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Dear America, election, Donald Trump, parenting, politics, racism, misogyny, bigotry, children, America, American values, xenophobia, America is great

This is an open letter to my dear America. I hope someone is reading and sharing and spreading humanity and kindness faster than the cancer of racism that is devouring the insides of our country. It is destroying us.

I just dropped the girls off at their first day of school and as I pulled away, I started crying. I was completely overwhelmed by a horrible feeling I know all too well. There was a lump in my throat and a knot in my stomach and it wasn’t the typical first day of school mommy blues that we all get but it was definitely not new.

It’s the same feeling that I’ve felt every day that I’ve sent my husband off to work since 9/11. It’s the same terrible, sick feeling that I’ve felt every morning at drop off since Sandy Hook. It’s the same fear I have every single time I’ve gotten on a plane knowing there’s a risk. Not because of heights or claustrophobia but because I know that we live in a world where extremists armed with hatred who think they are doing what’s best for them, are fearless and willing to die for their hate like the racists who descended upon Charlottesville, Virginia this past weekend armed with tiki torches and hearts full of hate.

I spent the past weekend camping in Michigan; one last getaway before the craziness of school scoops us all up and we can’t see past the minutia. We’re about to be swallowed up whole so I wanted a few days of unplugged togetherness, with the people who really matter to me in this world, my children.

Unfortunately, I still needed to be tethered to the real world because of work. I didn’t engage because I wanted to focus on what was right in front of me; what truly matters. I am trying to be present but I see it all happening, this train wreck at 100 miles an hour. Our country is careening out of control and our leader doesn’t know how and doesn’t seem willing to get us back on track.

Dear America,

I kept quiet and let my thoughts settle into coherent actions. But I’m tired of the burden of being a person who always does something. I’m exhausted of telling friends what they already know. I am sick to death of listening while the Internet feigns outrage and shock. I can’t keep giving people who believe themselves to be good, decent Americans permission to keep engaging in the same insanity.

See something. Do nothing. See it on the Internet. Feign outrage. Share a petition on social. Talk to your like-minded friends about the horror and pat yourselves on the back for recognizing that this is, in fact, horrible. 2 days later, forget about it. Forgive the aggressor. Accept the unacceptable as status quo. Move on to the next “cause”. Do nothing.

The time for placing blame has passed, it is now time to take accountability. Complacency is not an option. It never should have been, where human beings were involved. Action is the only acceptable reaction.

We shouldn’t be feigning outrage and shock. We should be genuinely outraged, shocked and pissed off. We should be moved to our feet by our hearts and our minds. We can no longer sit down while the aggressors mow through those of us who dare to stand up for the collective us. America, the home of the brave. 

It’s scary standing up. Those who love you most will tell you to sit down because they are afraid of the danger it brings to do the right thing. Standing up begs to be knocked down but we must get back up. We must endure for if we do not take a stand, we will all be mowed down and our land of the free will not be so free.

Dear America,

I am not blaming you for any choice or vote you cast up until this moment. You know what you did. Your choice is only for you to learn to live with. No one dared believe just how much hatred could breed when given the right growing conditions. But we knew. It has spread across this country like a plague and it is killing all of us.

What I am begging you to do today is to forget about who you voted for or party lines and think about your family, your future and the country that you love so much. The time to dig in has passed. We need to work together as Americans to fix what is broken.

I don’t want to weep when I drop my children off at school because I know that we live in a country currently fueled by hatred. I know there are so many good people in this country. Decent human beings who love their families, their neighbors and their country. The bad apples are in the minority. But they are eating at this country like cancer. Their movement is spreading because it is not being treated. Racism is a cancer that needs to be eradicated.

Dear America,

Stand up. Say something. Do something. Be something. Racism, bigotry, and hatred cannot be tolerated. We need a zero tolerance and we can’t forget. Embrace your outrage. Flame it’s embers and let it fuel you to do the right thing; to stand up to those who would tell us that any human is less than another. Forget what is politically correct and do what is right.

What are you doing? How are you stopping the hate? How are you putting love and kindness into the world? How are you standing up for what is right in the face of what is terrifying?

What action are you taking for your dear America?

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LAPD, Christian Dorscht

On Tuesday, an off-duty LAPD officer fired his weapon during a confrontation with a 13-year-old Latino boy, Christian Dorscht, who had allegedly “walked on his lawn”. That was enough to set off a chain of events that could have left one child dead for simply being a teenager. As a parent, what would you do if Christian Dorscht were your child?

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Super Bowl, immigrant, immigration, Mexico, border, the wall, Desierto

Ever wonder why an immigrant, illegal or otherwise, really comes to the United States willing to risk his life? Maybe that question is too big, maybe we narrow it down, ever wonder why my dad came to the United States? Contrary to popular belief, it’s not to take anything from you.It’s more about admiration of the freedoms we have and the will to succeed; to achieve the American dream. The freedom to work hard and get ahead in life.

Then ask yourself, if you were desperate, and your child’s life depended on you doing something dangerous, would you do it? What if it were illegal? What if you needed to fast track things in order to save a life? Would you do it? I think we all know the answer is yes. we’d do anything for our children.

I’ve heard a lot of discussions online about immigrants and why many Americans don’t want immigrants here in the United States. People are talking about immigrants like they are not humans but has anyone ever just asked a real, live immigrant,

Super Bowl, immigrant, immigration, Mexico, border, the wall, Desierto

Hey, immigrant why are you here?

If you are not an immigrant, or the son or daughter of an immigrant, or the friend or loved one of an immigrant, maybe you just don’t know and I’m sure it is different for every single person. But I’m happy to share with you my immigrant story. How this freckled Mexican was born on the right side of the wall.

I’ve been quick to judge all of you. I was only seeing things from my perspective, the daughter of an immigrant; a first generation Mexican-American. I never even considered that there are actually people who don’t even personally know any Mexicans. They know of us, apparently our reputation precedes us, but they don’t “know us”; know us.

Super Bowl, immigrant, immigration, Mexico, border, the wall, Desierto

They’ve not grown up with us; eaten dinner at our home, been welcomed by my interracial couple parents and been kissed on the cheek and treated like family. They’ve not had the pleasure of hearing my dad, in his thick Spanish accent, look them in the eye, give them a firm hand shake ( even the most down trodden of our neighbors) and say, “Good to see you, buddy!” Never seen the way family is more than the people you share a last name with; never been willing to risk everything for those people.

They’ve never heard my dad sing Happy Birthday, Las Mananitas and You are my sunshine to my daughters every birthday or seen him grab them and start dancing with them whenever he hears music. They’ve never seen his giant smile and the way he says, “Sonofagun” any time his grandchildren do almost anything because he is so in awe of them.

They don’t know that my dad used to bring homeless people home for dinner that he’d see on his walk home from mass. My mom wasn’t too keen on this practice but that’s the type of guy he is. When he wants to, he’ll give you the jacket off his back if you need it more than he does. He’s the man who wore sunglasses when he walked me down the aisle so no one would see him cry, when he gave me away.

Don’t get me wrong, if you’re a long time reader of this blog you know that my dad is not perfect. He’s made mistakes but he’s also never been a drug dealer, a rapist or a murderer.

He simply falls into the immigrant category because he was born someplace else.

immigrant, hero

He’s the kind of man who has played the guitar in the church choir since I was a kid. He’s the guy who stopped drinking and now, devotes most of his retirement to not only staying sober but keeping others sober. But he is Mexican. He’s lived in the United States longer than he ever lived there. This is his home but Mexico is where he was born. Mexico is where part of my roots begin.

When all of the political mudslinging started during the campaign, I felt personally attacked because my dad is an immigrant and even though he is not perfect, he has always been a contributing member of society and he raised us to work hard, trust in God and respect our government.

Just because someone is an immigrant, doesn’t mean they are a bad person.

It just means they weren’t born here. They chose to come here. They choose America.

He’s a good man; a good Christian man who reads the bible daily, who has been married to the same woman for 44 years, who has raised 6 children and paid taxes to a country that he loves. The kind of man who plays in the sprinkler with his grandchildren. The kind of man who doesn’t want fame and fortune, he only wanted to be able to give his unborn children a better life than he had; maybe a house without dirt floors, maybe a life where the struggle wasn’t so real.

When people bad mouth immigrants, I take it personally. I feel like the country and the government that my dad loves so much, that we’ve been raised to believe is the best in the world, hated him simply for the color of his skin and by association me, my brothers and sisters and our children; the most precious thing in our lives; family.

The will to succeed is always welcome here.

Those were the words at the end of the Lumber 84, full 6-minute commercial, the one thought to be too controversial for a commercial during the Super Bowl. Those words spoke to me because I was raised by an immigrant who taught me to believe in myself and to know that where there is a will, there is always a way. My father is legal, but is that really relevant to the man he is?

That is all that my immigrant father wanted. The chance to be a member of our society; a chance to give his children a better life. He doesn’t hate Americans. He loves everything about this country. So what are we all so afraid of?

There’s been some confusion about the true meaning behind this commercial. I saw it as a beautiful thing but it seems I didn’t realize that a mother and daughter making their way to a better life is only beautiful if you come through the door. If you can’t find the door, I guess you’re just supposed to give up and live the life you’re doomed to live and I guess, according to Lumber 84, we’re all supposed to be okay with that.

Tomorrow, Desierto is released on DVD, I highly recommend that you watch it then maybe you’ll see why immigrants are more afraid of you than you should be afraid of them.

What’s the difference between the European immigrants that founded this country hundreds of years ago and the Mexican and Muslim immigrants who are trying to make a better life for their children now, besides the color of their skin? Then again, I guess it’s always been hard for immigrants.

What is the difference between an immigrant and you or I, besides a piece of paper?

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NoBanNoWall, resist, Trump, women's rights, censorship, muslim ban, deportation

The only option is to resist.

I have, literally, been trying to write this post since the day after the inauguration of Donald Trump but I can’t form my thoughts into coherent words because every day there is some new mind boggling executive order being passed down. What I do know is that we have to resist. We the people have to resist.We cannot go gently into that good night. The man is on the fast track to being a dictator the likes of Hitler, Pinochet, and Castro.

My mind has been having a hard time keeping up with everything going on during this first week of Trump’s presidency.My heart is heavy but my mind says resist. Resist the urge to lay down and curl up into the fetal position. Resist the natural response to drown in my own tears. Resist the wrong that is being inflicted. Stand up. Fight. Now. Use your voice.

I feel like we are all patiently awaiting the purge. Those who are complacent are part of the problem. Quietly disagreeing is no longer an option. We’ve gone way beyond that point. You must be prepared to stand up and speak out. You must be prepared to fight because your life is at stake. Your basic human rights are in jeopardy. This man is turning the United States into a sinking ship and we are all being held hostage aboard the S.S. Hate.

NoBanNoWall, resist, Trump, women's rights, censorship, muslim ban, deportation

I am a woman. I am a Latina. I am the daughter of an immigrant. I am the mother of a new generation of Latinas. I do not have the option of being quiet and not fighting. I choose action, for my father, for my children, for myself and for you!

Women, United we Stand and Divided we Fall.

Ladies, what are you doing? We’re fighting with each other over who should march and who shouldn’t. And while we’re not paying attention, the government is slowly putting its hands on our uterus while Trump is single-handedly stripping us of our basic human rights. If you are a woman and this doesn’t scare you, you might want to get a dictionary and Google Women’s rights.

NoBanNoWall, resist, Trump, women's rights, censorship, muslim ban, deportation

Resist the urge to turn on one another. This is the time for unification, not separation.

Marching was not just about the right to choose. It’s about the government telling women what to do with their bodies. How we reproduce. When we reproduce. How we feed our babies. How we deal with the loss of our babies. The punishment for not carrying a pregnancy to term for several reasons, including rape, incest, medical reasons and yes, even choice. It’s about men having domain over our bodies when we don’t give consent and even when we say no. It’s about women being treated like livestock and not humans. It’s about every single human being born with a vagina and a uterus.

Ladies, our daughters are watching.

NoBanNoWall, resist, Trump, women's rights, censorship, muslim ban, deportation

Photo via Instagram @LatinasUnited

Last week’s March was an amazing show of solidarity in a time of turmoil. The American women came out in powerhouse droves to stand up for their rights as human beings and their reproductive rights. Women across the world put everyone on notice that we are no longer going to stand silently by as the patriarchy treats us like second class citizens.

I’m still having a hard time understanding why our reproductive rights are a point of discussion at all. Why is it anyone’s business what we do with our bodies? How does my choice to do what I want with my body fall under government jurisdiction?

If men can justify this behavior and the right to have dominion over women’s bodies, why can’t we women make federal law on how men use their reproductive systems? What if we banned all the Viagra, imposed vasectomies on any man we saw unfit to reproduce and, just for shits and giggles, give every man a good lecturing about how he should not be masturbating because it is fornicating and that is a sin under God’s law? What if we made touching your balls without permission a sin punishable by jail time, just because?

You know what’s even more disgusting than men having their hands metaphorically in our uteruses, controlling how we use our own bodies? Women who mock the feminists, the marchers and the women fighting for equal rights for women. The ladies who stand on the sidelines and support a man who categorically believes you are a second class citizen.

You ladies are self-loathing pieces of shit and I wish there was a way that you could sign a petition to show your lack of support for women’s rights so that when we do get our rights fully and unequivocally, you can have yours taken away. Your body, your choice. You don’t want them. Hand them over. But, I’m not going to fight against you, my sisters, because I will fight for you and whether you know it or not, you deserve to be treated and paid and recognized as a full human.

I will resist my urge to abandon and mock you.

We have to stop fighting each other because our daughters are not equal to our sons, not in the eyes of the law. Not in pay. We are not the same as men. We are not equal. Sit with that for a moment, we.are.not.equal. Not under our government. We are second class, at best. Is that what you want for your daughters?

NoBanNoWall, resist, Trump, women's rights, censorship, muslim ban, deportation

Equal rights for others does not mean less rights for you, It’s not pie.

Censorship of the United States

We are being censored to our death. Since before the election, people who have defended their choice to vote for Trump have always prefaced it with,

“I don’t think he is actually as racist/anti-woman/homophobic/xenophobic/anti-disabled/anti-poor as he pretends to be.”

Apparently, none of these people have ever heard of the saying, “when someone shows you who they are, believe them.” Actions speak louder than words and your vote said everything.

Now, we live in a world of censorship where randomly shutting down U.S. government social media accounts that tell a truth that contradict the alternative facts, ignoring the press when they ask hard questions, shutting the press out and eliminating the transparency of the presidency, “alternative facts” and straight up lies are all acceptable behavior by our leader.

We are beginning to get only the news Trump wants us to have. Where was the coverage of the protests the night before the inauguration? The coverage of the women marchers and the #NoBanNoWall protestors? Trump even brings along his own people to applaud when he gives these unbelievable speeches to fool us into thinking anything he says is worthy of applause. It’s a tactic used to deceive us into believing we are misunderstanding because surely there would not be applauding for something so outlandish as the complete deconstruction of our government.

The man is playing the shell game with the American people, in one hand he is signing outlandish orders and while we are protesting he is quietly slipping Bannon, a known white supremacist, into his cabinet. The man is filling his cabinet, one-by-one, with less and less qualified people.

Trump is turning the United States into a sinking ship that he nor none of his cabinet know how to drive and all the American people are stuck along for the ride. His entire cabinet is made up of billionaires who are not qualified for their positions and who are so out of touch with the average American that it is ridiculous to expect them to be able to relate. Pay attention people, this is your life we are talking about here.

Resist like your life depends on it because it probably does.

We’re not paying for the fucking wall.

A few years ago, when I had my miscarriage, I got a bill for a few thousand dollars to pay for what the hospital referred to as a “Missed abortion.” To say I was insulted and hurt would be the understatement of the year. It’s like someone murdering you and you going to jail. The miscarriage happened to me. It was bad enough that I had to pay for it like it was a new bag or I got new a new nose or something but then to call it a “missed abortion” that cut like a knife. That’s about how the Mexicans feel about paying for a wall to keep them out. Are you kidding me? No, they’re not paying for a wall that so clearly puts them on the receiving end of the biggest insult the U.S. government could issue against an ally.

My dad is an immigrant who has papers to legally be here. He’s lived here for almost 50 years. That’s longer than he lived in his native Mexico. He is now retired and currently in Mexico, as he goes there for the winter months. I don’t even know if he will be able to come back, at the rate Trump is throwing people out. What if his papers get revoked? This is a very real and legitimate concern of mine.

Trump enacted the Muslim ban. If you don’t see the problem with this, then there is something wrong with you. Our government is actively detaining people at the airports and sending people back. People who have lives, families, and jobs here simply because their skin is brown and maybe, they don’t worship like we do. Saying all Muslims are terrorists is the same as saying all Christians are members of the Westboro Baptist.

I’m a Christian. I am Catholic under a pope who does not condone this Muslim ban. You cannot call yourself a Christian and disobey the fundamental teaching of the church to love your brothers and sisters as you love yourself. So to ban Muslims under the guise of Christianity is simply dressing your hate up as religion and it is not possible. The two do not line up.

America is a country born on the back of immigrants. The whole premise of our country is that it is a place where people could come when fleeing religious persecution and unjust, tyrannical governments to pursue a better quality of life. This is why we are known as a melting pot. This is what makes America great but Trump doesn’t agree.

NoBanNoWall, resist, Trump, women's rights, censorship, muslim ban, deportation

photo via Instagram @nicoalexa

Keeping people out of our country, turning children in need away, sending people seeking political amnesty from a tyrannical dictatorship goes against everything this country stands for. It is issuing a death sentence. It’s like locking people in a burning house. We are killing them.

Calling people rapists, drug lords and terrorists are doing nothing but villainizing the victims. Have we all forgotten what happened to the Jews during the Nazi reign? And it wasn’t just the Jews that Hitler destroyed.

Hitler put 6 million Polish people (Jewish and Christian) into his concentration camps, as well as people from Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Ukraine, Russia, Holland, France and even Germany. There were 11 million victims of the Holocaust. He targeted Jews, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Roma Gypsies, Courageous Resisters, Priests and Pastors, Homosexuals, people who were disabled, Black children and anyone in an interracial marriage. Does any of this sound familiar to what we are looking down the barrel at right now?

“First we need to examine Hitler’s egocentric and maniac ideology. Hitler, who was Chancellor of Germany during the Holocaust, came to power in 1933 when Germany was experiencing severe economic hardship. Hitler promised the Germans that he would bring them prosperity and that his military actions would restore Germany to a position of power in Europe.

Hitler had a vision of a Master Race of Aryans that would control Europe. He used very powerful propaganda techniques to convince not only the German people, but countless others, that if they eliminated the people who stood in their way and the degenerates and racially inferior, they – the great Germans would prosper.

Neighboring Poland – The First Target: “All Poles will disappear from the world…. It is essential that the great German people should consider it as its major task to destroy all Poles.”   Heinrich Himmler

Hitler’s first target was Germany’s closest neighbor to the east, Poland. An agricultural country with little military power. Hitler attacked Poland from three directions on September 1, 1939 and in just over one month, Poland surrendered — unable to defend itself against the powerful German prowess.

In Poland, Hitler saw an agricultural land in close proximity to Germany, populated by modest but strong and healthy farmers. Hitler quickly took control of Poland by specifically wiping out the Polish leading class — the Intelligentsia. During the next few years, millions of other Polish citizens were rounded up and either placed in slave labor for German farmers and factories or taken to concentration camps where many were either starved and worked to death or used for scientific experiments.”

Do you see the similarities? To read more similarities, read more from this article about the Non-Jewish victims of the holocaust. Just in case you think you are safe from the New Nationalists because you are white?

Edmund Burke once said, “Those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it.”

Please know your history or you will fall victim to it. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to be a part of a history that destroys our country under a government that cares nothing for us but for what we can do for it.

I will not stand idly by as my rights are stripped away one by one. I am a human being and so are you and we have to stick together to fight against what is sure to be history repeating itself. It’s already begun. It’s been a week. What do you think this will all look like in the history books in after 4 years? Viva La Resistance!

It’s time to mobilize. Get into formation ladies, gentleman, children, homosexuals, Muslims, Latinos, Disabled people and the poor and disenfranchised. Time to protect our freedoms and our human rights and dignity.

Give us your tired, your poor and your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.

What are you doing to resist?

 

 

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Blackish, racism, Trump, post-obama, election

Do you watch Blackish? We do. It’s one of those shows that we watch as a family the day after it airs because simply put, we can personally relate to many of the topics of the show but none more than this week’s episode, “Lemons.”

In 30 minutes, Blackish brilliantly covered everything that I’ve felt in the past 2 months about the election. Some of it, I’ve said on here before and more recently, I’ve gone quiet because I’ve been processing. I’ve been preparing to keep on fighting for equality. This fight is nothing new to me as a Latina woman, and if you are an African American, a member of the LGBTQ community, a person of the Muslim or Jewish community, disabled or any minority for that matter that was looking forward and hung all of our hopes of equality on a white woman, you know exactly what I’ve been feeling.

In retrospect, I guess we were all a bit naïve. We got cocky and complacent and we thought Hillary Clinton had it in the bag and she was the change/ the chance for true equality that we were all waiting for and maybe we put that on her because she was a white woman. Maybe somewhere deep down inside we felt like we needed permission/ confirmation of our equality from a Caucasian. How ironic is it that white women are the very exact ones who failed us at the polls?

We’re equal. We’re human. We don’t need anyone to make it alright. It’s a fact. Just like no other candidate can make us less than. Our President-elect may think we are less than he is but it’s simply not true. We are all the same. I don’t need him to give me something we already have the privilege of being born a human being.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about race lately because things just got a lot more in your face. The other day I watched Birth of a Nation and I cringed at the thought that any human could treat another human like that. It, quite frankly, broke my heart. I watched it with my 11-year-old daughter and we both just sobbed at the inhumanity. The thing is that wasn’t very long ago.

Then, I watched Loving. In case you are not familiar with the story, it’s about an interracial couple, Richard and Mildred Loving, living in Caroline County, Virginia in 1958. Richard Loving, a white construction worker, fell in love with a local black woman and family friend, Mildred Jeter. Mildred gets pregnant and overjoyed, Richard asks her to marry him. Knowing that interracial marriage violated Virginia’s anti-miscegenation laws, they drove to Washington, D.C. to get married.

But soon, sheriff’s deputies raid Mildred’s home and arrest the couple for violating the anti-miscegenation law. When Richard points to the marriage license, the sheriff curtly tells him that it has no validity in Virginia and takes Richard and, a very pregnant, Mildred to jail. Richard makes bail but then is not allowed to bail his wife out. She is forced to spend the weekend in jail, pregnant and in her nightgown and robe because the government of Virginia refused to recognize their marriage.

They plead guilty to breaking the anti-miscegenation law and are sentenced to one year in prison. However, the judge suspends the sentence, on condition that they couldn’t return to Virginia together for at least 25 years. The Lovings moved to D.C. to stay with a friend of Mildred’s but return to Virginia so their first child, Sidney, can be delivered by Richard’s mother, a midwife. Arrested again, they are cleared when their lawyer says he erroneously advised them they could return.

From there, the ACLU got involved after Mildred sent a letter to Bobby Kennedy asking for help with her situation. In 1967, the U.S. Supreme Court decided in the case of the Loving v. Virginia, which finally invalidated state laws prohibiting interracial marriage. That was only 50 years ago.

In 1972, my Caucasian mother from Virginia excitedly went to tell her grandfather who had raised her that she was marrying my father, a Mexican, and his answer was, “You may as well marry a n*gger.” I never really understood the weight of that comment until I watched Loving.

My great grandfather disowned my mother and she was heartbroken that he couldn’t accept the man that she loved. We never met that man because she wasn’t going to expose her children to that kind of hatred. I’ve only been taught and ever known, in my heart, that everyone is equal. My parents taught me that. But not so long ago, even in my own family, prejudice ran rampant and divided loved ones forever.

Prejudice is nothing new to most of us. Now, it’s just less covert but it hurts either way if I’m being honest. Nobody likes to swallow their tongue why someone else berates and belittles them and we shouldn’t have to. I wish we could do more than change the laws to ensure equality but actually change people’s hearts so that they saw us as equal because until that happens, we are not treating the cancer that is prejudice, only the symptoms and truly, that’s not much.

I guess what all this was about was to tell you that you are not alone in your feelings and if you don’t believe it, watch Blackish the episode “Lemons” you can catch it on Xfinity, HULU or the ABC App. I have no affiliation with these companies, other than paying for subscriptions, I just really think you need to watch it. You’ll see that you are not the only one thinking these things. You are not the only one terrified, depressed and saddened by the unpredictability of the upcoming term.

But please, stop complaining. And don’t be afraid because I know many of you are and who can blame you. But sometimes doing the right thing has to make you be braver than the fear. We’ve got work to do and the whining and crying is just pointless. It’s like worrying, there is not purpose to it. What helps is doing the work. Fighting the injustice. Making your voices heard so we don’t keep ending up here, in the worst fucking episode of Groundhog Day ever. We can do it. Yes, we can.

If you are disheartened by the election results, what are you going to do about it? How are you going to work to change the situation?

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Eminem, The Storm, Marshall Mathers, BET Awards, Donald Trump

I’ve been having the most hopeless feeling since the election results came in. I’m in a state of profound mourning. I am grieving a loss, not of an election but an immeasurable loss of the promise of a better tomorrow. I’m trying to pull myself out from under the rubble of the darkness that is my collapsed hope and faith in humanity.

This is a scary situation to anyone who understands the gravity of it. It isn’t like during a normal election when both candidates are somewhat qualified and then we go from there. Donald Trump is just not qualified for the position. Money can’t buy you experience or expertise. He doesn’t have a clue how the system works and it’s to his and our detriment. This has nothing to do whether we like the man as a human being or not, he is simply not qualified and I can’t believe people chose to totally overlook that fact when voting. It amazes me.

It’s been a week but I can still barely bring myself to speak outside of my bubble inside my house, the one that knows my plight and my heart. I’ve only felt this vulnerable on one other occasion when I miscarried my third pregnancy and all the possibilities were stolen from me by nature. But this election wasn’t the result of a cruel twist of nature. It wasn’t beyond our control it was chosen by people who either refuse to know what terrible they’ve done, don’t believe it is as terrible as we say because it doesn’t affect them directly or worse, those who prefer to go backwards than to live in the light of a new world of endless possibilities built on hope and equality.

I’m exhausted and weary. I can barely muster the strength to defend my fight. The fight that I’ve fought all of my life but I will. I can already feel my senses creeping back in. My heart has been singing a lullaby of Make me an instrument of Your Peace and I’ve decided to have peace, I must fight, educate and not yell; though I want to scream at the top of my lungs in the face of this miscarriage of hope. But no one hears what you’re saying when you yell. They only hear the anger and the words fall on deaf ears. I need my words to be heard. We need to fight harder than ever but we need to take the high road.

Last week’s election has opened my eyes in a way that I didn’t even know that they needed to be opened. I know I’m marginalized. I face it every day as a woman and as a Latina. I’ve had to fight to be seen and heard for who I was since I was old enough to realize that I was only being seen for what I was.

Friends, I get that many of us are disheartened and feeling hopeless about the Trump win and subsequent appointment of Bannon. Some of us fought really hard over the last few months to get Hillary Clinton elected. Some of us have been fighting our entire lives to make America equal. It was so much more than just a hashtag for us. It was a movement and a promise of a better way of life; an easier life. A life where we were not judged on the color of our skin, our religion, our sex or sexual preference but measured by our merit as people. What a beautiful dream it was.

I feel your sadness, your frustration, and your anger. It is natural to want to strike out when faced with such dismal prospects but this fervor to right all the wrongs, I wish it would have shown up before the election. But the PC veil has been torn down and now, none of us can unsee the hatred that is staring us directly in the face and screaming slurs at us.

The most frightening thing for women, disabled Americans, minorities, people of the Jewish faith, Muslims and people in the LGBTQ community is that Trump built his campaign by promising those alt-right “Make America White again” people that he’d let them have that and they are coming to collect. They took it as permission to hate out loud. I’m not even sure if he believed all the stuff he said but he has opened a can of worms that he can’t close and the fallout has already begun all over the country.

People are going to get hurt and those of us who are marginalized are going to suffer the worst. His rhetoric and this campaign have set our country back 100 years. I just hope we can survive it without a civil war that destroys us altogether.

I don’t have an answer as to how we get through this. I feel like so many of us are in jeopardy and danger under this new regime. I won’t lie, I’m in fear for the safety of our country from threats abroad and within. I’m mad that someone who had no qualifications and no experience and ran on a platform of crazy and hatred is what so many American’s craved in a leader, so much so that they ignored his lack of being able to actually get the job done.

I’m all for making an informed decision and choosing a candidate whose ideology lines up closest to your own. I believe in the right to choose whoever fits best for the America you want. That being said, I completely hold accountable those who put their blinders on to convince themselves that their own welfare outweighed that of the nation. They may not have all voted with hatred in their heart but there certainly was no compassion or care for those of us who would be affected directly by this outcome.

I want to believe that voters didn’t do enough research into Trump as a candidate and didn’t fully realize the ramifications of giving him the presidency. None of us will survive this term unscathed. Our country, our very way of life, will be changed for the worse.

Peacefully protesting to let the world know that Donald Trump is #NotMyPresident is a great way to show that we don’t support the Trump presidency but unfortunately, he is our president and we are vulnerable because of it. Contacting your representatives to make your voices heard is a step in letting them know that you hold them accountable, even though realistically it probably won’t change anything this election. Crossing your fingers and hoping that Hillary Clinton gets the presidency because of rogue electoral votes is probably not going to happen. We need to face that reality.

We need to have a new plan. Shit didn’t turn out the way we hoped or planned but seldom do they. The marginalized of us are used to disappointment. We’ve been training for this outcome our entire lives but we hoped for better. Our fatal mistake was believing we’d won the race before we actually had. We got complacent.

We have to change our plan of action. We don’t have Hillary to help us. We need to be stronger, fiercer, fight harder and never give up. We need to work for good, to defend our rights. We have to fight tooth and nail to protect our children from the fallout. And make no mistake, this presidency is not just bad for those of us who identify as marginalized. Sure, it may seem that way at the onset but it’s bad for all Americans because a country guided by a leader who has no clear direction of how to get where he’s going is a vulnerable country that will find itself in turmoil.

I ask that you all educate yourselves, your friends and your children (anyone who will listen) on our political system and the election process and government in general so that in the next election, in 2 years, good people can make good, informed decisions. This is the beginning of our revolution. History is happening right now.

We can’t let this stand but we have to use our words. We have to make them listen. We have to organize and mobilize. We have to use our minds and our voices. We have to get our shit together and stop crying and start doing and that is where I am this morning.

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hillary clinton, presidential, election, election 2016, donald trump

First, let me start by clarifying that I f*cking love Hillary Clinton. I love what she stands for and the kind of woman she is. I want to be her when I grow up and I choose her for my next president; not because she’s the “lesser of two evils” but because she is qualified, experienced and can get the job done. Hillary Clinton is the only presidential candidate I trust with my daughters’ futures.

Hillary Clinton is a strong, intelligent, determined, experienced and fierce woman. She has come up through the ranks and learned as she has gone along. It’s taken 30 years in many different positions of government but she’s seen a lot of what can and can’t be done, what needs to be done and has had plenty of time to figure out how to make it happen. Most importantly, she will not back down. She will fight for this country and its people with the ferocity that a mama bear would fight for her own child because that’s how she works. It’s personal.

This election is about choosing the best candidate for the job of running our country and for me that is Hillary Clinton. It’s not about popularity or choosing the candidate that makes us feel better about our own bad behavior. It’s not a pissing contest. I know some of you are scared because she bucks the status quo because she is a woman and that’s not what we are used to but as a woman let me tell you, my vagina does not affect my mind. I can do anything any man can do, maybe even better depending on the man, with the exception of pissing standing up. You men have the market on that still. Don’t be afraid to elect Hillary Clinton because she’s a woman.

I know many of you, my friends, are Republicans. Hell, I used to be one myself (long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away.) I remember a rally came to my university where George Bush Sr. spoke and I lost my damn mind. You would have thought that Ryan Gosling showed up.

The thing is that was 25 years ago and I have grown up. I’ve also spent many years studying political science and I know a lot more about how politics work and what democracy is really about than most. I know that being conservative is not going to change anything and I want change. This country needs change. The country needs Hillary Clinton.

I am liberal. I want equality for everyone. I believe that men, women, black, white, brown, yellow, green, Jewish, Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindi, Latinos, Asians, African Americans, Caucasians, Straight, gay, bisexual and transgender…we are all human and equal as such. I believe every single one of us matters. I know, crazy talk.

I believe that a woman’s body is her domain and no one else has the right to tell her what to do with it. I believe that a baby is a baby at conception but I don’t believe that an unborn baby’s rights trump those of a woman’s right to choose what is best for her, her body and her situation and certainly don’t believe the government has any business in my uterus.

I believe in the right to bear arms, even though I personally would never own a gun. But I also believe in common sense gun control and if you are not deemed fit to fly because you might be suspected of being a terrorist, then I think you shouldn’t be granted the freedom to buy a gun until you are cleared. I believe that the process to be a licensed carrier needs to be more stringent and I also believe that if you are mentally ill, and I say this as someone who has her own diagnosis, you should not be able to own a firearm. Why? Because if not properly treated, you could kill yourself or someone else. It’s a fact. If you are not in your right frame of mind, you can do things you wouldn’t normally do. Add a loaded firearm to the mix and it can be catastrophic.

I believe in immigration laws. My dad was an illegal immigrant at one time. He’s legal now but I’m a first generation Mexican-American and I understand why refugees come to our country; they want a better life. They want the American dream. What you might not understand is that most of those fleeing to the U.S. are not coming to rape and pillage our land, they are coming to escape a terrible situation in a third world country. They are coming to give their children a better life.

Immigration laws need to be logical. You can’t send people back, away from their family and loved ones, away from the only life they’ve ever known to a country that they no longer belong to or want to be a part of. It’s like throwing a lifeline to someone who is drowning and then pulling it away and watching them drown because it doesn’t suit your agenda. These are human beings. A wall is not the answer. It will not keep anyone out. We need to change the process for entry.

The way we are taxed is crazy. Those who make a lot of money are taxed less than those of us who are middle class. This perpetuates a cycle in which none of us can move ahead. It is ridiculous to be a hard working American and still have to live paycheck to paycheck when those who have so much get to keep so much more.

The bottom line is this; I am voting for Hillary Clinton because she is the best person for the job.

The simple fact, all personal feelings aside, Donald Trump is simply not qualified for the position. He has no experience. He is full of ideas (all of which I cannot agree with) but he has no way of bringing any of them to fruition because he doesn’t understand how the political system works. You can’t wish or buy your way through the presidency, not if you want to be an effective president.

I’m feeling a little on edge about this election because I feel like so much is on the line so I just spoke to my dad, an immigrant to this country that he loves, and he told me, “Debi, mija, go vote. Do your part. Stand up for what you believe in but believe that God will guide whoever wins the election to do what’s best for the American people and this great country.” I wish I could have my father’s faith in democracy and the American people.

My dad raised me that all human beings are equal and that this country is the greatest country on earth and it’s a privilege to be able to live under its democratic system. He also raised me to fight tooth and nail for what I believe in and then he sent me to university to study politics so I implore you, please vote for Hillary Clinton tomorrow. Our future, the future of our children and the future of the land of the free and the home of the brave are at stake.

hillary clinton, presidential, election, election 2016, donald trump

Tomorrow morning, I will be at the poll with my daughters and my husband, casting our vote for Hillary Clinton. I hope you will be too. Your vote counts, every single vote counts.

Vote Hillary Clinton

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Apparently, it’s not enough that this election has our country going to hell in a handbasket with a political slope that is slicker than chicken grease now we’re on full out Creepy Clown crisis even the White House says so. Okay, so they are not killer clowns yet but these sons of guns are sure as hell scaring all the kids in my neck of the woods. Yes, my damn neighborhood is literally covered in wooded areas, parks and bus stops; it’s a pardon the term, a creepy clown’s “wet dream”. Thanks a lot asshole for forcing my co-sleepers that I JUST forced out of my bed a couple years ago…right back in!

Clowns, you think you are creepy? Oh you just wait until I see one of you son-of-a-bitches in my neighborhood, I’m going to take your giant clown shoes off and beat you with them myself! It’s one thing to get head-butted by a 1-year-old, it’s quite another to get roundhouse kicked in your sleep by a 5’3” baby Huey tween. These creepy clowns have got to go.

creepy clown, creepy clown crisis, stranger danger, keeping kids safe, Halloween, evil clown

Over the weekend, there was a creepy clown harassing a group of kids at a bus stop in our city. Aside from plaguing the entire snowflake generation with a monster case of coulrophobia now you’ve gone and made it personal. The snowflakes are the children of Generation X, can’t you just focus on scaring the fucking hipsters and millennials. They might even enjoy it. We don’t. I don’t want to share the downfall of my kid’s psyche on social media. I don’t need to hashtag it for likes. I’ll pass.

I spent Sunday night in my room with the Big Guy (he’s 6’5”, we call him that for a reason) who snores like a kitten, a 5’3” tween who practices her dance moves in her sleep and is prone to screaming outbursts, a 4’11” 9-year-old who clings to the nearest warm body like a heat seeking baby monkey and sleep combats people in their “sensitive” areas while they sleep and a bulldog squiggle ( Squeaky pig-like creature) who thinks she’s human and likes to plop her muscly ass dead center in the bed forming an H between the Big Guy and I. It was wall to wall people.

Trying to go to pee during the night was like a human/ canine obstacle course and that’s dangerous when you’ve got stress incontinence.Trying not to step on children or trip over random pillows, shoes, and blankets or disappear into a pile of unfolded laundry was even harder than it sounds. It was damn dangerous and I owe it all to those creepy clowns.

Oh, you think you’re scary, you ain’t got shit on this exhausted mama! I’m not currently in my right mind and you will feel the full wrath of my crazy should ever our two paths cross. Actually, I need some sleep. Let’s schedule a “play date” at the local park…you bring your red nose and clown shoes and I’ll bring my nunchucks, machete, and some Tequila. Mom versus clown. I’m desperate to sleep so don’t expect to be walking away from this tussle with your red nose and big hands intact. I’m taking you down clown. Insane clown posse…pfffttt…insane mom posse, bitches.

creepy clown, creepy clown crisis, stranger danger, keeping kids safe, Halloween, evil clown

All joking aside, I’m not a person who suffers from a phobia of clowns but I think one creepster has caused hysteria. You remember John Wayne Gacy used to dress in grease paint, right? That was enough to make clowns creepy forever. Well, now there are creepy clown sightings everywhere and even a couple literal clowns robbed a bank and there are teens soliciting clowns on social media to murder their teachers. I’m guessing that it’s a whole bunch of copycats. This is not one person or group because it’s happening all over the country. I think we’ve opened a door for people to commit heinous acts under the guise of creepy clown attacks. The world is rampant with assholes doing bad shit and now they’re using clown masks to do it.

This is not a drill we are in creepy clown crisis mode.

My concern is the mass hysteria that it is bringing with it. Suddenly people are imagining clowns everywhere. No one is above suspicion. Worse still, kids are spreading stories of their own creepy clown sightings (many of which I believe are products of their imaginations) and I think this is going to turn into a Salem Witch trial situation soon. Kid hates their teacher for assigning homework? Tween hates their neighbor for telling them to stay off their grass? Teen hates their friend’s dad for not allowing said friend to stay out past curfew? Oh you hate that guy in high school who didn’t want to date you? Clowns every single one of them. Just watch, the next step in the evolution of the creepy clown epidemic will be false accusations of creepy clown participation.

creepy clown, creepy clown crisis, stranger danger, keeping kids safe, Halloween, evil clown

In all seriousness, this is creepy as shit especially with Halloween coming up so quickly. Like, I might literally shit my pants if our neighborhood is overrun with creepy clown costumes and I know my kids will. Guess I’m dressing as a drunk Chuck Norris for Halloween because the nunchucks, machete, and tequila are going with me this Halloween. While I think most of the viral videos of machete-wielding creepy clowns chasing joggers are bullshit because I don’t know too many joggers who jog in Go Pros or with their phones recording the entire experience (well, maybe some millennials because I know they like to document every single “special” thing they do like farting or breaking a sweat and hashtag the hell out of it ;)) I do think this is a teachable moment for our children.

My girls are terrified of clowns now, which, honestly, clowns, as a whole, are pretty freaking creepy looking anyways or maybe I’ve just seen way too many Rob Zombie movies. Yes, 31, I’m looking at you. But I’ve made this an opportunity to revisit the conversation with my girls about why you don’t talk to strangers, you don’t ever go up to a stranger, never give directions or take candy or pet puppy dogs of strangers. Strangers are bad! I’ve taught them the scream, yell, fight, kick in the balls and wiggle technique in case they’re ever grabbed. It’s given me the chance to remind them why they are not allowed to go places alone or veer too far away from home, unsupervised. It’s given me the chance to use my, “You never know the psychopath sitting next to you” speech. It’s also given me a reason to explain once again why social media is not allowed for them at age 9 and 11.

My children are young and naïve and I don’t want them to go through life scared but I do want them to go through life using some common sense and a healthy dose of caution. I trust my children but the rest of the world, not so much. I think anybody in a mask in a normal situation is a little bit strange and it makes me defensive when I can’t see your face, that’s just me and my healthy dose of caution instilled from my ghetto upbringing. I don’t trust anyone unless I know them, and then sometimes not even. I was raised with a lot of skepticism of the world in general. I wasn’t raised on unicorns and rainbows. It was hard reality all damn day long. I’m not sure that’s a bad thing in the state of today’s world.

Speaking of creepy clowns and things moms need to be worried about? Did any of you watch the vice presidential debate? Mike Pence…dear lord, if that man isn’t enough to scare you straight to the polls to vote for Hillary, I don’t know what is. Maybe we can sacrifice him to the creepy clown posse as an offering so they leave our children alone?

Also, amber alerts? What is going on? I don’t know where you live but we’ve had several a day in my state for the past week. My kids are coming home with all their stories confused, they are blaming the amber alerts on children being lured by creepy clowns. None of that is factual, much like the belief at my children’s school that all Mexicans are ISIS. I swear I spend most of my day trying to convince my daughters that 99% of the shit they hear at school is exactly that…bullshit.

creepy clown, creepy clown crisis, stranger danger, keeping kids safe, Halloween, evil clown

What are you doing to assuage your children’s fear of the creepy clowns? What are your thoughts on the creepy clown crisis?

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parenting, gun control, hiding in a bathroom, attack

Ever think about what it really means that we are parenting in a world where it’s completely necessary to teach our children what to do in case someone enters the the building with a gun? Something happened last week that left me more than a little freaked out. I haven’t talked about it on here because I didn’t know where to start. I wasn’t sure that I even wanted to talk about it because then I had to admit that it was real.

But then in the news I read that a couple people had been shot and murdered at our local Texas Roadhouse. It was a Sunday night. It’s a family restaurant. Can you imagine going out for dinner with your family and being caught in crossfire? Can imagine what you would do if you were sitting there with your child?

We’d all like to think that it would never happen to us. That mass shootings, or a madman on the loose with a firearm, happens someplace else; anywhere else. It just doesn’t happen here because then we would have to face our greatest fear every single time we walked out of the door. We’d have to accept that every moment outside the bubble of our home puts those we love most at risk. So we push it down, way down. We throw caution to the win and we don’t let the “terrorists” win (the terrorists being crazies with guns). But sometimes, it does happen here. There. To you. It can happen to any of us.

Last week, I was at the mall with my daughters and my mother-in-law school shopping. The sun was shining. The guys were at a thing and us girls, we were just having a relaxing day of buying things we needed to back-to-school and “mannequin shopping” (as my youngest refers to window shopping) for those things on our wish list. It was a day like so many others but not quite. We had no idea what was about to transpire.

We had hit all the stores we needed to hit and were hitting Sears as a last ditch effort to find the correct size in uniform shirts and shorts for my tall and thin children before we were going to let the girls go someplace they actually wanted to go…Claire’s and Justice. After much searching, we finally found some uniform polos that would work.  As we neared the register, the littlest one tells me that she needs to go to the restroom. Of course she does, she always has to go to the restroom. I think she is secretly surveying all the bathrooms in the world. She’ll probably start some amazing yelp like service for toilets when she’s a tween but I digress. This is serious shit and I’m getting off track.

My mother-in-law stays in line with my oldest to pay and the little one and I go to the restroom. In case you were wondering, my girls are 9 and 11-years-old and, no, I still don’t let them go to the restroom unaccompanied because I simply don’t trust people. She went to one stall, while I went to another (hey, that’s progress) and then it happened.

I was washing my hands while she was still in the stall. I was chatting to her, letting her know that I was waiting outside the stall door. She was cracking jokes and laughing, as she is known to do. She is a really silly kid. I love that about her.  Then we heard it, something off in the distance outside the women’s restroom door. Something like I’ve never heard before. It sounded like a child tantruming and very agitated but it was clearly an adult man. I could hear the tension escalation and nearing us.

I was really confused because when we had walked into the restroom, through the furniture section, there were three seemingly normal grown men sitting there. Yet, this howling, agitated screaming and shouting was getting louder and louder and I could hear arguing. My heart was racing. Oh my God, what’s about to happen?

These are the moments in parenting where you find out who you really are.

So, I started rapping on my daughter’s stall but I wasn’t saying anything because I didn’t want anyone outside the bathroom to know we were in there. I didn’t want to call attention to our location. Then in a panic, I whisper shouted, “Gabi, let me in. It’s mommy.” She did. I could see on her face that she was terrified. I tried to calm her with my eyes but I knew the voices were getting closer and louder and even more agitated with each step.

I pushed her to the back of the stall. I told her to be quiet and make herself small. Hide as best you can in a stall. I had no idea what was coming through that door. I feared it could be a man with a gun. I was terrified but not for me or my safety, but for my daughter; my littlest girl. All I could think of was those poor men trapped in the bathroom at Pulse nightclub in Orlando.

I readied myself for the worst. I positioned myself in between the door and my child and I braced it with all of my weight. I was looking through the crack in the stall when a huge, mentally challenged man came bursting through the door. He was pacing back and forth and hitting himself in the head; clearly agitated. He was hitting the stall door next to me. No one else was in there except for him and us. I wanted to cry and scream for help but I had to stay silent and keep my composure. He was out of control and not in his right mind.

Then, an elderly woman, I’m assuming his mother, burst into the bathroom. She grabbed him and tried to subdue him. Her eye caught mine looking through the slit in the stall. I’m sur she could see the terror in my eyes. She was tiny and he was massive. I wanted to help her but he was twice my size and while her concern was her child, mine was my own child. We stayed in there, silently hiding from this man for what seemed like forever. I’m sure it was only a few minutes.

I heard her talking to him with a mother’s love and trying to calm him down. She pulled him into the handicapped stall next to us. He was still screaming and howling and I could hear him hitting himself. I couldn’t even breathe but I had to stay strong for my daughter. Then, I heard the mom shut the stall door and tell him, “just stay here with me and breathe for a minute,” and I knew it was our chance.

I quietly opened the stall door, checked to make sure it was safe and slipped out with my daughter safely tucked behind me. I was a human shield, just in case, he flew back out of the stall agitated. My daughter was trembling, as I held her close to me. We got outside of the door and finally exhaled.

And there sitting, laughing, were the three grown men. The same men who watched me walk into the restroom with my little girl. The same men who saw this mentally deficient, unstable man flipping out and proceeded to watch him enter the restroom where my daughter and I were at, all the while doing nothing. The same men who watched as a frail, tiny elderly woman went in to face a huge, agitated and angry man. They laughed. My daughter was trembling and they laughed. The only reason I didn’t stop and say something to them was because I didn’t know if that man was going to come running out of the bathroom, still unstable. My priority was getting my daughter to safety. Instead, I went to the cashier and they sent security.

This is the world we live in. The world where grown man do nothing while a child is in danger.  A world where no one, other than this man’s mother, thought it was enough to check on him, even though he was screaming, yelling and hitting himself. A world where my little girl cried when we got home because she was too scared to answer the door at first and she felt guilty. A world where my first thought was that someone was coming in to shoot us.

The sad reality is we’re parenting in a world where any of us can become a victim of gun violence at any time.

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Hillary Clinton, Democratic nomination, president, first female president, women's rights

Hillary Clinton just made history shattering the glass ceiling to become the first woman to be the presidential nominee for a major political party and I got to watch it happen with my little girls. As a Mexican American woman this means more to me than I can put into words. I grew up in a house where women were second class citizens. While the rest of the world was marking their value by the payment of 80 cents on the dollar, I knew in my house, I wasn’t even worth half. Or so that was what I was told but, I always knew better.

I knew what Hillary Clinton proved tonight. I knew that I could be anything that I put my mind to and was willing to work my ass off for. Being a woman, the simple act of being born with a vagina, has always been equated with being less than and that has made life harder. We’re seen as the “weaker” sex and given no power. We have to work twice as hard and fight for everything we get. I was willing to do it because I’ve never let anyone tell me what I could and couldn’t do. I want better for my girls. I want a woman president in their lifetime.

I want Hillary Clinton as my president. I’m with her because she is with us.

8 years ago, I got to be part of history and vote for our first African American President and it felt good. I felt like, for once, we less thans were changing things. I could feel the shift. It felt monumental and it was. It is. Finally, a minority President was a reality. How far we had come. This gave me hope that a woman could be next.

But still, politicians forgot about we women. All of this legislation was being proposed that allowed middle-aged white men to decide what I could and couldn’t do with my own body. For all of our so-called rights, we women were never treated (and still are not) as equal human beings. Our worth was not so great as our male counterparts, no matter who we were or what we did, we still lacked one main quality of greatness…a penis. But I never believed it, not for one second.

After all, I am woman. I know you hear me roar but you ignore my battle cries. The thought of this being my daughter’s reality was unbearable. The thought that my daughters could ever be made to feel less than simply for being born with a vagina, saddens and sickens me because I know better. I taught them better. Every woman knows that a vagina is tougher than a penis. We give birth and devote our lives to loving and caring for our children, all while still existing, working and thriving in a world that either doesn’t respect us or doesn’t see us at all. We spend our lives being provoked and dared to respond. Hillary changed that. We changed that.

Tonight, when roll call was done and Hillary Clinton got the democratic nomination, that was our moon landing.

One small step for woman, one giant leap for womankind. In one nomination, Hillary Clinton gave us hope that we (the American citizens who have vaginas) can achieve equality in the eyes of the law but more importantly, in the eyes of our daughters.

The glass ceiling was shattered tonight and all the mothers and daughters of the United States are celebrating because we know that the next time we tell our little girls that they can be anything they want to when they grow up, we’re telling them the truth. The possibilities are endless. We’ve shattered the ceiling and we’re never going back to the way it was.

I know I will never forget this night when our world changed for the better. The moment equality was on the precipice for women. The night I got to witness history being made and changed with my two beautiful little girls by my side. The night I was moved to tears because finally, women  might be seen as human beings with human rights.

Women’s rights are human rights. Thank you Hillary Clinton for reminding the world that women can do anything men can do and better.

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