El primero sin ti.
Han pasado meses, los días van volando desde que te fuiste. De un lado es posible, y a veces hasta fácil seguir sin sentir, sin reconocerlo. Tu ausencia la siento de vez en cuando, como una brisa, tan suave que a veces ni siquiera me doy cuenta hasta que me pasa por la cara, el pelo. Sin prisa, pero definitivo. Me lleva la brisa a esa herida que nunca se cura, a un vacío. Aun cuando no podemos seguir, el tiempo nos lleva cargando.
Y así llego a este cementerio y se que es hora, Viejo.
Con el rastrillo en la mano, a sacudir esta tierra enojona que al ser quebrantada cubre todo de nuevo. El cemento de tu sepulcro esta seco, el diseño del mosaico ya hecho. Todo para este Día de los Muertos. Día de homenaje para los que ya no están, noche cuando la memoria baila con la realidad. Read more
Op-ed originally published on October 23, 2013 – Fox News Latino
Perhaps never before has there been such a broad coalition and well-formed consensus on the need for inclusion of those who are undocumented in our country. Years of struggle, sacrifice, and unprecedented organizing have built momentum to force immigration onto the national agenda and Congress’ docket. Yet, even though legalization is inevitable, the outcome of its legislation is still and uncertain.
As frustration builds with the delay in Congress, more eyes are being cast to the President to take action on the issue. But pressure on the executive branch to use its authority is not a shift away from legislation or, as some have critiqued, a ‘giving up’ on it. First and foremost it is an overdue alleviation of unnecessary suffering. Secondly, it’s exactly the tactic needed to propel any legislation forward.
To pit campaigns for legislative reform and administrative relief against one another is a false choice. Successful social movements throughout history have always been defined by multiple forces, pushing on multiple fronts. Read more
The feeling…it was kind of like sitting in a hospital waiting room anticipating the birth of a child. But the reality was that I was standing tippy-toed, peering over a barb-wired cement fence trying to get a peep at Priscila the Undocubus. She was sitting sad in a tow yard. Aaaaand, maybe not as dramatic as awaiting child birth. Read more
Today I came ready to pick my dad up from the hospital. We wait for someone to make the call for his ‘check out’, it doesn’t come. Under flourescent lights in this room and the doses of morphine in his body, he doesn’t know what day or time it is. Both of us search the room for a way to pass the time. We discover behind the window blinds, a door and a balcony. I push it open and the sunlight bursts in. All of a sudden, it doesn’t matter what day it is. Lo natural he nods at me.
A breeze slow dances in the room. Satisfied, he arranges his a pair of glasses over his nose, back to the Crossword Scratchers game. He starts to sing under his breathe. Quieres escuchar música? I grasp for something to make him feel better, to shake this place up. He looks at me through the top of his glasses, pues siiiii. I ask him what he wants to hear, and he says whatever, and there we go with the back and forth. I figure, I can provide the Spotify, you gotta give me the name of the song your humming. He finally says, Marco Antonio Solis. The music fills the room, springtime day in room B418. And, a victory of 5 dollars with scratchers.
Originally posted on politic365.com
Despite the fact that political winds are blowing away from Arizona-style attrition politics, some officials in that state are determined to keep their tent staked in the ground, by hook or by crook. For those living under the shadow of Maricopa County Sheriff Arpaio, looking at federal immigration reform comes with a specific perspective and particular issues to be resolved. Read more
Few days in. Happy to be here. The situation is one that we are all getting used to. New Year rang with bad news of cancer back and spread, and even worse news from doctors that it was ‘terminal’. Walking my father to the doctor’s office, he is out of breathe after a few feet, we sit, take a break. Then it comes. Read more
On the phone, outside, pacing. Yes, I pace when I talk. And I smoke most times too.
Its early in the morning, raining, 30 some degrees. In my chanclas. And I’m walking in circles like the conversation I’m in, hoping I can remember the call once I hang up. In the back of my mind, a laundry list of things. I’m pacing around on this Seattle street, but in my mind’s eye I’m stepping over and around the heap of things called ‘to-do’ when – SMACK – Read more
Originally published on November 30 by Yes! Magazine
Most of the buses that depart from the downtown Phoenix Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) office toward the border between the United States and Mexico leave broken dreams and separated families in their wake. But this summer a different type of bus departed from that same city to promote a new ending to that story. Read more