Time for some emotions 

Am I strange for scheduling time for when to feel things?  I was on phone earlier in the week with friend in Chicago. We were catching up, since we haven’t seen each other in about two weeks, and I was telling him about how     I felt sad, but was not going to actually “be sad” until later.  To…

HOME for the summer

It’s been a week, and it’s almost like I never left The heat is draining the my energy to do even the simplest of things. Machismo is in the air everywhere I turn, slowly suffocating once again like smoke from a wild fire.  

Humanities Core Reflection

My first year at UCI was like being like dropped in the middle of the ocean panicking … and then learning to breath underwater to discovering a whole new world. The way I think has been constantly challenged, and clashing with the people around me. I’m very thankful to have been at UCI this year. The Humanities Core program has…

Power of Tolerance

It’s funny that this week the topic to write about is Tolerance. This week and idea has been on my mind quiet recently.  I was sitting in Humanities Core lecture questioning why someone would name a Museum about the Jewish Holocaust, the Museum of Tolerance. I have never been to the museum, but this title did not make any sense…

We are all Infinite

  Although he’s known for at least ten years, he cannot express in words a part of his identity, to the ones he loves the most.  His Mother and Father are Guatemalan immigrants who raised their family in the city of Lawndale in Los Angeles, California. Their neighborhood was not affluent, but growing up Byron Barahona never knew that, because…

Modern Coverture

We are one, but I am myself. Although my love for you is luminous You will never be my sun.     I am my own light and brightness.   When people see US they see A wife, a mother, a good girl. They see a man in you, The Man, the Provider, the Leader They distorted “US”, for YOU…

Flower on the Wall

Nobody knew what happened behind the wall, Even though it happened to me I did not know it at all.   The Mushy Mushroom on the pretty Wallflower Was never questioned, and will never answer For all he’s done   Quiet, close your eyes Give me your hand And squeeze right here   The wallflower knows now, what happened But…