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Dreams do come true I’m heading to LA for #DisneysNutcrackerEvent
Thank you to Walt Disney Studios for inviting me on an all-expenses-paid trip to cover #DisneysNutcrackerEvent. All opinions and genuine excitement over Disney’s the Nutcracker and the Four Realms and interviewing Mackenzie Foy, Misty Copeland and Jim Cummings are my own.
Someone, please pinch me! This ballerina mom is going to LA this weekend to attend Disney’s the Nutcracker and the Four Realms press event. What? Yes!
You all know I’m a long time Disney lover. I married a Big Guy who has a hidden Mickey tattooed on him. We honeymooned at Disney World and we’ve seen every Disney movie ever, especially since having our baby girls. So many Disney themed birthday parties have been had. So many Disney memories and now, my worlds collide.
There is only one thing I love almost as much as Disney and that is ballet. My girls have been dancing since they were 2. I’ve sat through countless hours of classes, driven to hundreds of hours of rehearsals and attended so many Nutcracker performances, my heart swelling with pride as my tiny dancers arabesqued, pirouetted and leaped across the stage. I’ve stayed up late nights sewing pointe shoes until my fingers bled and the Big Guy and I have both perfected the ballet bun.
READ ALSO: Disney’s the Nutcracker and the Four Realms a Must See
Both of my girls have danced in the Nutcracker since they were 5-years-old. The Big Guy and I have been working backstage with tiny dancers and being a part of the Nutcracker magic every year. This is our family’s holiday tradition. My oldest has actually never gotten to see the Nutcracker live because she’s always performing on stage. This is why my family is so excited about Disney’s The Nutcracker and the Four Realms. We will finally get to see the story unfold together; all four of us.
I won’t lie, I nearly fainted when I got the pixie-dusted email. I read it about 3 times before I could convince myself that it was, in fact, real and I was being invited to the world premiere of Disney’s The Nutcracker and the Four Realms and would be attending #DisneysNutcrackerEvent. My mind was swirling. I felt like Clara getting to meet the Sugar Plum Fairy.
Sunday, I’m heading to Los Angeles at 8 am for Disney’s Nutcracker World Premiere event and I don’t think I could be more excited if I tried. Disney’s The Nutcracker and the Four Realms hits theatres everywhere November 2^nd and you can bet, I’ll be at the theater watching it with my family.
The imagery is stunning with a star-studded cast including Misty Copeland, Mackenzie Foy, Keira Knightly, Helen Mirren and Morgan Freeman (to name a few). I’m going to really have to keep my inner fangirl in check on the red carpet but expect lots of updates and photos from the event. Who knows what might happen? At this point, I believe anything can happen because obviously, dreams do come true!
READ ALSO: The Nutcracker’s Tiniest Soldier
Keep reading to find out all the activities, interviews and more that I will be sharing during #DisneysNutcrackerEvent. Follow the hashtag 10/28-10/30 for all the Disney the Nutcracker and the Four Realms splendor that I can share.
But there is more! Yes, more. As if it’s not exciting enough just to have the honor of attending the world premiere ( I feel like a celebrity every time I tell anyone about it;) ) there is so much more. First off, I get to learn a few sweet The Nutcracker and the Four Realms inspired dance moves.
October 28
That’s right! Sunday night, I’m going to be getting a dance lesson with teachers and DANCING WITH THE STARS / DANCING WITH THE STARS: JUNIORS mentors Brandon Armstrong, Alan Bersten & Gleb Savchenko. What? Yes, you read that right! I’ll make sure to share the whole thing with you. Fingers crossed my two left feet are so excited to be at the Nutcracker and the Four Realms event, they forget they have no rhythm.
October 29
Have you seen the new Disney’s Christopher Robin movie? It comes out on Digital and Blu-ray™ Nov. 6. Embark on a spirited adventure with grown-up Christopher Robin, Winnie the Pooh, and friends, and go behind the scenes to discover how Disney’s beloved characters are brought to life.
In honor of the Blu-ray & Digital release of CHRISTOPHER ROBIN, we will gather with friends in the park and enjoy a delicious “Friendsgiving” meal inspired by Pooh’s favorite thing, hunny!
To celebrate the occasion, we will be interviewing Jim Cummings (voice of “Winnie the Pooh” & “Tigger”), who is one of the most well-known voiceover actors in animation. Even if you don’t recognize the name, you will recognize his voice.
Aside from voicing the beloved characters of Winnie the Pooh and Tigger ( one of my daughter’s favorites) during his illustrious career, he has worked extensively for Walt Disney Studios, voicing classic characters such as Winnie the Pooh, Tigger, King Louis, Kaa the Snake, Pete and many others.
His credits read like a top list of animated and live-action films, including “Who Framed Roger Rabbit,” “The Little Mermaid,” “Aladdin,” “Tarzan,” “Pocahontas,” “The Lion King,” “Babe: Pig in the City,” “The Hunchback of Notre Dame,” “Brother Bear 2,” “The Princess and the Frog” and “Gnomeo & Juliet,” to name a few. He has been Emmy®-nominated five times over, as well as had five nominations for the prestigious Annie Awards. All I can say is wow! He’s like animation royalty and I get to interview him.
As if that is not all exciting enough, I get to interview Misty Copeland, “the Ballerina”. You know, no big deal, she was just the first African-American ballet dancer to be promoted to principal dancer in the American Ballet Theater’s 75-year history. No big deal, just my girls’ ballet idol and constant female inspiration.
Misty Copeland didn’t start dancing ballet until she was 13-years-old by the time she was 15, she won first place in the Music Center Spotlight Awards. Through her career, she has been a constant inspiration to little girls everywhere. She gives them hope and confidence to know that with a lot of hard work, determination and passion, you can accomplish your dreams even if you don’t fit the typical mold.
When we found out, my girls were squealing and so excited. They are begging me to sneak them in my carry on.
READ ALSO: Why the Nutcracker Ballet is so Special
I will have the pleasure of interviewing Mackenzie Foy who plays Clara in Disney’s the Nutcracker and the Four Realms. Ms. Foy has quickly emerged as one of Hollywood’s most exciting young actresses. With a breakout role in one of the biggest movie franchises of all time, the Twilight Saga, Foy’s body of work continues to evolve with exciting and challenging projects.
She’s starred in Interstellar, The Conjuring, The Little Prince and Plastic Jesus to name a few of the amazing movies you might have seen her in. Ms. Foy is definitely a rising star.
“All Clara (Mackenzie Foy) wants is a key – a one-of-a-kind key that will unlock a box that holds a priceless gift. A golden thread, presented to her at godfather Drosselmeyer’s (Morgan Freeman) annual holiday party, leads her to the coveted key—which promptly disappears into a strange and mysterious parallel world. It’s there that Clara encounters a soldier named Phillip (Jayden Fowora-Knight), a gang of mice and the regents who preside over three Realms: Land of Snowflakes, Land of Flowers and Land of Sweets. Clara and Phillip must brave the ominous Fourth Realm, home to the tyrant Mother Ginger (Helen Mirren), to retrieve Clara’s key and hopefully return harmony to the unstable world. Starring Keira Knightley as the Sugar Plum Fairy, Disney’s new holiday feature film “The Nutcracker and the Four Realms” is directed by Lasse Hallström and Joe Johnston, and inspired by E.T.A. Hoffmann’s classic tale.”
Next up, I get to walk my first ever red carpet and see this incredible film that I’ve been waiting to be on the big screen since I saw the first teaser last year. It’s going to be amazing and I cannot wait to take it all in.
Best.Night.Ever.
October 30
THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT behind-the-scenes experience
We get a sneak peek of “The Kids Are Alright,” which airs Tuesdays at 8:30|7:30c on ABC. You can also watch/rewatch via streaming (ABC app/ABC.com/Hulu) or On Demand. This show is so funny and clever.
Set in the 1970s, this ensemble comedy follows a traditional Irish-Catholic family, the Clearys, as they navigate big and small changes during one of America’s most turbulent decades. In a working-class neighborhood outside Los Angeles, Mike and Peggy raise eight boisterous boys who live out their days with little supervision. The household is turned upside down when oldest son Lawrence returns home and announces he’s quitting the seminary to go off and “save the world.” Times are changing and this family will never be the same. There are 10 people, three bedrooms, one bathroom and everyone in it for themselves.
The series stars Michael Cudlitz as Mike Cleary, Mary McCormack as Peggy Cleary, Sam Straley as Lawrence Cleary, Caleb Foote as Eddie Cleary, Sawyer Barth as Frank Cleary, Christopher Paul Richards as Joey Cleary, Jack Gore as Timmy Cleary, Andy Walken as William Cleary, and Santino Barnard as Pat Cleary.
Facebook: @TheKidsAreAlrightABC
Twitter: @TheKidsABC
Instagram: @thekidsarealrightabc
Hashtag: #TheKidsAreAlright
STATION 19 behind-the-scenes experience
Behind-the-scenes experience with “Station 19,” starring Jaina Lee Ortiz and Jason George!
“Station 19” airs Thursdays at 9|8c on ABC (also available via streaming on ABC app/ABC.com/Hulu and on demand) follows a group of heroic Seattle firefighters as they put their lives and hearts on the line. The latest series from the executive producers of “Grey’s Anatomy,” “Scandal” and “How to Get Away with Murder” takes us inside the tough, tight-knit and sometimes heartbreaking world of the city’s bravest first responders.
“Station 19” stars Jaina Lee Ortiz as Andy Herrera, Jason George as Ben Warren, Grey Damon as Jack Gibson, Barrett Doss as Victoria Hughes, Alberto Frezza as Ryan Tanner, Jay Hayden as Travis Montgomery, Okieriete Onaodowan as Dean Miller, Danielle Savre as Maya Bishop and Miguel Sandoval as Captain Pruitt Herrera.
Stacy McKee (“Grey’s Anatomy”) serves as showrunner and executive producer, along with Shonda Rhimes and Betsy Beers. Paris Barclay (“Pitch” and “Sons of Anarchy”) serves as the producing director and executive producer of the series.
Facebook: @Station19ABC
Instagram: @station19
Twitter: @Station19
Hashtag: #station19
Sadly on Tuesday, I fly home and turn back into a pumpkin just in time to take my girls trick-or-treating. I’m so excited for the Disney’s Nutcracker and the Four Realms event that I can barely contain myself.
THE NUTCRACKER AND THE FOUR REALMS OPENS IN THEATRES EVERYWHERE ON NOVEMBER 2ND!
Like THE NUTCRACKER AND THE FOUR REALMS on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DisneysNutcracker
Follow Disney Studios on Twitter: https://twitter.com/DisneyStudios
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Follow THE NUTCRACKER AND THE FOUR REALMS on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/disneysnutcracker/
If you have any questions for Jim Cummings, MacKenzie Foy or Misty Copeland, leave them in the comments below and I’ll try my best to ask them during the interview!
Please follow along on my adventure by following the hashtags #DisneysNutcrackerEvent , #ABCTVEvent , #ChristopherRobinBluray and #DWTS on 10/27- 10/30.
2018/10/25
Hey,Look at that Fat Girl
Let me preface this by saying, I am so paranoid about my girls developing body issues that if you ask them ,”What are you?” Their standard answer, with absolutely no conceit, is, “Perfection!” Or as Bella likes to say ,”Perfectional!” I am trying to raise them to know that they are perfect as is; to know that people come in all shapes, sizes,and colors and we are all of the same worth. We are all the perfect us that we are suppose to be.I stress this point to them. Though, of course, being that I am human, I am uber critical of myself but I am conscientious not to exhibit that behavior in front of them, or so I thought. It’s a 24 hour a day job, just trying not to be a bad example :)I thought that I was succeeding at this job.I guess I thought wrong.
The other day, out of the blue, my 4 year old, Bella looks at me and whispers, “Mom, I want you to be tall and straight like Daddy.” With that, she smiled a little sheepish smile. So between the whisper and the (please don’t hurt me, on the brink of a flinch smile) I concluded, she was trying to say something very diplomatically that was in fact an insult. But I wasn’t sure what. My husband is 6’5″, so I understand that he is taller than me but what did she mean by “straight”? I’m married to a man and she has to idea of the implications of the words “straight or gay” ,so this left me wondering, what in the hell exactly she meant. So, I said,”Bella, Mommy is a girl and sometimes they are shorter than boys.I can’t do anything about that.” She said,(in her whispering/defensive stance/hands actually up to her mouth to signify a secret) “But you can get straight!” I look at her, and again, that same impish smile. I’m curious and I’m confused. “Honey, what do you mean that you want me to be “straight like Daddy”? Bella, looks me up and down and says, “You know, straight,with none of this!” By this, I inferred by her hand gestures and the fact that she was rubbing my love handles, she meant my lovely chunkiness. OMG, this is the moment I hoped would never come. I’m not obese, but I’m no size 5 anymore.I am certainly a well established resident in double digit land. I took a mental note and decided that it was in fact time to get back into shape. I want to be a good role model, and all that:)She wasn’t trying to mean, but she obviously knew, at her young age of 4, that Mommy’s weight was a sensitive subject. We’ve had the occasional,”Mom you’ve got a big butt!”, which of course, compared to hers, I do. Let’s face it, I got a big butt. I have always responded, “Well Bella, Mommy would look crazy with a little butt like yours.I’m too big for a bootie that size, but its perfect for your little girl body:)” Which, indeed, I would and it is. Her response is always, “It’s OK Mom, I love your big butt!” So, overall, its all good. My ego gets a little bruised, but I bounce back. That was then.
Today,at dinner, Bella is engaged in a full on monologue with herself, as four year olds are known to do from time to time. Then she leaps into her,I’m pretending I’m somebody else mode.OK, I’m used to this. I hear her having a conversation with herself about her Mom being “straight”. I turn slowly, and my ears perk up, like a nosey dog.I can’t resist,”Bella, you still love me even if I’m not “straight”,right? Families love each other no matter what.” To which she responds, “Yeah, Mom! But some people are like ‘Hey look at that fat girl!’ ( Imagine my aghast face and sheer horror) and she continues ,”But I’m like ,’Hey don’t say that, she’s my Mom and she’s perfect!” And then she looks me dead in the eye, serious as I’ve ever seen her, and says,”I still love you anyways,Mommy!” At this point, I am in shock and mortified that this is the conversation that her and her ‘imaginary friends are having’:) Continuing, as an equal opportunity child that she apparently is, she looks at me and (again with that smile and whisper, since Daddy’s out of earshot) says ,”It’s OK Mom, they say it about Daddy and Saffaron (the dog) too. They’re like ‘Hey, look at that stupid guy walking that dog!’ OMG, all I want to know is who are these horribly evil little imaginary people that live in my daughter’s head and what do I have to do to shut them up? LOL I laughed so hard that I did in fact cry, part, laughing my butt off at her imagination and her keen sense of decorum to know that she needed to be delicate with her Mommy’s feelings, and part at the sad fact that my daughter has, in fact, noticed my imperfections and thinks I’m perfect anyways…or at least that is what she has chosen to let me believe , in spite of the facts.I love my daughter, she is ‘perfectional’ to me, and I am starting a diet tomorrow! I’ve also realized that I have to fight the urge and be more conscious of the “does my butt look big? Does this make me look fat?” comments that slip out of my mouth undetected. But like they say, ” I can lose weight, but poor Daddy..well, what do you do for being stupid?
2009/07/22
Girl You’ll be a Woman Soon
Today it happened. My little caterpillar began her official metamorphosis into a butterfly. We knew it was coming. We’ve talked about menstruation. She knew what to expect. We’ve been given different expectancies from different pediatricians but if we were going on genetics, she was right on the money.
We’ve been talking about the joys of womanhood a lot lately because I have been experiencing more than my fair share thanks to my cervical biopsy back in October. I’ve been the queen of TMI mostly because I can’t even believe this first disappearing and now, never stopping menstruation of mine. You’d think it was the last one that I’m ever having for all my life. It’s a freaking mass exodus. 3 months worth of uterine lining is.the.worst!
While I’m slipping headlong into the end of my days as a butterfly, my girl is slowly evolving into the most majestic butterfly that ever did live. Recently, I’ve begun to notice the roundness of her baby Buddha has given way to a more svelte outline. Her hair which was once stick straight has begun to wave. Mine did the same thing in middle school. And her once childlike figure is slowly fading out and in its place, a young woman is emerging.
All of these things, I expected. I prepared myself and the girls for. I didn’t want this time in their life to be traumatic like it was for me. Puberty was sort of thrust upon me one summer’s day in the middle of a McDonald’s bathroom. I immediately felt like I looked different and everyone must be able to tell. The same thing happened the first time I had sex. I didn’t want that to be the experience for my girls. I didn’t want them to feel like a freak and want to run away and hide. I wanted them to see it as something beautiful. Nothing to be ashamed of but to celebrate. No, I’m not talking a party for your period, that’s a bit much for me but the cake would be divine but who the heck wants to put on something cute when you’re bloated? Not me.
I want them to embrace their femininity with both hands and be as fierce and simultaneously as soft as they want to be. I want them to love being a woman. I want being a woman to not be so hard. I want them to be strong but able to be weak when need be. I want them to be who they are unapologetically.
So today, I picked up my little girl from school and she got in the car and said, excitedly, “Guess what?” She had a little smirk on her face. “What?” I asked. I thought maybe she had some juicy 7^th grade gossip or won some kind of an award. She was in a good mood.
“Mom, I got my period.”
Just like that. As blunt as anything that has ever come out of my mouth. She said it with just the faintest blush and a big smile and a tinge of pride as if she had just joined me in my secret women’s club. I’ll admit, I wasn’t really expecting it but I wasn’t not either. I just wasn’t expecting it today.
I asked how she was feeling. She said fine. In true tween fashion she “didn’t see the big deal.” Then I asked if she felt sick in her stomach or crampy and she said no, just tired. Then, I told her this was exciting and we should celebrate because it’s not every day you begin your journey into young womanhood. She smiled, then looked at me like I was slightly deranged and we all went for ice cream in December. For the record, no one looked at me like I was deranged while they were eating their blizzards.
I long ago stocked the girls’ bathroom with sanitary napkins and liners. They know about heating pads and ibuprofen for cramps, no caffeine because they exacerbate cramps, extra water to help reduce bloating and I’m installing an app on her phone tonight so she can chart her period. I used to hate surprise periods in those first few years.
She’s sleeping now. It’s 7 p.m. I told her she can ask me anything. I’m an open book. I know she knows that but I like to say it every once in awhile just to remind her. I couldn’t help kissing her on her forehead as my sweet young lady lay there in bed clutching her Fifi that she’s slept with every night since she was born. I want to freeze this moment and make it last forever but I know I can’t.
I’m happy for her, this is a milestone in a young woman’s life, and I am scared for her because I know what lies ahead. It’s hard being a woman. I want to hug her tight and hold her in my arms like a baby once more and at the same time I want to give her freedom to become who she will be.
For now, we take it day by day. We read together at night snuggled in my bed. We talk about everything and occasionally, she rolls her eyes at me but now, we share this special new bond. I am her mother and she is my daughter and now, we are both women and its one of the most beautiful moments of motherhood so far. I never expected it. We are growing closer as the baby and mother divide closes.
When we give birth, we are everything to our children and they are everything to us. We complete one another. We need one another, like air. But this new phase on our journey as mother and daughter, we grow closer as soon she will no longer need me but instead want me in her life and the choice of her choosing me, as I chose her, is truly the most beautiful thing I’ve yet experienced.
I’m going to stop writing now because as I said, I am on day 14 of my neverending period so I may be a tad bit overly emotional plus, my baby just became a woman so there’s that.
P.S. I asked my daughters permission before posting this, she said, “Hey, you’re the one who should be embarrassed talking about your bleed out. Not me. I don’t care.” So, there’s that. Like mother like daughter.
2017/12/13
What to Do When Your Tween Gets Bullied
Now that my daughter is getting older, I have found myself faced with the question of what to do when my tween gets bullied. It’s not like when they were toddlers. My daughters seem to be magnets for bullies. Despite being nice kids who are friendly with almost everyone (according to their teachers), they always seem to be the target of bullies. Now, I know we live in a world where parents like to overuse the term “bullying.” I don’t think I do but when you go single white female on my child and then harass her relentlessly when she just isn’t that into you, I think that constitutes being a bully, bordering on harassment and just a scoatch out of the stalker realm. Any way you slice it, you’re not being nice and I just don’t trust the situation.
My girls have had a bully almost every other year since preschool. I’ve taught my girls not to take it personally and to ignore these people. This is for my kid than the bully. I don’t want my daughters obsessing over what someone else thinks of them. Honestly, it’s irrelevant. I also don’t want my kid being teased, hurt and harassed because another kid doesn’t like something about them. Can’t we all just get along and move along.
I live in a reality based world. I don’t expect everyone to like everyone else. Sometimes it’s nothing more than non-compatible personalities. Hey, we’ve all known someone who we just don’t like based on fundamental personality differences and that’s okay. I don’t even want my girls to want or try to be liked by everyone because that just sets them up for a life of people pleasing and, pardon my French but, f*ck that.
This is how bullying usually goes. My kid starts acting weird. I ask them what’s going on. They don’t want to tell because they don’t want to tattle and they feel embarrassed that someone is picking on them, making fun of them or harassing them. I ask a few more times and finally, they end up breaking down and telling me.
I tell them to rise above it, ignore it and it’s not about them, it’s the fault of the bully. Bullies have low self-esteem and it manifests by them being mean to others to make themselves feel better. It’s a weak person’s way of leveling the playing field. Instead of rising to the occasion, bullies prefer to pull you down to their level. I also tell my children to tell me and they’ve done nothing wrong. Then, I handle it with the powers that be.
You see, in a world where kids plant bombs and go on shooting sprees, in a post-Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan world, I don’t believe in a “kids will be kids” do nothing parenting. I in no way fight my children’s battles but I also do not stand by and let my child feel like they are alone in the situation. I have no problem contact the school or wherever and keeping them abreast of the situation. Which brings us to this past weekend.
For a couple months, my daughter has been telling me that a girl at ballet doesn’t like her. Up until now, it’s been what I’ve perceived as a non-compatible personality situation. Petty things like bringing all the girls in class a piece of candy and purposely excluding just my daughter. Granted, it’s a shitty thing to do but it’s not “bullying” it’s just being a punk kid. I told my kid to ignore it and I bought her a bag of suckers and on the day she took them into ballet, I made sure she had enough for everyone. I thought let’s kill it with kindness. I’ve always taught my girls that you can’t control others reactions but you can control your own actions so put good into the world and if someone doesn’t return it then that is on them, not you. You do good, that’s all that you can do. Well, that didn’t help the situation at all.
Then, this particular little girl decided to try to befriend my daughter’s core group of friends. One-by-one she starting talking to them and trying to ingratiate herself into their lives by plying them with sweets and trinkets but her fatal flaw, as soon as they would talk to her, she would say something mean about my daughter and reveal herself to be the mean-spirited person she really was. Two of the girls were friendly to her in the way you are friendly to colleagues, which is essentially what they all are but she wanted more.
Still, she was calling my daughter prissy, annoying and saying that she talks too much. I mean, she is my daughter so she probably does talk a lot and prissy and annoying, well, that’s just that damn personality thing I was referring to. However, then it began to get weirder. Her tactic of befriending was more of collecting friends to exclude my daughter. It was more about alienating my daughter than having friends.
These girls are all tweens ages 11 and 12-years-old. My daughter has a group of four “best friends” who talk every day and have sleepovers and genuinely care about one another, more than just like a colleague more like sisters. They are protective of one another but they are a good group of girls. They are not mean. They actually try to be very diplomatic, as much as you can be at that age.
So, a couple weeks ago, the bully decided that if I can’t steal the friends and exclude Bella (my daughter) they will all suffer my wrath. First, she started calling one of the little girls “fat” to the three other girls. I told my daughter that they should shut it down and tell the bully it wasn’t okay but not tell the girl who she was calling fat because it would only hurt her feeling and make her feel embarrassed. Let’s be honest, as a tween girl, being called fat can have some serious ramifications, especially if you’re a ballerina. 12-years-old is when my eating disorders were first triggered. Then, she told another one of the girls that my daughter was fat, which by the way she is not even close to being. This girl just knows that calling any girl fat, no matter her size especially in their industry, is a trigger.
She is not saying any of this to the actual girls she is talking about but rather telling one of the other girls in the group. It’s like she enjoys not only talking shit about one girl but torturing the other girls by putting them in this awkward position. All the while, she is trying to befriend each of the other girls, except for my friend. She eventually goes through the entire group calling them all names like fat, can’t dance, blackhearts, prissy, annoying, clumsy, untalented and talks too much. It’s all very superficial but it really hurts these girls’ feelings and in the end, it’s not about whether I think it is serious or not, it’s about how it’s making the girls feel and they feel terrible. It’s about the effect it has on the bullied child. Then the notes began.
Apparently, the girls sticking together only angered the bully and she decided to attack them in letters. It started two weeks ago. She stuck a note in my daughter’s ballet bag that read, “I don’t like talking to annoying, prissy people. Sorry, not my type.” And she signed her name. My daughter didn’t even tell me. She crumpled it up and threw it into her bag. I guess my rise above it mantra is sticking.
Not getting the reaction she wanted from my daughter, she went on to one of her friends and wrote her a creepy single white female letter. Basically saying, your other three friends are shit and they called you shit when you weren’t here. Then she went on to say, let’s have a sleepover and exclude those girls. You need to become best friends with me, etcetera, etcetera. It was a very weird note but that’s the gist of it. Instead of taking the bait, the girl who was given the note shared the note with the other girls at a sleepover they had on Friday.
Instead of being mean back to her, the girls googled how to write a form letter and then must have ended up on some manager training site because they wrote a letter with the formula “for every bad thing you tell her to say something nice and always use empathy.” They brought me a copy of both letters because, as my husband says, the kids all know that you’re the mom who gets shit taken care of.
Super long story slightly shorter, I spoke with the principal and the director at the ballet on Saturday morning. They took it very seriously because the 4 girls also brought the original f the note the bully write and their reply for proof. You’d think they were going to court. I was assured by the ballet that it would be handled.
The girls as a whole at ballet were given a warning about behavior and etiquette and how this sort of petty behavior and bullying would not be tolerated. They were reminded that they are a company and are supposed to be tolerant and supportive of one another. However, the bully has an older sister who is friends with my daughter and her group of friends. She told her mom what her little sister had been up to and the mom handled her daughter, the bully. Did I mention this all happened on a performance day?
We all went home and thought it was handled. Until Sunday when one of the little girls was cleaning out her ballet bag and found a second note basically threatening my daughter and her group for getting her into trouble. She called them idiots and jerks and said she would get revenge at ballet and to have great lives in hell. Concluding with, I hate you. She wrote this note after she had been reprimanded by the ballet and her mother. So basically in the face of punishment she was angry enough to say to hell with the consequences.
I am dumbfounded. This has been going on, on and off, since last spring but has been slowly escalating. It’s to the point now, especially after the last note, that I don’t feel terribly comfortable with my child being around this child. I feel it’s getting to Tonya Harding levels of desperation.
What would you do if your tween gets bullied?

2016/10/17
Fat Girl Walking
There have been days where I’ve looked in the mirror and all I can see is the fat girl I’ve become and nothing else. Those days are over. You know the saying; “One day she believed she could and so she did”? That’s me this morning. I’m doing. I’m a little scared because this is the third time I’ve started this journey in 6 years. I’ve yet to get to my destination and I’m an all or nothing kind of person, so either I’m losing or I’m gaining. Not intentionally, mind you.
It just seems if I’m not actively trying to lose, I throw the baby out with the bath water and just eat anything and everything I want. You know the whole, “to hell with it, this days ruined anyways ” attitude. That’s how I got where I’m at today… 100 pounds away from where I need to be.
So, I’m sitting in a green, plastic chair feeling kind of sick in my stomach, you know that feeling you get when you leap without looking? Waiting for my first meeting (first day of the rest of my life and all that). The most humiliating part is over; a stranger has weighed me. She knows my weight. I can’t kill her, so I guess I’d better change it. That’s how I function, deadlines and public shaming.
What’s brought me here today? An airplane ride to Los Angeles was my come to Jesus meeting. Yep, airplane rides always remind me that I need to lose weight. You see, depending on the airline, every flight is a “cross your fingers, pray to God, hope the damn seatbelt fits” situation. It always does but lately, I’ve had to suck in more than I want to.
Then there was the layover in Minneapolis that had me literally running across the entire airport to make my next flight. I REALLY thought I was going to have a heart attack, right there in Minnesota. I was out of breath, coughing and my heart was pounding. I coughed and wheezed and it took me about 15 minutes to recover. Then it happened, I realized that I shouldn’t be putting my life in imminent danger trying to catch a flight. That’s not the call I want my husband and daughters to get.
All I could think, as I was fighting for my breath was…
Fat Girl Walking.
I was sure that someone recorded the entire thing and I was going to end up on Youtube or as a hilarious GIF. That was 3 weeks ago. This morning I’m sitting at Weight Watchers.
I’ve been here before. The first time, it worked and then we moved mid weight loss journey and everything got screwed up because if you’ve ever done Weight Watchers, you know that your meeting leader and the people in the meeting make a big difference. Then, I started Weight Watchers only to find out 2 weeks later that I was pregnant. This is my third time and my last time because this time, I’m not stopping.
Last month, I wrote a post about the Burden of being a Fat Woman. Then I met and heard from some incredible women who said that they could relate. All I could see when I looked at them was amazing women. Not fat. Not obesity. I saw their beautiful kind hearts and it made me sad that they could identify with my burden. Why couldn’t I do the same for myself? That’s when I decided to change the things I can, accept the things I can’t and to have the wisdom to know the difference.
I will never be 107 pounds again, nor do I even want to be because when I was, I was not healthy. I was probably the unhealthiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I can accept that. I want to be healthy and I want to be happy. I deserve to be happy. I want to be around in 50 years. I want to see my daughters go to prom, graduate from college, get married, have babies of their own and be happy. I want to live, not just exist. I want to be able to run across the damn Minneapolis airport if I want to without being in danger of dropping dead. I can change that. I know the difference between what is unattainable and what is realistic.
My mind is right. My heart is ready and my body desperately needs this. I deserve this. I’m doing this.
I’m letting go of my fat girl status.
2015/03/20
A Day in the Life of a Girl with Eating Disorders

Ever wonder what it’s like to have an eating disorder? It’s sad. If the eating disorders don’t kill you, the loneliness will. As I stood there looking in the mirror, facing the truth of my anorexic reflection I realized that I hated what I saw. As long as I could remember, I had never liked what I saw staring back at me in the mirror. Sure, if I tried really hard I could find one thing that was tolerable. One thing that was passable as average, but mostly I disgusted myself. The eating disorders had taken hold of me and now I was down the rabbit hole and sinking faster and faster into some alternative universe where nothing made sense and everything was upside down.
READ ALSO: Are Eating Disorders Genetic?
Logically, I knew that the khakis that I wore to work were so big that I had started wearing long johns under my uniform just to appear larger than I was which was ironic because I was severely restricting what I ate in order to lose weight.
I know what it’s like to have an eating disorder. I knew I was anorexic. It wasn’t a secret to me.
On some level, I knew that I was severely underweight but I wasn’t going to admit it, not even to myself. Admitting that I was at an acceptable weight or below without feeling happy, complete with myself, meant failure; failure at keeping control of my life. I knew that if I lost the tiniest bit of control of the runaway train that was my life, the entire thing would derail.
It’s hard to go full-on all the time. I was going to university full time, working full time, living in a large city away from all of my family and friends. I had bit off more than I could chew but I wasn’t ready to admit that I had eating disorders. I’d rather die than admit failure. Funny how I never knew what that statement truly meant before that very moment.
READ ALSO: Netflix’s Bones realistically portrays life with eating disorders
I’d left behind my entire life; my family, my friends, my boyfriend. I did all of this to run away from my life, thinking that if I got far enough away from it all, everything would work itself out but it didn’t. Feeling out of control and overwhelmed, nothing was working out the way I had planned it to be. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get it all back on track so I restricted and micromanaged in the only place I still had complete control; my food. I clung to my eating disorders for dear life, ironic since they were killing me.
Being a girl with eating disorders became the only description of myself that I recognized myself. It defined my existence.
I’d started restricting a couple of years prior but I’d been caught. It was embarrassing and I promised to stop but I never did. I couldn’t. If I would have let the chaos in for a second, my entire world have unraveled and it was pretty much held together by a stick of bubblegum and a prayer as it was so for 8 years, I hid what I was doing. I felt like a fraud.
It was the one secret that I couldn’t share with anyone because they’d try to save me from myself. I didn’t want to be saved. Or maybe I did but I wasn’t willing to turn my life over to someone else to save. I thought I had it under control. I didn’t.
READ ALSO: Eating Disorders Affect More than Just Your Body
I spent my days hiding the real me from everyone who cared about me. This made me bitter and angry. Why couldn’t they just accept me as I was? Why’d they try to change me? Why must they try to stop me? Didn’t they realize that this was the only thing that had gotten me through? I wore my thigh gap with hard-earned pride, why were they trying to take this small victory from me?
My eating disorders made me feel in control.
I needed to restrict to feel normal and the threat that someone would try to make me stop sent me into personal seclusion, becoming prone to crying inexplicably and blowing up for no apparent reason. Most days, I straddled between the reality of my disease and the delusion that it would all end up fine. Stupidly, I held on to that delusion like I was drowning and it was my only salvation.
READ ALSO: All Little Girls think they’re Fat
To let reality in, to let anyone in, meant to face the fact that I had already lost all control. Then one day, when I was at my bottom, the delusion was sweeping me away and drowning me but reality kept whispering in my ear, “This will be the last time. This is your last chance to save yourself.” That’s when I knew the eating disorders had to end.
I relinquished control. It wasn’t taken from me. I gave it up. My only real choice was that I had to give myself over to something bigger than myself, to be honest, and start fresh. Eating disorders are lonely and isolating. I just wanted to be free of the shackles of the lies. Hopeful, I wanted to live and love and grow old and that was not going to happen if I didn’t give up control of my runaway life. Embracing the chaos and facing my fears was my only option. None of that was going to happen if I was dead.
Eating Disorders will kill you if you don’t stop. Ask for help.
If you know someone who has eating disorders or suspect that your child might be headed down that road, I’ve written a checklist of warning signs that you might not have otherwise known to look for. Eating disorders no matter how inconsequential they may seem at first can quickly spiral out of control. Never ignore the signs because if you do, it may be too late to save your child.
This is just one day in the life of a girl with eating disorders, imagine how hard it is to live that life day after day with no end in sight?
This is what it is like in the day of a girl with eating disorders.
2013/02/27
Starbucks,Keurig, Diet Dr. Pepper and Diet Coke ~Collteral Damage of a Bad girl gone Good
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Photo courtesy of the internet
Starbucks, Keurig, Diet Dr. Pepper, and Diet coke are all collateral damage of a bad girl gone good.Yesterday was Fat Tuesday. Fat Tuesday! You know that one day of year that all of us Catholics live for.It’s the day ( more like the 5 day weekend) that we go crazy stuffing our faces with rich foods, drinking libations of the most toxic variety,and partaking of any and all activities that may fall under the verboten category on Wednesday. If there is any way shape or form that a particular item can be considered pleasurable, you can be sure, we, devout Catholics, are trying to consume as much as we can, as fast as we can. We are storing up our pleasures to sustain as over our long religious hibernation. It usually consists of a lot of really good people doing some really , maybe not so good things, for beads while stuffing their faces and filling their bellies.It’s a mad dash for the finish line before the game gets reset and we have to go to the back of the line. It should be renamed Sodom and Gomorrah day because unofficially, that’s what it is. It’s the day before the day that we make a great sacrifice for the next 40 days. It’s sort of our annual last hurrah. Because, really….we KNOW it’s going to be a long 40 days and nights. Depending on what you are giving up, it could be longer. I’m no half asser . I tend to give up the things I like the most, my vices.
This morning, as we all awoke in the cold light of day with our Fat Tuesday hangovers, it hit me like a ton of bricks that today was WEDNESDAY. Yesterdays was “that” day, but today is “THIS” day…Ash Wednesday. The official start of our 40 day sacrifice. For my very first accountable Lent, I gave up red meat. Oh No she didn’t. OH YES, I DID! And to prove that I’m no half asser, I was a vegetarian for the next 10 years. I was eventually done in by a McDonald’s cheeseburger, but I digress, that’s an entirely different post. I’ve given up cursing in the past. I realize that I should be embarrassed that cursing is something that any Mommy should be in actual need of giving up, but believe me when I say..I have a bit of a potty mouth. The worse part is that I do NOT realize when I drop the F* Bomb..until I get some gaping mouth look from a fellow Mommy, or worse..my husband. There was the year that I gave up alcohol.This was pre children. I would never willingly relinquish my Mommy juice ever again, unless with child, which I don’t really have any plans of ever doing again. But believe me, when I don’t drink,people ,who know me, automatically assume that I MUST be pregnant. But this year, I pulled on my BIG girl panties. I gave up caffeine. *GASP*
I know, I am as surprised as the rest of you. Why an insomniac prone to migraines thinks its a good idea to give up her number one vice is beyond me. Caffeine is another thing I usually only give up when with child but I feel that my addiction is getting too strong a hold on me. I’ve tried to ween myself off the Starbucks for quite some time. It is only a fabulous treat that I allow myself on occasion. You sexy toffee mocha with a couple extra shots , you really know how to speed up my pulse first thing in the morning.I have also personally been keeping Keurig k-cups in the black with my overwhelming addiction. And let’s not even get started on Diet coke. You evil bitch.I have tried to give you up on multiple occasions. But you and your maleficent sister Diet Dr.Pepper keep luring me back in to your web of self destruction. I am thoroughly convinced that there was no forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden..it was a piping hot cup of pure pleasure..it had to be a Trenta from Starbucks. If not, it was certainly a ice cold fountain diet coke with loads of ice that sent poor Eve, and the rest of us, on our path of pain.
That’s right people. I am doing what Eve couldn’t do in the garden..I’m passing up the caffeine for the next 40 days. It’s going to be hard. Let’s be honest.I’m pretty sure, it’s going to be like Charlie Sheen when he gave up the coke. Maybe even as ugly as Whitney when she gave up the crack , oh wait, bad example. Anyways, I wonder, do they make a synthetic caffeine that I can take intravenously to keep away the DTs?I just don’t think walking around in polite society looking like I have the shakes is going to be beneficial to anyone and probably a little frightening to the countless small children that I encounter on a daily basis. They have electronic cigarettes and nicorette gum for smokers trying to quit. There is methadone for methamphetamine addicts. So what’s going to get me through my withdrawals? Anyone have any words of advice for me?
Why did I give up caffeine you ask? I gave it up because if it wasn’t hard it wouldn’t be a sacrifice. It would be easy and everyone would do it. So if you see me on the street and I’m cursing, drunk and shaking like a fool…pat me on the back and say “Way to go girl!You will be kicking that nasty addiction right in it’s big hairy ass and making all right in the world again:)” I dream big folks.Now, since I didn’t have my coffee this morning,I’m off to take a nap..how else do you suppose I’m to get through my days on no sleep!Happy Mothering!
*After reading this,I’m thinking I may need to addend this to be coffee and Diet pop.I’m not sure going completely cold turkey off caffeine all together is going to prove a wise move.Hold me. I’m afraid.
** Oh yes, I had to add this because this blog also serves as my remembrance of my girls childhood. The Big Guy just went to pick Bella up at school and upon seeing her standing there, he promptly went at wiping the dirt off her forehead.He forgot it was Ash Wednesday and not until he looked up and saw the other mother and child sporting their ashes did he realize what he had just done.Damn lapsed Catholic:)
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2011/03/09
The Fickle Friendships of Five Year olds
This morning,we awoke to a dreary morning.These are the hardest to get the girls our of bed. I decided to get the morning started off on the right foot. I cranked up the i tunes and we had a early morning dance party to Liztomania. I know, not conventional but it got the girls up and moving and in a good mood. The rest of the morning went relatively smoothly.
We even arrived at drop off a few minutes early and Bella wanted to wait for her new friend. Yes, after all the drama of ‘feeling left out’ she has finally made a “best friend” in class. She has loads of friends outside of school but we all know how imperative it is to have at least one at the place we spend everyday.It’s been great. She has someone to play with and talk to, stand in the morning line with. They see each other at mass and they walk, arm in arm down to children’s liturgy. This friendship has been a source of heart happiness all around.Bella is actually looking forward to getting to school. ever morning.
But this morning, things went horribly wrong. In reality , it was not a big deal but through the eyes of a five year old, it was pretty monumental. As I said, we were specifically waiting for this little girl. Bella refused to get in line, lest she end up stuck by someone other than her bestie. Her excitement was palpable. So, there we stood and then..she arrived. Bella’s little face lit up like a Christmas tree. I was wearing what could only be described as a cat that ate the canary grin , myself. How could I not be, Bella was so happy.
I watched the little girl approaching and she had that running late/woke up late/ pissed at the world look on her face. As an adult, I knew that these were the tell tale signs of a bad mood. But before I could stop the train wreck.. it happened. Bella made a b line for the little girl and when she ran up in line next to the little girl, still smiling and excited, her excited chatter was greeted by what I refer to as the, “Why the hell are you speaking to me” blank expression.You know the one, we’ve all seen it once or twice in our lifetime. That look that makes you feel about 2 inches tall; simultaneously breaking your heart and making you feel stupid in the same moment.
I watched as all the color drained from Bella’s face and I could virtually see her heart sink and her stomach knot. She became silent, and she looked at me. her eyes nervously darted towards me and cried out ” What’s going on?Why is my friend being mean to me?” I saw her eyes welling with tears. In my head, I was willing her not to cry. She held my gaze with a nervous smile.I had to swallow a huge lump in my throat because while I understood that this little girl was just having a bad morning, Bella did not .All that she knew was that her best friend wouldn’t talk to her.
Of course, I came over and gave Bella a hug and kiss in line and told her that I loved her. I also told her to not worry about it, maybe the little girl was just having a hard time waking up. Then I walked to the back of the line to wait for Bella to go into the building. She held my gaze, as if it were my hand and I was giving her strength. The bell rang and as she walked away, I saw her head drop a little. My heart was breaking for her.
Her class is in the basement and from the drop off, you can see her classroom. I never linger and watch her come into class but she looked so deflated and defeated that I could not, in good conscience, leave without knowing she was OK. I watched as she came into class and made yet another failed attempt at talking to her friend. My heart broke a little more. Then she continued to follow the little girl around the room. She was determined. Then they sat down and I realized the connection, their best friend status stems from seating geography; probably nothing else. Finally, she looked up and her sister and I smiled and waved. Then we exchanged air kisses. I gave her the thumbs up and she smiled. Then the little girl caught sight of us and I smiled and gave her a thumbs up too. Next, both girls were waving their arms wildly, smiling and giggling with one another as they shared this moment of Gabs and I standing outside smiling at them. I left and I felt that maybe I had righted the injustice. At least they were talking.
I know that I can’t live my daughters lives for them. But as their mother, I want to shield them from all the unnecessary hurt in the world. I think that is pretty common for us Mommies. I walked to my car and I almost lost it because I’m not sure what hurt or happiness the day holds for Bella and worse, I have no control over it. You know, I can take anything the world wants to throw at me but I become extremely fragile when it comes to my girls. My heart is worn like an exposed nerve when it comes to them. I realize that these incidents are part of growing up and any hurt feelings are just casualties of getting to that bigger part of their life. But all I want to do is wrap her tightly in my arms and shield her from all the injustices and hurt in the world. When it comes to my love for my girls there is no reason, no boundaries, no diplomacy…just love.
2010/09/22
That Day My Teenage Girl Told Me How She Really Felt
Teenage girls get a bad rap. They are painted as moody, bitchy, argumentative creatures who are just plain mean, even cruel at times and above all else, they hate their mothers. I’m not sure that’s a true representation. I know being a teenage girl is difficult on a good day.
Now, I’ve never personally hated my mom. There was a brief moment in history when I thought I knew better than her and I was inclined to telling her so. I believe it the ages of 15-17. I talked back so much, it’s a wonder that I have any teeth left in my head. I was very willful and headstrong, as children becoming adults often are. I was one step above throwing tantrums.
My mom was a saint, aside for the occasional moments when she just couldn’t stand it anymore and would, without saying a word, push her bony knuckles into my thigh. Don’t feel sorry for me, I deserved much worse and now, I know what restraint it took to not say a damaging word to me.
I always wanted to skip that part of motherhood and to be honest, I was terrified of it. It was the part when my mom and I put some space between us, or rather I did. I took every word and look as a transgression from her. She really could do no right. Now I see, how hard she was trying. After all, when I was 17, she was a mother of 4 teenagers, a 10-year-old and a newborn. I don’t know how she managed and right now, I applaud her for not killing us all.
READ ALSO: My Daughter Loves Me; the In-Between Years
People warned me of what I had to look forward to when my own girls entered the teen years. I had nightmares of my sweet, loving daughters turning into gum smacking, eye rolling, ish talking monsters but mostly I feared the wedge it would drive in our relationship. Honestly, it’s been hovering like a rain cloud for their entire childhood. I think it’s part of why I’ve tried so hard to build an open, honest relationship with my girls. It’s what I always wanted with my own mom.
Don’t get me wrong, my mom and I were close. She’s one of my favorite people but I think we could have been closer had we clung to each other during the rough patch rather than have pushed one another away. Heated emotions allowed us to walk away. At the time, I think we both felt it was to cause less damage but in retrospect, it allowed for complacency. I realized some relationships are worth staying and fighting; the one with your mom is one of those.
Here I am many years later, entering the teen years again. This time I’m the mom. I’ve put in 13 years preparing both of us for this moment. It’s been work and consistency every single day. It’s meant having hard discussions, being completely open and not being perfect. It’s meant tears and hard choices but always my heart was looking to the long game. Every moment has been a teachable moment. There is no room for complacency in my motherhood.
I never know if I’m doing it right. Most of the time, it feels like I am doing it absolutely wrong. But then every so often, my daughters do something that validates everything I’ve been doing. It’s never big sweeping gestures. I don’t want those. Anyone can do those, it’s like going to church on Christmas. It comes in quiet moments in the form of unexpected words or actions that I’m not even sure are meant for me to see. It’s in the kind of human beings they are becoming but sometimes it’s more obvious but still just as powerful and meaningful and I find myself crying because I am moved.
READ ALSO: Tips for Raising Teenage Girls and Not Damaging Your Relationship
Why am I talking about this? Well, a couple weeks ago I was visiting my parents alone. No Big Guy and no girls. I actually got to be just a daughter for the first time in many years and it was glorious, but that’s a post for another time. Anyways, back to my story.
While I was at my parents’ house not being in charge and having all of my whims indulged, my phone dinged. I was mid-conversation with my mom. Ironically, it was my daughter. Wasn’t sure that I wanted to open the message because, honestly, I was in such a good mood and I just knew it was going to be the girls pulling me into an argument they were having or them trying to convince me to overrule a decision their father had made. I never do that by the way because marriage=solid front.
Anyways, against my better judgment, I opened the message from my teenage girl.
Did I mention this was during the last couple weeks of school so hell was breaking loose? The girls bickering had gotten out of control. It moved beyond simple arguing and tattling to a full contact sport and it was exhausting to watch and to mediate. This is one of those moments when I completely feel like I am failing at parenting. But, I can’t ignore my children. I opened the email and this is what I found.
<span data-mce-type="bookmark" style="display: inline-block; width: 0px; overflow: hidden; line-height: 0;" class="mce_SELRES_start"></span><span data-mce-type="bookmark" style="display: inline-block; width: 0px; overflow: hidden; line-height: 0;" class="mce_SELRES_start"></span>
Not going to lie. It made me cry. It made me puff out my chest. It made me feel all the feels and I immediately ran over to my own mom and showed her what an amazing granddaughter she has. She raised me, so she gets credit too. And I think we both felt all warm and fuzzy inside knowing that even if our relationship may have been strained for a few years, it made me the mom I am today. A teenager who randomly sends her mom this song for no reason at all, well, I’d say I’m doing something wrong…at least on that day.
Love your teenagers the way you loved your toddlers; same kid, different body. You keep putting that love out there, even when everyone wants to walk away and it’s easier, you keep momming that kid. You might not know it by looking at them when they’re ignoring you and rolling their eyes but they see you. They hear you. They love you and they know you love them unconditionally. P.S. It might kill me when they leave for college.
What has your teenage girl or teen boy done that’s surprised you?
2018/06/07
Hispanic Heritage: My Journey from Assimilation to Empowerment

Estimated reading time: 9 minutes
It’s September and that means it is time to celebrate Hispanic heritage and Latino cultural identity month. Or the month the U.S. has decided to celebrate the Spaniards’ colonization of Central and South American indigenous people. High five! If you’re Latino, you know how we all feel about colonization. It’s the fiesta we didn’t sign up for. It’s the gentrification of our bloodlines that none of us wanted or asked for but we’ve turned the story around into something beautiful. Hispanic and Latino people are some of the most loyal, loving and warm people you will ever meet and I am not just saying that because I am one. So let’s start by celebrating our diverse roots and vibrant tapestry of our varied cultures. Viva la Raza! 🇲🇽 ❤️
It’s time to reflect on the rich heritage that makes each of us who we are. As many of you may know already, I am the product of a biracial love story; my dad is from Mexico and I’ve got a whole lot of indigenous Tarascan/ Purepecha roots to prove it and my mom is from Tennessee via Ireland and the U.K. My bloodline is a beautiful amalgamation of Indigenous, Spaniard, Portuguese and Italian with a smattering of a variety of other European countries, as well as some Congolese and Filipino blood just to keep me spicy. At the end of the day, I’m almost equal parts European and Indigenous. But, as any person of color knows, we all live categorized and marginalized by the one drop rule (assigning the minority status of their lower-status parent group to mixed-race individuals). For me, these people, esta Raza, are my people.
This is my journey from assimilation to empowerment.
Growing up, I was the fair-skinned child with freckles ( similar to my daughters), dark brown hair with a slight auburn undertone and amber eyes. In the summer, my skin got golden and my hair got lighter. This was confusing to some, myself included. Like many biracial kids I’ve ridden the identity rollercoaster. Societal stereotypes don’t help. Year after year, I’d change how I identified racially on my enrollment cards out of guilt and a sense of loyalty to each parent. Often, I felt ( and was made to feel by the society I was growing up in) as though I never fit in; not white enough to be white and not brown enough to be brown. I think that’s a fairly common situation for a lot of biracial children. Don’t get me wrong, I love my biracial heritage and culture, it just got a little confusing for me as a child. I felt like a chameleon but also like a liar because I could so easily blend in. In the end, feeling like a girl with no country; an immigrant daughter in hiding. In the end, it made me stronger and prouder of my culture and where I came from and I know, better than most, that Latinos come in all skin shades, hair and eye colors ( just like every other race).
I was raised 100% in Mexican culture but I lived in the white world. I felt like an outsider but I easily blended in because of the color of my skin. At home, I’d hear stories of how my father would be mistreated and underestimated because of his accent and racially profiled because of the color of his skin. I couldn’t relate to any of it. At one point, my proud father even encouraged all of his children to identify ourselves to the world using our mom’s Anglo surname just to be marked safe from racism. This proud Latina daughter was absolutely horrified at the thought. I had no idea of the pain he had suffered or the pride he put aside to even suggest this, until I was a mother myself.
Just because you’re “kidding” when you say it, racial micro-aggressions are still racism.
I remember as a young teenager hearing my dad’s stories of blatant and micro-aggressive racism that he’d endured in the world outside of our home and not being able to relate to any of it in the slightest. If I’m being completely honest, I probably gaslit him from my own ignorance. But we don’t know what we don’t know, and when we finally do, we’re supposed to do better and make better choices. I couldn’t conceive of the atrocities he endured by simply existing in a world that hated him because of the color of his skin, until I experienced it myself.
You see, I’d spent the entirety of my childhood assimilating into Caucasian culture. In case you didn’t already know this, that is what many Latino parents had to do back in the 70s, to protect their children and give them the best chance to succeed in white America. Like I said, I was a fair skinned freckled Mexican who blended in… until I didn’t and then I couldn’t be unseen.
When I was 18, I met and started hanging out with a group of Latino kids from a neighboring area, who all originated from the same region as my dad back in Mexico. Finally, people who got me and my cultural experience. We all met when my brother started playing soccer with them in East Chicago. Immediately, I felt seen, understood , not judged by stereotypes and, finally, I felt like I’d found my community. Yep, it was a group of teenage soccer playing boys who saved me from my racial identity crisis. This group of guys affectionately referred to themselves as La Raza and while at 18, I had no true idea of the impact this community of young men would have on my life, to me La Raza meant family.
For me, La Raza taught me what Hispanic heritage and the Latino idenity experience was beyond just my traditional family.
The more I grew to know these guys, the more I grew to love my la Raza brothers … the more I grew to know and love myself and my Hispanic heritage. And that’s when the veil between who I was and who I’d become was removed and that’s the moment that changed who I am today. I finally saw the unseen racial micro-aggressions and blatant racism that surrounded me and could no longer unsee it. Assimilating and cultural blending were no longer an option for me.
That moment happened on a simple ride home on a warm summer’s night. We’d spent the day together, probably at the beach or a cookout and had been having a great time, laughing, talking, listening to Mexican music and just enjoying each other’s friendship. But my dad is very traditional and I had a curfew until I moved out of my parents house at 22. Needless to say at 18, the rule was that I needed to be home before 11pm. The guy I was talking to drove me home along with 2 of our friends. Mind you, we’re all Mexican but I’m the only white-passing person in the car that night. Keep in mind, these were not thugs or gang bangers. They were young Mexican men who just graduated from high school and were headed to college but happened to be a beautiful shade of golden brown that summer’s night.
In a hurry to get me home before curfew, at my urging, the driver cut through the parking lot of the gas station and that was the choice that changed my entire perspective on who I was in the world. That was the night that a cop’s racial “micro-aggression” cut me deep and opened my eyes wide making assimilation no longer an option.
White skin privilege isn’t really a privilege but a burden.
The cut through the parking lot was a traffic violation at the officer’s discretion, but what came next had everything to do with 3 brown boys in a car with a “white girl”. The cops pulled us over. Up until this point in my life, I’d unknowingly and obliviously benefited from my white skin privilege.
In my desperation to make my curfew, I repeatedly asked the driver to “ask them why they pulled us over” which was met with them screaming at us all to get out of the car, for the boys to put their hands on the car and for all of us to identify ourselves.
Each one respectfully and calmly gave his name ( as all brown moms teach their little brown boys to do in order to avoid danger) and then, it was my turn. “Debi Cruz, ” to which the officer asked, “ How do you spell that? Cruise? Kruse? Crews?” When I responded, “Cruz”, I suddenly went from being treated like a kidnap victim to an assailant. In his next breath, he told me to place my hands on the car. I realized the only thing that had changed was that the officer realized I too was Mexican.
After that, they cuffed the driver and threw him into the back of the patrol car because the driver, at my urging, had asked why we’d been pulled over. The two other young men asked if they could take the vehicle to drive me home because of where I lived and my impending curfew. None of us were drinking. We were approximately a 10 minute drive from home but it was a dangerous neighborhood and definitely not one that a teenage girl should be walking in at midnight. The officer looked directly into my face, sized me up and down, and said, “Nah, she can walk.” Then, they drove away with my boyfriend and his car keys, leaving me and the other two guys abandoned in the gas station parking lot. I can’t help feeling like if I’d said my name was spelled, “ Crews “, they’d have given me a ride home because the officer’s entire demeanor changed towards me with the correct spelling. It may seem like a micro-aggression to you but to anybody who’s experienced this kind of racism, it’s just as hurtful, demeaning and demoralizing as any blatant racism ever could be.
That night, those two gentlemen ( my guardian angels) walked me home through a ghetto they didn’t belong to, making it more dangerous for them than it was for me. They did it because that’s what family does; you lookout for one another. When I got home, I explained to my parents what happened and the guys and I spent the next 2 hours calling the rest of the Raza to raise bail and we did.
After over the last 30+ years of friendship, la Raza has celebrated, cried with, lived, laughed and loved together. We’ve weathered college, attended weddings, funerals, birthdays, quinceaneras, and now, our children’s milestones together. We’ve grown from children to parents and grandparents together. The bond is unbreakable. Each one reaches back to help the other one up. This is the true beauty of la Raza, it is pure, unconditional love and family. Over the years, there have been times when I’ve gotten so caught up in my own life that I’ve taken this group for granted but there’s never been a moment when I wouldn’t stand up and protect each and everyone of them. Mi Raza has made me who I am today; eyes wide open, scared but brave enough to face all the ugly in the world because I know they’ve always got my back. Those young Mexican men made me into a warrior princess unafraid to face the world’s challenges big or small.
So this Hispanic heritage month, as we celebrate Mexican Independence Day this weekend, I’d like to shout out to my la Raza boys ( and girls, there were a few of us) , “Viva la Raza.” Let’s cherish our heritage and the family we choose along the way.
Join us in celebrating Hispanic Heritage Month and the vibrant tapestry of our diverse cultures. It’s a time to reflect on our rich heritage and embrace our roots. Let’s come together as a community and honor the strength and resilience that defines us. Subscribe, share and become part of the conversation if you enjoyed this article.
2023/09/14