reclaim your voice.
Today I visited my Aji; that’s what I grew up calling my father’s mother. I asked her if she knew my name and who I was. This had become a regular, albeit woeful, game my family played with her. She was diagnosed with dementia a few years back and ever since I’ve stood by; complacently…
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I don’t know why I seek validation from the one who only sees me as a number, from the one who reads my name simply as a word with no life attached to it. I don’t know why I seek validation from a society who shushes away cries of change, telling those cries that they’re…
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Time is everything. Time is nothing. Time is the invisible that is tangible, told through seconds making minutes making days. Making up lives. Lives revolve around the clock, moving closer and closer to an end. The end of a day with a beautiful sunset or maybe a night where everything turns to darkness. Mine ended…
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Some of my colleagues and I received an e-mail from the Diversity and Inclusion committee at my workplace, also my alma mater, titled “FWD: Policy on micro aggressions”, asking for feedback. I read the few pages, and all the micro aggressions my family, my friends, and myself have been subject to (and we too may…
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A society constructed on artifice. If we collectively elevate the superficial and champion those people valued solely in terms of vanity and social standing, what remains tangible or real? The clones are carefully constructed personas, self-assured of their uniqueness. We learn to individualize the blank slate of an online presence, refining and buffing our narcissism,…
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You find it more vile that The child who was defiled Had the right to save her life And the man who ripped her innocence to shreds walks free while she suffers with carrying a life she didn’t ask for? And the woman who fell in love Is not ready to bear the weight Of…
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A dry desert<insert rain>free of acid on my tongue diffused into my skina part of my soul streams jagged rocks interrupting the flowheart like a sand block waiting to erode to be free I wish to see the desert after it rains,-to see life sprout from it again. _ (Featured Photography: Javier Arcenillas)
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lip-kits thick with identity politics curves and thighs commodified as if they haven’t been desirable since the sun’s first shine on the Hollister skin trending back in the day well money doesn’t define worth ads and photo ops don’t make it all better look closely at the composition question do they stand there fettered? chained?…
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Your Mother tells you you are as sweet as sugar Your father calls you a spunky little diva You are beautiful Little Brown Girl Ready to conquer the world Love the skin you’re in Love yourself from within Your natural hair is excellent the way it is Rock your Afro with pride Don’t fall in…
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