I am only a quarter Hispanic, but I identify as Latina. Many of my formative years were spent in rural Texas close to the border of Mexico. Several times, Mexicans who had just crossed the border would appear, dirty and tired, from the brush outside my house. They would ask for help, and I would run inside to find a loaf of bread, and a gallon jug to fill with water. After we parted ways, I would pray that the border patrol would not see them, and that they would survive the desert’s heat. Years later, when I was old enough to understand what the racial slur “wetback” meant, my heart wept with sadness.
When I was nine, I moved to Uvalde, a small town in southwestern Texas. The city had a population of around 16,000 with a large Latino community, about 90% of students were of Hispanic decent. I wore my last name, Solis, as a badge of honor, proof that I was just like the other children. I wanted to be 100% Hispanic–– I was, and still am, proud of my Latina heritage.
This week marks the beginning of a new challenge for many Americans. As the president-elect assumes office, some of us will take to the streets and march for human rights, equality, and social justice. Some will take a stand for inclusion, and others will “fight” for underrepresented minorities.
The country is politically torn in half; however, find comfort in the impending chaos because we are on the brink of a revolution, and YOU know what the foundation of a strong community is––love.
We are in this together.