Something about [the election] really put a sort of clarifying lens on which conversations I needed to amplify and which ones were haunting me. I knew I had to figure out a way to talk about the formation of my identity, because I understood [my son’s] was forming right in that moment. There were circles to what he was going through and to what I had gone through, and I had never seen them talked about in America.
"You are not Latina," Tanya Saavedra's stepfather once told her. "You are Jewish! You will never be able to get rid of that."
You came to me, now grown the morning after the election, and cried. This wasn’t supposed to happen, you said. I didn’t know what to say in return.