanted to be better. The day had come. The tryouts were on a Wednesday. It was a pretty cloudy day, good weather for tryouts. I was ready and so was my mom because she

was going to accompany me to the park. My mom is supportive in everything I do. We arrived at the park and it was as crowded as a fair- and this was just for soccer tryouts! I saw kids who were better than me in every way. But that didn’t stop me from giving these tryouts my best. The day ended with me tired and just wanting to sleep.

After that day I felt happy. Two weeks passed and I wanted to see who made the team. I went to the park to check on the list and I saw the one thing I wouldn’t expect, my name! I was so happy to have made it on the team. It would be my first time playing soccer. Months passed from that day of tryouts and I would be playing games mostly on weekdays.

But there was a point when I felt that I was too bad at soccer, even though I made the team. I would be struggling to play good games because I was not mentally good. I tried holding this in for a while as I kept playing but I eventually told my mom. She came and sat next to me and told me something that I always tell myself when I feel down, “Always be yourself. You can go far in life by believing in yourself.”

To this very day I still play soccer, and I won’t ever stop until I become a professional soccer player that plays for the best team in Europe. My mom is my motivation and her quote is one thing I always keep within myself. Now, I don’t struggle as much because I learned how to play soccer in the best way possible. Now I’m ready to face situations that make me feel very uncomfortable.

FIGHTING AGAINST ALL ODDS ANGIE S.

When I was a kid I never knew what martial arts was. One day I was watching TV and I came across this show. I don’t remember what that show was but I remember they were fighting. The way they kicked, punched, and blocked amazed me in so many ways. I never knew such sport could exist. After watching the show I searched it up and a lot of videos and information about martial arts came out. I then decided I wanted to learn one type of martial arts.

I didn’t know how to tell my parents because I thought they were going to say no. A few months later I got the courage to ask my dad and he said it was okay for me to try it out. One day he came home and showed me a flyer that said, “Villas Taekwondo 3.” That same day we went to see it and it was just like I imagined. I signed up, they gave me my uniform and belt, and I went to try it on. As my teacher was putting on my belt I felt like I was finally somewhere I belonged. Training Taekwondo changed my life.

Taekwondo taught me that success is never easy. I’ve been beaten up in a fight by people trying to prove I wasn’t good enough. The day I got beat up was bad. I got kicked and kicked until I fell on my knees. I wanted to fight back but I couldn’t get up. I kept telling myself, “Get up, Angie. Get up!” Once I got up I felt a little light headed but I still knew what was going on. Once I was fully standing the fight started again and I got kicked in the face in less than five seconds. I knew I couldn’t continue even if I tried, so I ran back to tag my teammate to jump in and fight for me. As I was doing that, my opponent ran and kicked me from behind and I fell to my knees once more. I was able to tag my teammate and they continued the fight. I was really disappointed in myself that day but there wasn’t anything I could do. I never wanted anything like that to happen to me again. I didn’t want to feel less than others. I knew I had to be a better me and to try my hardest no matter what.

It’s been four years now—almost five—that I’ve been in this sport. Taekwondo has made me into the person I am today. I feel like I am strong mentally, emotionally, and physically. Throughout these years in my life I

have come across obstacles that have tried to bring me down. I’ve been cussed out and told I won’t be able to do something but I’ve tried not to let that get in the way. It has also made me a very independent person. I have learned how to control my anger and sadness, and I have learned how to do things for myself. This sport has made me humble and I appreciate what it has done for me. Don’t let the little things get in your head; try to be a better you everyday.

A PATHWAY OF CHANGE

PERLITA R.C

Hot sun from a sunny summer in Boyle Heights, East Los Angeles. It’s 2012. I am nine years old, knowing so little of the world. I’m at my dad’s work with my little brother, Danny. We’re there because my mom isn’t able to look out for us because she’s too ill. She’s sick at home, set up in her room on what looks like a hospital bed. I didn’t knowit was more than just a fever. At nine years old I just knew she was sick.

I received the news that I never thought I would receive. My dad went to talk to his boss then came back in a few minutes and said, “Vámonos!” I was confused. It wasn’t time to go home, we had about three hours left at work. We stood up, walked to the car and got in. The car ride was an awkward silence yet quiet like the tranquil sky. My dad looked at us through the rearview mirror. He said while taking deep breaths trying to hold back tears, “Tengo algo que les tengo que decirles a los dos.” He continued with such a hurt voice, “Quiero que sepan que lo que estoy a punto de decir es enorme, así que prepárense. Quiero que tengan en cuenta que sus hermanas, hermano, y yo estamos aquí uno para el otro.” I knew for a fact it wasn’t good news at all. “¿Què pasa apà?” I said asking nervously. He looked both of us in the eye and cried, “Tu mamà se fue al cielo.”

When I heard that my body felt like I was going down a broken roller coaster. My mind, heart, and body were just drained. My heart dropped to my stomach. I looked at Daniel and he looked back. It was as if I was staring straight into an abandoned dark room. He looked at me and started to cry. When I saw him cry, I let all my tears go. As my father drove to our house, Daniel, my dad and I held hands and prepared for the worst moment.

We finally got home and I saw my mom laying on her bed. She looked so peaceful, like all the struggles and pain she was going through were finally off her shoulders. It was such a scary feeling. I stared at her and it looked like she was still breathing, but I realized it was just me wanting to see that instead of what I was actually seeing. My brothers, sister, and my dad all gathered around. We hugged each other just like my mom would when we

needed a hug from her. We were all shaking and crying with so much pain, still not understanding why it had to be our mother.

My mom had passed away. This moment had changed my life. I felt scared, I was still a child. I was barely learning how to clean, cook, and look after myself. Entering the real world was a huge step for me because I no longer had a woman role model to look up to. I was just thrown in, I didn’t have an easy way into the real world. I have three older siblings but they had their own family. My dad was by my side but being the only girl in the house was tough.

The following year I was a rebel. I didn’t want to listen to anyone. I would get in trouble at school, disrespect my dad and anyone else. I didn’t want to talk to anyone and I was constantly mad. I locked myself away from the people who truly loved me and were just trying to be there for me. I started to hang out with the wrong people and I had lost myself. I didn’t know who I was. I was depressed and I thought hanging out with these people I called friends would make me feel better- they didn’t. I was in a very social toxic situation. They wanted me to try smoking. They wanted me to ditch school. So that was exactly what I did because I thought it was the only way to feel better. I guess I just wanted to fit in. One day I got caught smoking at school and they called my dad.

When my dad found out about all of the things I had been doing, his face was just sunken with disappointment. “¿Por què, Perlita?” he asked me. “You’re such a smart person. Why do you want to just throw away your life like that? You want your little brother to follow those steps?” he said with such disappointment. I felt like I had failed him, my little brother, my mom and most importantly myself. I was so disappointed because my mom would never have wanted me to become that person. My mother was a strong woman, she was always positive and always thrived for the best. She would always tell me I was going to do big things and that I was a strong young lady. I had no idea why I stopped following the path she showed me. Her guidance was the only thing that brought out the best in me. I will always look up to her. Her legacy is a huge part of my life. She took a part of me but left something so special behind.

Almost a year later I started going to counseling. It helped me in so many ways. I learned things about myself, like how I love to dance to Mexican music such as norteñas, banda, corridos and more. It helps me forget all the things around me. Counseling also helped me get through the five steps of grief. I was able to talk about my mom’s death and I learned to accept it.

Don’t get me wrong, it still hurts more than the day she passed away. I miss her. I have to deal with people telling me,“I’m sorry.” But why are they sorry? It wasn’t their fault. I don’t have someone to talk to who understands how I truly feel. I can no longer make a card for Mother’s Day. Instead I buy flowers to take to the cemetery just to have them dry up and get thrown out by the workers. I don’t know if there is an afterlife or if she could really hear when I try to talk to her. I have to deal with the fact that I can’t ask my dad questions every girl usually asks their mother. It’s really hard living without a mom.

After all the counseling I’ve decided that in high school, I was going to do better. I also learned how to clean. I started paying attention to my dad’s cooking so I can cook for us and help out more so he could rest when he gets home from work. I joined the LAPD cadets program as another step to help me become mentally and physically stronger. Being in the program has helped me figure out some parts about myself. I’m glad I’m no longer on the road I was on before. That would have messed up my whole life and maybe even my brother’s life too. I want to be a role model for my little brother. I know he can do big things as well. I never want to see him out on the streets up to no good.

I knew my mother would have been mad if I were to just throw my whole life away like that. She always wanted me to study and strive for the best so I wouldn’t struggle the way she did. My goal for high school is to get a high GPA and straight A’s. It is tough but it’s not impossible. Now I can see that going through my struggles made me stronger. I believe everything in my life happens for a reason. From this, I know who my real friends are. I will encounter people who will try to knock me down but I know I am a smart person.

Each day passes by and I miss my mom even more, but I know she’s always

around. I once heard a quote, “People who deserve to live, die. People who deserve to die are healthy as one can be” (Adrian Gutierrez, 2). Adrian Gutierrez was a student at Roosevelt High School. We both had a similar situation and I found his words really relatable. I always see the people that you least expect, go. I’m not saying her death was meant to happen but it’s always the good people who go.

I will always strive to be upbeat and positive even in the worst situations, just like my mother. Aside from my mom’s death, I’m happy for everything that has happened to me. It has made me the person I am today. I have a 3.7 GPA, my dad is so proud, and I am also proud of myself. I know my mom is too. It’s crazy how life works. Now I have good friends who help me do well. Life is good and I know at some point I will hit a very bumpy road but I could always keep going and try to make the best of it. Transformation requires growth and letting go. The more you look back at your mistakes, the more stagnant you become. Certain things don’t always work out and when they don’t, you have to move on to better things.

UNTITLED

ANONYMOUS

Before I came to Roosevelt I had good grades and a lot of friends at my previous school. Everything was perfect—at least that’s what I thought. My mom is very strict and she tries to protect me from a lot of things. What I didn’t know was that I could get hurt in my own home. I was living with my mom, my two sisters, my mom’s ex-boyfriend, and his father. My mom would take my sisters and me to school everyday but my older sister and I had to walk back home after school since my mom was at work and no one could pick us up. We lived pretty close so I didn’t mind walking after school.

When my older sister and I got home, his dad was home with his daughter who was taking care of him. My mom and her ex-boyfriend wouldn’t come home until later from work. If I had trouble with some of my schoolwork I would ask my mom’s ex-boyfriend for help.

The first time something happened was in September. I went in my room and I cried and cried. Tears ran down my face for what felt like forever. I felt like I was nothing. Only my older sister and his father were there at the time because my mom was still at work and my little sister was at her after school program. My older sister was sleeping and since my mom’s exboyfriend’s dad is old, he didn’t come out of his room. That was only the beginning. I thought he knew what he did was wrong. I thought, “Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m just thinking wrong.”

Then it happened again. I knew I couldn’t say anything after that. I tried to act normal because I didn’t know what he was capable of. I thought, “How much worse could it get?” but it got even worse.

I couldn’t keep it in anymore so I told my older sister what had happened. She told me I had to tell my mom and if I didn’t, she would. When my mom got home from work I told her. The first thing she said was to get in the car. He was in the restroom so he didn’t know we were leaving. We went to my grandma’s house. I cried in the car and my mom told me, “It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong but I wished you would’ve told me the first time.” I know it wasn’t my fault but I should’ve spoken up even if I

was scared.

This challenge affected my academic achievement because when I moved schools I started off poorly at Roosevelt. I had to catch up a lot since I missed part of the school year. At first I was falling behind and getting distracted by this big mess but now I’m getting my grades up. I can’t let the past affect the way I see things and people in the world. I have to move on and start fresh with my life. In my experience I learned a lot about myself, like how loud my voice is. Not loud in speaking, but loud in meaning. I also learned how much my mom loves me. I knew she loved me but she really showed it by not caring about anything else but my sisters and I. For others who are going through something like this, my advice would be to speak up. My problem was I spoke up too late, but better late than never.

WE RESIST

ANGELINA G.

LET YOUR TONGUE GO Expressions of Resistance

We resist the erasing of our history, culture, and our experiences by knowing our worth. The kids of 1968 rose from the concrete by being aware of what they deserve, organizing walkouts for equal school rights, fighting for education, and winning a battle against the school district with their demands. Thanks to the kids of 1968 we are now able to speak Spanish in classrooms and have our voices heard in education.

We are currently resisting against Roosevelt losing the culture that lies within the campus. We resist by painting murals that tell stories, decorating our walls to remind us how far we have come. We celebrate the 50th year of the walkouts, especially the Chicano Movement that transformed equality for minorities. The legacy of fighting the school system and fighting for a culture we claim has not ended. The roots of our people won’t die and won’t be forgotten. We resist the erasing of the people in Boyle Heights by fighting against gentrifiers.

We are aware of the poverty that lingers within our community. We see the people who lead and follow its shadow. We notice the unwanted rich people, privileged people, buying our low income properties and making a profit from our struggle. We notice the popular trend of living in Los Angeles but what gentrifiers don’t notice or seem to care about is that this is our daily life, it’s not a trend for us. We resist being erased by standing united; we don’t take outsiders trying to rewrite our history lightly. We resist by protesting and making it known we are aware of the changes that are happening and how they don’t benefit our people. I’m not afraid of change, I know my people aren’t either. We resist the oppression of being pushed out of our neighborhoods, seeing our neighborhoods become predominantly white because we’ve been through this before.

Our murals within our city tell the stories of how we have been forced to lose our culture in order to fit in with America and be a “model citizen.” Murals show our roots and differences and examples of how we are united. Murals share pictures with deeper meanings and although outsiders might not be able to understand them, we do. We understand the struggle, the

past, what’s to come, symbols, the pain, the joy.

We know what’s going to happen if we do not take a stand. We must resist by passing on our native languages; being a community and treating each other as family; having hope in each other; and using our culture as a benefit. We don’t hide who we are, we celebrate who we are as Latinos. We accept all the differences and unique aspects we have as individuals and as a community.

WHERE’S THE GOOD IN GOODBYE MATTHEW V.

Where’s the soul in a soldier

Where’s the good in goodbye

We live in a time where we speak in broken promises and want the things we don’t need

In the 80’s people imagined flying cars and a utopia for home

Nowadays we play with spinners and are stuck on our phones claiming we’re social

What if no kid ever had a magician as a parent and watched them disappear

What if we stopped teaching racism as a second language to our kids and taught them a language they’ve never heard before

What if there were no imaginary lines between you and the person you love

Let’s have our imagination spread like wildfires with all the possibilities for this world

Imagine everyone with a rainbow for a heart

We are all roses, beautiful but guarded

No more lonely days and fake smiles

No more shattered people taping themselves together

For once we can all live like kings and queens in castles from fairytales

Not slaves for someone to command

Let’s have the same rights, not lies saying you do when you don’t

You could get your happy ending instead of wishing you did more before you died

No need to count the hours as they pass

Time will count all the great moments you have

The stars are your hope because they shine bright

The sky is your joy because it never seems to fade

Your heart and mind are the only limits you will ever need

Let God be your guide

If God isn’t your motivation then take a step, walking a quarter mile at a time

What if we never have to let our fists speak for us

Let’s teach our boys what masculinity is; not hiding their emotions or acting tough

but being able to cry and be soft

Let’s teach our girls not to fear boys

Boys are not bayonets charging at them, trying to hurt them

Close your eyes and imagine paradise, with the tallest buildings and an open sky

Let’s be ten feet tall with stories, and not ten feet tall with pride

Take a moment to close your eyes

Imagine a guitar or drum set

Imagine them as weapons

An instrument can do anything a weapon can

An instrument can shoot into a crowd

But rather than take a life, it shoots a melody that brings life to all In the future these are weapons you could use to fight any war

Because there is no fighting

Imagine the joy in the eyes of kids when they never have to tell a lie or say goodbye

I am a Museum

With my trauma hanging on the walls

The rules are: don’t touch and don’t ask

Only so many people listen to the rules

My life becomes a canvas and pain is the paint

My mask has become a suit

A suit of lies and deception

With music being my only comfort and friend

I am the bully and the bullied

I am the cheater and cheated

I am the liar and the one who’s been lied to

I am the shattered hourglass wasting time

I am the broken speaker playing what I want to hear

I am a phone with a broken screen

I’m a chameleon blending in with my surroundings

But even now, I imagine a world where this doesn’t have to be

A soldier sells his soul to serve the country and purpose he is fighting for. But the country he fights for doesn’t even know his name. And every day someone has to say their final goodbye. As they say it a tear falls from their eye. A soldier has no soul, just as there is nothing good about saying bye. In the world I imagine a soldier is a fighter, not fighting a war but fighting for love and a life worth living; and goodbye is non-existent. The only time you hear it is when someone passes. You live a life you can die happy about. When you die people will smile and say goodbye, rather than cry and you wish there was more you could’ve done.

FORGOTTEN CULTURE

JAVIER G.

In our History books all that is written is the history of White people. In our History books there isn’t any history of Mexicans or African Americans; nothing about the Mexican Revolution, the 1968 East LA walkouts, or about Malcolm X. Our culture is being forgotten in society, the famous restaurants, and the famous murals within Boyle Heights.

One way we can have growth about our culture not being erased, is telling stories about our past and teaching it in school. We can preserve the history of Boyle Heights by making books about Boyle Heights, resisting against gentrification, or trying to save the murals in Boyle Heights. Some schools have the option to teach Ethnic Studies and a lot of kids from the past demanded they teach Ethnic Studies so they can learn about their history and culture. Now we have Ethnic Studies and we can learn more about our culture and know more about ourselves. Ethnic Studies also helps us not forget who we are and what our culture is. This can fall into institutional oppression because when the school system segregated schools, they didn’t want Mexicans to speak Spanish in class or let them learn about Mexican history. In the future I think every student at Roosevelt High School should be able to learn about their culture and their past, about their ancestors, and how the Mexican Revolution or Chicano Movement started.

Boyle Heights should also resist gentrification because White people are moving in and that can affect the community. They will raise the rent and the people of Boyle Heights will have to leave. They will most likely take off famous Mexican murals and restaurants that are within Boyle Heights. They can erase all of the history of Boyle Heights; the 1968 Walkouts for equal education, who the founder of Boyle Heights was, and how the community’s daily life was. Boyle Heights is known for the amazing Mexican food and restaurants. It is also known for the great music that the mariachi plays at mariachi plaza on 1st St. We need to keep our culture alive so the people of the future know what we had. Some things we can do in order for Boyle Heights to remain alive with its history; we can resist gentrification and let the people come together to keep the history and culture alive. We can also have more cultural events and let more artists

paint more murals so we can remember the past. We can take pictures so Boyle Heights can always be remembered. We can also teach the students in Ethnic Studies to be more resilient so they can resist change in Boyle Heights. The rent prices should also go down so the people who made Boyle Heights the way it is stay, so the culture can continue to stay alive in both the people and community.

BREAKING THE SHACKLES OF INJUSTICE

STEVEN G.

I live under the authority of old fashioned customs, in a patriarchal system, in an unfair structure that I call family. I endure the pain of feeling as if my father does not love me, and that he’ll never accept who I am. He’s constantly arguing with me on how a man should stay a man, and a woman should stay a woman. He preaches that homosexuality is the most disgusting form of love. I can’t come out to him because of the simple fact that I don’t want him to be disappointed or not love me, although part of me knows that his love for me is endless because I am his kin. I go about my days putting on a smile, trying to make the best of this life I’ve been given. In the back of my mind, thoughts of my father linger. The idea that my father may be suppressing his true emotions prosper, and that he may believe that it’s ultimately his fault that I’ve ended up the way I am. I don’t like seeing my dad hurt or angry, but I don’t want him to bottle up his feelings either.

One day, my mom had taken me to my dad’s to pick up something I had left at his house. It was a beautiful afternoon to say the least. We were cruising by Garfield High School in my mom’s car, probably blasting some corridos. I was rocking my monochromatic burgundy windbreaker, matched with simple folded mom jeans and a white tucked-in shirt. My mom pulled up in his driveway, and then we saw my dad, his wife, and their baby approaching the car. My dad put on the usual “serious/mad face” he puts on to assert that he’s not a force to be reckoned with. My dad is a short husky guy that always wears black Dickies with an 80s band t-shirt like Joy Division. His face has scars from his past, which can make people feel intimidated.

I began to mentally prepare myself for what was to come, because I knew it wouldn’t be good. He rested his hands on the car as he began to state everything wrong with me. “A guy shouldn’t be wearing clothes from the girls section, no matter how boy-like it looks.” he claimed. This baffled me, I didn’t understand why I wasn’t allowed to wear clothes that fit me better or that I liked more. Of course, my dad was raised to believe this, so I did understand why these words were coming out of his mouth. Already utterly

annoyed, I defended myself with a little attitude in my voice. “Why not? They’re literally just pieces of fabric. It’s not like I’m going out and buying booty shorts and crop tops. God, how stupid.” I crossed my arms and legs and put on my mad face. I don’t recall what he said after, but I know he changed the topic to homosexuality, transexuality, and insisted that the LGBTQ+ community are just people with undiagnosed mental disorders.

This enraged me; my dad is a real expert when it comes to riling me up. To top everything off, he brought my Mom into the argument by asking a straightforward question. “Yvette, is being gay okay?” I expected my mom to defend me, but she decided to take an alternate route. “No, and I’ve told him this time and time again.” She has never told me that gay isn’t okay; she just didn’t want things to escalate. I felt alone, if your own parents could do you wrong, then anyone can. This is the day I realized that no one gives a shit about you, and at the end of the day, the only person you should have trust in is yourself. I was furious that this was my reality. Blinded by my anger, I began to swing my hands at him without even thinking. He grasped my hands as I tried hard to release myself. My emotions were all over the place. I was in despair, and I was way past my breaking point.

Happiness is the key to living a good life, and I can’t seem to get a hold of it. How can I be happy if I’m not allowed to prosper as a human being? No one can help me battle the oppression I’m facing; only I can help myself. My one fear is that I’ll crack under the pressure beyond recognition, and I won’t be able to help myself anymore. My father told me himself that he could not change who I am and he wasn’t going to. Surprisingly, this was all I needed to give me a sliver of hope for the future. I’m not going to fall without at least trying to fight, because what’s worse than failing is never trying in the first place. I need to fight the oppression I face in order to live the life I want. No one’s going to stop me from achieving my dreams.

BEHIND MILES AND MILES OF SKIN

LIZZIE R.

As a dark-skinned female, I am given a label because of how I look. Judgment follows me like a shadow. The only thing is, this shadow doesn’t disappear at night. No one really knows who I am because a different version of me exists in each person’s mind.

They judge me based on my cropped shirts and my face that carries art; who I hangout with; and whatever rumor they hear. People can be so naive, so quick to believe everything they hear. It’s as if someone is always watching me. I can’t overdress because I’ll hear whispers in the hall; the halls that look like a dark tunnel I wish I was out of. The whispers echo in my head, “Why is she trying so hard? She looked better yesterday. Why is she wearing that?” They play endlessly in my head just like my favorite song, only this time I want it to stop. I try following people’s expectations maybe because I want to fit in, maybe because I don’t want to stand out.

I find it funny when society tells me to be a certain way and as soon as I express myself, society stabs me in the back. It catches me off guard when I least expect it. Sometimes I let it get to me. I fall to my knees and drown in people’s comments. I have strings of stones attached to my hands and legs that pull me down and I can’t get up. I try to, but it’s as if the air I am trying to breathe is killing me faster. I scream, I cry for help but I’m just an abandoned whale on the seashore taking its last breath before it falls into deep sleep, not knowing what’s going to happen next. I don’t want want to hide anymore but they don’t know that part of me; what’s behind my colored skin. They just look at what’s on the surface. They don’t know that the concealer under my eyes is what hides the storm I poured on my pillow last night. They don’t know that my thoughts are behind my fragile skin. I keep them buried inside of me in a tomb full of secretes.

Since when did shimmery eyeshadow, red lips, a flawless face, and perfect eyebrows become the definition of beauty? What about inner beauty and natural beauty? I don’t want my beauty to be expressed through something artificial that gets wiped off at the end of the day. I want to be a sunflower in a pile of red roses. I want my inner beauty to show through the

outstanding words that are spoken from my tongue. From my unique personality to my beautiful nose freckles that no one sees because they are hidden behind what society calls beauty. I want to define my own beauty.

VIVA LA MUJER HAYDEE O.

People think women should wear a dress

And when they don’t, they look like a mess

People make women feel less

With what they wear, their feelings are expressed

Everyone thinks they know what a girl’s dream is But now, girls’ dreams are extreme

Like building a jet stream

They are too hard to believe

Every now and then women wear sweats

And when they do, it turns into regrets

So they turn to cigarettes

What’s with men and all their control?

Women also have goals

Women work hard everyday

Come home and cook all day

And don’t even get a thank you bouquet

Women are not meant to be in the kitchen

Men would know if they switched in

Women are works of art

Which really defines their heart

Girls hide their beautiful face

With makeup being the reason they get chased

Mothers are the reason girls have self-esteem

So girls go and find their light beam

They don’t listen when others say, “Mujeres solo sirven para la cocina”

Because mujeres stick together and never let go

TREAT US WITH THE RESPECT WE DESERVE ELENA

Dear Future Men,

Believe it or not, equality between men and women is getting better. Now women have a voice in politics by getting the opportunity to vote. There are women’s marches and now women can work in the same jobs as men. But are we treated as full equals? For instance, women have been getting paid 30% less than men in the UCLA cafeterias for the same job.

Personally, I have spotted several acts of misogyny—hatred of women— around me. Wanting a girl to do all the work in a group because they felt more powerful, or offending women verbally because of the belief that women cannot say anything back, are all forms of misogyny. I have heard boys at school talk about girls as if we were sexual objects. I hear them giving us names like “hoes, thots, sluts, and whores.” Recently I have felt misogyny when I was cheated on and used by someone who I gave my all to. This person got me caught up in his lies and he did not feel any empathy towards my feelings. Since I am a girl he thought he could take advantage of me. One of the ways he took advantage of me was when he got touchy and I made it clear that I felt uncomfortable.

Sometimes you realize you actually don’t hate women but you fear our power. Although you can identify as pro-woman, deep inside you’ve internalized the patriarchal society you were raised in that makes men feel as if they have more rights than women. Boys, please don’t get a gentlemen confused with a misogynist. You may do things for females because you do not want them to be bothered, which is being a gentleman. On the other hand, you may offer to do something for a woman because you don’t believe they can do it better than you can. If that is the case, it means that you believe a male can do everything in the world better than a women can— no matter what it is. If you believe a woman can only do the cooking and cleaning better than a man, I am kindly asking you to leave the 1950s. Women have been evolving during the years, as in using more of their freedom and being powerful. Some guys these days don’t seem to like this behavior. Men who are misogynists have been physically and verbally

abusing women because they do not want women to succeed. Misogyny could also occur in career choices because men who are misogynists do not believe women could work in male-dominated fields. Women who want to become architects, construction workers, or businesswomen, are being brought down from their goals and aspirations in life because they are being told that it is “men’s work.” Women are expected to become nurses, teachers, maids, and every other low-paying jobs.

I am asking you future men, to support a woman’s power instead of bringing it down. Men can support by changing their negative actions towards women and by treating us with the respect we deserve. I would also like you, future men, to support women in order to make a change in history. Most historical figures at the moment are men. If women start to be more encouraged by men, there could be an increase in women historical figures in the future. Imagine a world with no sexism or misogyny; women and men would be seen equally powerful and there would be decreases in rape, sexual assault, women violence, etc. In the future I hope for men to have a better point of view of a woman and her capabilities.

Sincerely, Elena

DEAR CURRENT PRESIDENT OF 2018,

My family and ancestors are Mexicans-a surprise right? You and many other “superior” figures think of my family and I as inferior. Maybe you thought we couldn’t read or write either. But we are neither naive or dumb. My family comes from a line of sedulous Mexicans, both male and female. For past generations they have worked hard day and night, through freezing winters, under the blazing sun, during sickness or not feeling emotionally well. They had dark bags under their eyes from working late hours they don’t even get paid for. Their fingertips became rough from doing their co-workers’ work because they were too lazy, or “couldn’t do the job.” My family was left to do the job that wasn’t even theirs.

But you with your “perfect family” and wealth in the palm of your hands; you and all the other people in government make it hard for my family to be resilient. To you we are a minority. We are taught to live by the philosophy that we are inferior. Of course what you don’t see is the many studious Mexican teens and children. We have goals and aspirations for ourselves yet you make people believe the only thing we are good at is working until our hearts give out, or being incarcerated just because of our dark skin.

I will resist you and the things you stand so strongly for: White supremacy and xenophobia. Because of you, my people and I continue resisting the four I’s of oppression: Interpersonal, Internalized, Institutional, and Ideological oppression. Assuming you don’t know what these oppression terms mean, I will create a picture for you.

The first, Interpersonal Oppression is when a boy tells another boy, or girl, “You [do something] like a girl!” It’s sexist which is part of what makes it interpersonal, but also the fact that it’s a verbal saying. Why is it bad to do something like a girl?

The second, Internalized Oppression can be explained using the children’s movie, Frozen, as an example. Queen Elsa started believing her powers made her a monster, and releasing those powers would cause her to hurt the people in her kingdom. She was never truly able to be herself or learn

to control the gift she had because she was so afraid and shunned away from acceptance. Although we don’t have powers, this is what you are doing to us. We stopped trying to be better than what we are. We were told to believe we are only criminals and that a bad future is the only thing that lies ahead for us. Institutional Oppression is the districts or state giving the wealthy communities better buildings and supplies for their schools. You and the state are dragging us down, making it close to impossible for us to even get a proper education. It’s what you do to prevent us from getting away from our suffering.

Lastly, Ideological Oppression, is everywhere. You have used this oppression against women, so this will be easy to explain. What was it you said? That you can just, “grab women by the p––?” It’s sickening, and makes us women feel ashamed and disgusted with our bodies. It makes us feel like objects with the sole purpose of pleasure for men. It makes us afraid as well because we don’t know what will happen to our own bodies, especially when our own president says men can do what they please. It reduces our self value. We are oppressed by the school districts, your peers, people who doubt us, and you.

However, I will show you all that any one of us is as good enough—if not better—than any of you. Our journey will be hard, filled with struggles and feelings of insecurity. It will cost us lots of money and dedication but after all that, we will persevere. We will prove you wrong and show you just how hard we can fight back using only our humble, cultural, and dedicated spirits.

Although changes need to be made, I will commit myself to making them. I will become confident and strong. With this confidence, I will achieve. I can show you our true potential and tell you as well as others, “No. This is who we are. We are not what you make us out to be.” I also need to achieve greater things like participating and striving to accomplish what you seriously doubt we can do. On June 30th of 2015, you tweeted, “Mexico is not our friend. They’re killing us at the border and they’re killing us on jobs and trade. FIGHT!” Do I know exactly what you meant by fight? No, but I assume you mean keep us out by a wall and still make our country pay. It’s really unfair. In fact, a little history lesson for you: this injustice has

happened before. Native Americans trusted Christopher Columbus. They confided in him all their secrets and wealth, and he betrayed them. He killed them.

I used to confide in my presidents too. I trusted every decision they made and put my life into their hands. Then you became president. You took away my sense of security and reassurance that everything would be okay, and I could trust the people who are supposed to protect me. That’s where your people and my people are different. My people do not, “kill you on jobs.” We earn them just like everyone else; along with the right to keep working and gain the respect of others. My people don’t intimidate others like you do. My student peers and I strive to be the best of the best. We will stay resilient no matter how much you try to tear us down.

When we change this, all our futures will change and you will stop doubting us. We are all greater than what we believe ourselves to be. We are all greater than our suffering. Our suffering is the oppression we face and the stereotypes that are constantly put against us. Our doubts may begin with you but they end with us. We will show the world who we are because only we know.

Sincerely,

A Mexicana from Boyle Heights

LET YOUR TONGUE GO

LILITH KØHLER

Dear Future Self,

Do you remember all the times you couldn’t do what you wanted like ballet, because our parents wouldn’t let us? Do you remember how excited you were to go figure skating but our older sister said it wasn’t worth it? Do you remember how much you have cried because she always crushed your dreams? How have you grown? I question myself why I suffer in a place people love so much. That place is home.

Do you remember what our mom said about gay children being the bad apples in a good tree? Have you come out yet? Did mom really disown you? If she did is it one-sided? Do you still call, text, or send letters? I want to know how it went because right now I am living in a cloud of shame. I really hope you have freedom and still aren’t chained to Mom. I always hated how she wanted us to be under lock and key. Are you happy? I hope you are because it would be sad if you weren’t. Are you still living with mom? With all my heart I wish you aren’t because you probably are being oppressed.

Do you get angry when you think of the house you grew up in? How do you feel now that you can express your opinions on politics or anything you are passionate about? We never had that growing up. One wrong word would give us a lecture. I remember my safe place being the beach as it was peaceful without Mom telling me how lazy I am. Do the words of our older sister still affect you as much as they hurt me? She says I’m filth, living in a mess, a pigsty, lazy, unproductive, useless-the list goes on. I don’t know why my parents are so keen on the idea that keeping me inside will make me obey them. If anything it makes me hate them more and want to do more harm. I still hate words like lazy, useless, and imbecile. Those words hurt me more than they should. What words hurt you the most?

Do you ever get sad thinking that our little sister intervenes with our life? We could never go to the beach as a family because she would get sick. We couldn’t get a pet because she had allergies. We couldn’t do anything that

would get her sick. I hate that they’re always looking out for her. I want that attention, that protection they give her. I get angry when I try talking to Mom and the guys get in the way. It could be two in the morning and little brother walks in and talks to Mom, or Dad would yell and get involved. I learned to hold my tongue. Have you learned how to let your tongue go? Are you still cautious with your words? I don’t know much about myself but I want to know I am loved.

Do you have friends? I don’t. It sucks because I feel so left out. I know I’m always picked last and no one would ever choose me first. I get depressed thinking of how people only come to me when they need help; when they don’t need help I’m invisible. I wish I had someone to talk to and have fun with. I hate being alone. I wonder if people don’t talk to me because they hate me. I don’t know how I got that idea but after being ignored for years. that seems like the correct answer.

I hate the community of Boyle Heights. All the community talks about is religion and how we are being oppressed. The Hispanic community isn’t the most important thing that’s being oppressed. People here are such activists. I don’t want to express my opinions about the community because people will say, “It’s the way colonizers make you think. It’s the White people who control your thoughts.” If it really is the White people, then you just said my opinion is wrong. Everything else I say is wrong. People need to start letting others share their opinions. Even if you get offended, let them. I can’t tell you how many times I have been told to keep quiet.

I am here writing this because I want to express my opinions. Writing and art allows me to express myself. I may not be the best artist or writer but it’s the only way I feel free enough to express everything I hate about the community and its over-activist motives. Yet somehow even art and writing is wrong. My parents and other adults have told me it’s solely a white thing to draw or write stories. Even my stories based on my dreams of freedom are wrong. I write to keep myself from feeling too locked up or chained down. My tongue is locked and people in the community want to lock my hands in chains to not be so creative. My art is my expression of the world. It seems sad but you chose to read this. You can think my writing is powerful and inspiring but it is my opinion. I have to let go of my tongue.

The community of Boyle Heights—mostly elders and parents—have told me I waste my time drawing. They say it is a waste of money because my art is terrible. People in this community despise anything new. The community protested against an art school by where I live. They said it was for White people but they don’t seem to realize we are bordering the art district and are surrounded by art. People tell me to stop drawing because the way I draw isn’t traditional Mexican art, it is a mixture of Asian art and many other art styles. I get so ignored it makes me feel like I don’t belong.

I hate the community because my parents are the loud Christians who scream to get people to convert and pray. The community ignores by saying we have freedom of religion, so it doesn’t matter if they are loud. My parents say Christians are being religiously oppressed. They don’t support gay marriage or gay people in general. That’s religious oppression by saying something or someone is wrong and should be killed because God says so. The Bible was written when people were extremely homophobic. Religion no longer matters. Why can’t people respect each other? I hate the entire community because it’s so loud. You can’t walk two steps without someone shouting. I want out of the community and start anew; away from everything and not have to worry about the neglect.

Do you know why I am writing this to you? I don’t want to forget what I have grown to be accustomed to. I know not to trust people as they tend to hurt you the most. Why do people vent to me about personal info? I don’t care about others. I learned to care for myself. I don’t give personal information to others but somehow I feel at home writing to you. Can you feel the pain I suffered at the safest place people call home? I don’t want to forget. I know it is not going to end well for me. I have a gut feeling that I will be a disappointment to my parents more than I already feel like I am.

Are you what Mom calls to be her dream daughter? I feel so much stress to be that dream daughter. I hate being molded into a category and told by Mom that I’m not perfect. I’m not supposed to be like Mom since I am my own person. Do you still know how it feels? Every time I protest and bring up my right to freedom of religion, Mom says she wished I was her perfect daughter. I’m not her dream daughter because I’m not going to cause my future kids to hate themselves. I will teach them how to respect others and

always express how they feel instead of holding their tongues. I will teach them that biological sex and sexual orientation doesn’t matter. I’ll tell them they are perfect just the way they are. I hate every part of me because it’s not what my mom considers perfect.

I’m always ridiculed for how I look. Do you still get ridiculed for your looks or personality? I hope you don’t because I don’t want to live in self hate. I try really hard to stay positive. I try not to notice my flaws and focus on my best aspects but it’s hard when you are constantly reminded of them by the people who aren’t supposed to hurt you. I will never be like them; I refuse to tell my kid they’re useless or lazy because words hurt. I won’t have my kid live under my roof with a cloud of shame.

My mom says I’m cursed if I don’t believe in God and the future generations will do poorly. How bad can it be if they taught me to marry a male; not speak my truths; keep quiet about my opinions; and agree even though I disagree, to show White people we aren’t like they make us seem. How would people react if they saw how cruel my mom is to violate our rights? She acts like a good mom in public but on the inside she is waiting to tell us about how God hates gay people.

Future me, how are you really? I know I lie a lot—I do it to get out of trouble and still live with the people I am always being oppressed by. Maybe I am lazy and useless. I know it probably isn’t true because I know I’m awesome. But it’s been told to me for all my life. Yes they say I’m precious but their hurtful words make me question if they love me or love to criticize me. Yet here I am also criticizing the way my parents raised me. I swear I will teach my kids to be more open-minded. I’ll teach them they can love anyone even if someone out in the world considers it wrong. I imagine my kids teaching this to their kids.

I want people to know me for who I am and know I’m not perfect but that’s okay. If we were all perfect we’d be boring and no one wants that. The words sting but in a few years it’s up to you to decide whether you will cause the cycle of hurt to continue or rise and be better than you were before. If you continue the cycle you cause the future to fall more into hurtful criticism. If you choose to rise, you create a better future. We all

must join hands and not forget our roots because we need them to live. The only thing we can do is to improve, accept, and teach this positive way of life to shape the future. I’m sorry I ranted.

Your past self,

Lilith KØhler

THE OUTCAST

ANONYMOUS

Have you ever been bullied before? I have. In fact, one of my most vivid memories of being bullied was because I’m JW. For people who don’t know, JW stands for Jehovah’s Witnesses. It’s taken me so much courage to say that right now.

Let’s go back to the first grade in 2010. I was always ashamed of sharing that part of me. I never wanted people to know who I really was because I was already an outsider I didn’t want to feel like even more of an outsider. One morning in class, the principal announced on the speaker to rise for the Pledge of Allegiance. I stood up but didn’t salute because it’s against my religion. A couple of girls noticed and asked me about it during recess. I was frozen; I felt every single drop of my blood rush to my face; my ears were getting really hot and my heart was racing. I stood quiet for a couple of minutes until the bell rang. I felt so bad for not being able to speak up but I knew they wouldn’t understand.

Things only got worse from there. My teacher was aware of what I was because my mom had told her. The next day the girls asked the teacher why I didn’t rise for the flag and the teacher announced it in front of the whole class. I remember the anger and tears running down my face. I couldn’t move. My body was stiff but my eyes were so watery, all I was able to see were blurry figures staring at me. Throughout the day people kept questioning me so I decided to answer. Maybe I could make them understand who I really was. But things didn’t go the way I thought they would. The name calling and segregating began. My classmates excluded me from everything. I went home crying to my mom everyday, saying I hated who I was and what I was in. Wiping away my tears, my mom told me, “The world will never understand who you truly are but don’t listen to the opinions of others because you will start to believe them. It’s okay to be different. Just ignore them, mija.”

The next day before arriving to school I told myself, “Today, if anyone asks you anything just ignore them. You’ll get through this day just fine.” During recess I was sitting on the bench watching everyone play, balls flying all

over the playground, kids screaming and arguing. I noticed some girl walking up to me and I remember thinking, “Great, another girl coming to make fun of me!” The girl stood right in front of me. She was kind of tall with long black hair and she told me, “Hi, I heard what everyone is saying about you.” I stood silently and gave her a quick glance before putting my head back down. I was like a puppy with its tail between its legs, and its head down in fear. But then she said, “I used to get bullied for it too, you know.” My eyes lit up with joy, knowing I wasn’t alone. I asked her, “You’re a JW too!?” “Yes, of course! Do you want to go jump rope?” she responded. I was glad to have made a friend who was like me and accepted me.

Whoever is going to be reading this in the future; it’s okay to be different from everyone but don’t be ashamed of who you are and your beliefs! This event impacted me pretty roughly. I was ashamed of who I was and what I believed in for a very long time. It’s good to be different because without it this world would be boring. You might not find people who accept you now, but in the long run there will be people who will accept you and like you for who you are. Don’t let anyone change your beliefs. I’m glad I didn’t let anyone change mine.

RESIST

ROBERTO R.

May 24

Dear Diary,

I remember the first day the beast roamed the school corridors searching for its next victim. It would feast its razor blade fangs into the flesh of the mortal students. From the moment school began to the moment school ended, its victims would go home extremely angry and loud. Kicking and screaming were side effects to the beast’s attacks. Before I got the marvelous opportunity to meet the wretched beast personally, me and my friends heard awful things about it from the whispers during nutrition, “What the heck was their deal? They’re the worst!” and my favorite one: “Rodent.” I, of course couldn’t say that vulgar language about it… yet. You’re probably thinking, “What are you referring to? Is it a lizard-person from the government? Is it a giant monster from Greek legend? Or is a character from a Stephen King novel?” No, it was even worse. It was my substitute teacher.

To give some context, my previous science teacher got a promotion to work at a different school and I think his new title was principal or something small like that. Personally I didn’t like his teaching style so I was phenomenally ecstatic when I found out about his sudden resignation. But little ol’ me had no idea what we were getting into.

November 16

Dear Diary,

Oh my God! It’s been three weeks and everyday she has done something to make me go home and complain to my parents about her. She is absolutely screwing over any and all students she can. She purposely loses students’ work or tells them to start a five paragraph essay at the beginning of class, to be due at the end of the 56-minute class period. Anyone who didn’t finish would get an automatic zero on the assignment. Her ridiculous

mentality is, “If they don’t do it to perfection they automatically get a zero.” After all of this, no one has the courage to tell her something… until now. I’m completely fed up with her ridiculousness. I have a vague idea of what I’m going to do, but if I act now it’s going to be detrimental to my plan. It’ll be set into action when the time is right….

I had outstanding grades (as my attention to detail is meticulous) until I saw my A for Science drop down to a C. I immediately thought, “I’m ready to strangle the beast that challenges the fierceness of Cerberus itself!” I’m incredibly pissed at Hades but I’m going to have to suck it up and walk into its classroom and sit down.

November 17

Dear Diary,

Halfway through the day I needed to ask the joke-of-a-teacher for help so I raised my hand and kept my hand raised for five whole minutes. She saw me, I know she did because we made eye contact. She was quite bluntly ignoring my obvious attempts to get her attention. I asked my partner the question that sparked the chain reaction which lead to the decapitation of Medusa. The advice he gave me was “clap,” and I did. I finally got the attention of the beast. I asked my question and she didn’t answer but tried to insult me and make me feel dumb.

It called me up to the desk where it resides and asks in its chilling voice, full of pure contempt and resentment, “Were you the one who clapped to get my attention?” I, of course, am a good student, so I wasn’t going to lie to It. I simply responded, “Yes?” What she said next opened Pandora’s Box and it didn’t want to see inside. It told me, “Ok. That will give you a zero in your grade.” I lost my mind! I started to yell at her, “Call my mom!” When It demanded that I return to my seat I yelled, “May God have mercy on your soul!” Since she is the same religion as me, I was hoping to trigger her a lot- oh honey, did I complete that mission! It sent me outside to speak to me and ended up calling my mom. Even though she said she doesn’t take orders from me, she did exactly what I told It to. I went home and told my mother about this experience. She wrote a letter to It and I have to deliver

the note personally tomorrow. Now, do I think I could have handled the situation better? Yes. Do I think the way I reacted was called for? Absolutely.

November 18

Dear Diary,

Today infuriated me more than any other day I’ve ever experienced. All I did was walk into class, hand It the note, and sit down. I started doing the lackluster warm-up and halfway through I get interrupted by a tap on my shoulder, the feeling of someone behind me, and the overwhelming feeling of a dark essence floating to the left side of my neck. I turn and I see It, looking into my eyes. For a second I legitimately thought I saw the intense bloodlust in its eyes. It told me, “You’re changing seats to that seat over there.” It was pointing to a seat at the back left corner of the room. I refused to stand up but It kept insisting for what felt like hours. Finally It stopped insisting and said, “I’ll just have to write you a referral and send you to the principal’s office.”

At the principal’s office, I sat for about ten minutes (but it felt like ten years) before being called into the master’s chambers. When I sat down we began to discuss why I decided to act out. I started spilling the tea like it was raining. I say it was twenty minutes of pure discussion before I heard something that threw me completely off guard. I heard a voice coming from the main part of the office. It sounded like mother. I asked the principal, “Is that my mom?!” before going to investigate. And low and behold, my mother stood at the office desk talking to the office attendant. “Robert?! What are you doing here?” she said. All I had to say is “She sent me to the office,” and I saw the blood lust in her eyes. She went to the principal on the spot and talked to him without me in the room.

May 24, 2018

Dear Diary,

Suddenly it was fixed! My mom got the beast out of the classroom. To this day, I honestly don’t know exactly what happened in that room. After this

happened, kids still didn’t believe that It was gone until the Monday after Thanksgiving. Right after first period, I ran upstairs to look inside the classroom and see who was operating. When I saw her my heart sank to my stomach. I ran to my second period in tears of joy. I saw the true savior of eighth grade, Mrs. R. She had the most perfect way of teaching ever. She made my final year of middle school absolutely fabulous!

I did everything in this story so I could set an example for my fellow classmates. I want other kids to see my act of bravery and get inspired to stand up to someone even when it is someone that has more power than them (i.e. a teacher). That is and always will be my legacy. I don’t want to be another SoundCloud Rapper or like another Handmaid. I refuse to be forgotten so I go down in history for being the first student at Hollenbeck to oppose a teacher for an actually good reason. In hindsight, I see that It was oppressive towards my peers. It used Its status as a teacher to completely manipulate Its impressionable audience and that, honestly, is the main reason why I spoke up.

RECOGNITION

Thank you to this year’s volunteers who dedicated their time to supporting our students through each phase of their writing. The impact of your commitment resonates in the confidence our students embrace as published authors.

Alejandra Gomez

Anya Leta

Emily Rauber Rodriguez

Eric Hiss

Isaac Weingart

Kaya Haig

Kevin Manning

Lacey Schauwecker

Leah Gonzalez

Maria Lennon

Mary Becker

Michael Flores

Miguel Camnitzer

Monica Castillo

Nima Ghomeshi

ABOUT 826LA | 826LA.ORG

TUTORING

From Monday to Thursday, students attend 826LA for free individual tutoring in all subjects. Once homework is completed, students read books from 826LA’s library and write stories based on a monthly theme. Students submit their writing for inclusion in chapbooks, which 826LA publishes throughout the year. To celebrate students’ hard work, 826LA unveils these chapbooks at book release parties, where students read their work to thunderous applause from their volunteers, families, and peers.

IN-SCHOOLS

Because not all students can come to us, 826LA brings specially trained volunteer tutors into under-resourced public schools. There, volunteers provide one-on-one or small group assistance with writing projects. 826LA works with teachers to craft all projects, which are designed to engage students while targeting curricular issues. In addition to visiting twenty schools in the Los Angeles Unified School District each year, 826LA has additional sites within Manual Arts High School (South Los Angeles) and Roosevelt High School (Boyle Heights), called The 826LA Writers’ Rooms.

WORKSHOPS

826LA’s workshops bring students together with artists, writers, and professionals for creative collaboration. Whether the subject is journalism or preparing for the zombie apocalypse, our workshops foster creativity while strengthening writing skills. This includes two long running workshops, our reading development workshop Barnacle’s Bookworms, and our Journalism workshop.

FIELD TRIPS

During the week, 826LA invites public school teachers and their students to our writing labs to participate in a morning of collaboration, creativity, and writing. Whether Storytelling & Bookmaking, Choose Your Own Adventure, Memoir, or Personal Statements, field trips at 826LA support teacher curriculum and student learning by offering a safe space for students to be their most imaginative and to work on their writing skills. In a few short hours, students brainstorm, write, edit their work, and leave with something tangible—a bound book or a revised essay—as well as a renewed confidence in their ability to tell their stories.

BOARD OF DIRECTORS

Jodie Evans, President

Henry V. Chase, Treasurer

Susan Ko, Secretary

Matthew Cherniss

Ben Au

Dave Eggers, Emeritus

Terena Thyne Eisner

Scott A. Ginsburg

Claire Hoffman

Louis Lucido

Frankie Quintero

Sarah Rosenwald Varet

Eileen Shields

ADVISORY BOARD

J.J. Abrams

Judd Apatow

Miguel Arteta

Mac Barnett

Steve Barr

Joshuah Bearman

Amy Brooks

Father Greg Boyle, SJ

Stefan G. Bucher

Mark Flanagan

Ben Goldhirsh

Rebecca Goldman

Ellen Goldsmith-Vein

DeAnna Gravillis

Spike Jonze

Miranda July

Catherine Keener

Keith Knight

Krystyn & Al Madrigal

Tara Roth

Katie McGrath

R. Scott Mitchell

Lani Monos

B.J. Novak

Miwa Okumura

Jane Patterson

Keri Putnam

Sylvie Rabineau

Sonja Rasula

Luis J. Rodriguez

Terri Hernandez Rosales

Brad Simpson

J. Ryan Stradal

Natalie Tran

Sarah Vowell

Sally Willcox

YOUTH ADVISORY BOARD

Echo Park

Gabriela M.

Natalie S.

Jose R.

Genessi L.

Vincent H.

Gabriela R.

Josue R.

Dayanara M.L.

Ana M.L.

Yamilka M.L.

Samantha J.

Mar Vista

Nadia V.

Nasim Z.

Michael R.

Mirna R.

Vanessa A.

Katherine G.

Montserrat L.

Joel Arquillos Executive Director

Marisa Urrutia Gedney

Director of In-Schools Programs & College Access

Beatriz Garcia Director of Programs & Operations

Shawn Silver Director of Advancement & Events

Nadia Bamdad-Delgado

Senior Programs & Writing Manager, Echo Park

Lauren Humphrey Institutional Giving Manager

Cheryl Klein Development & Communications Manager

Mariesa Arrañaga Kubasek Volunteer Manager

Carinne Mangold

Store Manager, Time Travel Marts in Echo Park & Mar Vista

Rachel Mendelsohn Design Manager

T Sarmina

Program Manager, Writers’ Room at Manual Arts High School

Mike Dunbar

Senior Programs & Operations Coordinator, Field Trips in Mar Vista

LaTesha Adolphus

Program Coordinator, In-Schools

Cynthia Aguilar

Program Coordinator, Tutoring in Echo Park

Angelica Butiu-Coronado

Program Coordinator, Writers’ Room at Roosevelt High School

Rebecca Escoto

Program Coordinator, Tutoring in Mar Vista

Pedro Estrada

Programs & Operations Coordinator, Tutoring & Workshops in Echo Park

Cecilia Gamino

Program Coordinator, Workshops in Mar Vista

Cathy Mayer

Program Coordinator, Field Trips in Echo Park

Jennie Najarro

Volunteer Coordinator, Mar Vista

AMERICORPS VISTA MEMBERS

Wendy Alvarado

Volunteer Coordinator, In-Schools

Maricruz Pool-Chan

Volunteer Coordinator, Echo Park Paula Quiroz

Marketing & Communications Coordinator