Write in the kitchen, lock yourself up in the bathroom. Write on the bus or the welfare line, on the job or during meals.

I change myself, I change the world.

Write in the kitchen, lock yourself up in the bathroom. Write on the bus or the welfare line, on the job or during meals.

These my two hands / quick to slap my face / before others could slap it.

To survive the Borderlands you must live sin fronteras be a crossroads.

To separate from my culture (as from my family) I had to feel competent enough on the outside and secure enough inside to live life on my own. Yet in leaving home I did not lose touch with my origins because lo mexicano is in my system. I am a turtle, wherever I go I carry 'home' on my back.

The U.S.-Mexican border es un herida abierta where the Third World grates against the first and bleeds. And before a scab forms it hemorrhages again, the lifeblood of two worlds merging to form a third country - a border culture.