Election Day: The Experiment of Democracy

I remember the day I learned that Spain had lived a Civil War in the 20th century, and I remember learning that the country had been ruled by a dictator, Francisco Franco. I was 10 years-old sitting on my Spanish grandparent’s floor the summer of 2005 watching T.V. as my Abuelo repaired something that had broken. A preview of the documentary that was going to be aired that evening was playing, and I was confused. “Spain had a Civil War, Abuelo?” I asked. “Yes, mi niƱa. It was an awful war…” I was stunned. My beautiful country had lived those horrors? My grandparent’s parents lived through poverty and famine? Even family members were shot and killed for fighting for the Second Republic. I recently learned that my Spanish great-grandmother, for the rest of her life, lived in fear of running out of food in the house and kept a cupboard filled just in case.

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My Many Identities: Speaking More Than One Language

I know we all have different versions of ourselves. We have the version of lounging at home on the couch, we have our social selves and we have our work persona. But when it comes to speaking more than one language, I feel like I also have different identities.
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To the Woman That Taught Me to Travel

On Saturday, August 5th, my mother finally accomplished one of her biggest dreams. She graduated from the University of Purdue (it’s ok, I guess I can allow being rivals only for university – I am a big Indiana University fan). This was a big day for my mother, someone who has sacrificed so much for others. Continue reading “To the Woman That Taught Me to Travel”

A Beautiful Mess

Give me 6-12 months in a new town or city, my mind will start to think about the next city to live in. It is a habit, something I cannot help. I noticed it the last move, between Oregon and Indiana. I absolutely adored the suburb I lived in outside of Portland, the friends I had made and the high school I went to (my teachers made going to school worthwhile). Then when we arrived to Indiana, I cried for months. Why had I agreed to move when I loved home so much?

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