There are things in our blood that are just naturally passed down to us, whether we want to recognize them or not.

Paradise is a state of being, more than just the name of a suburb or a home.

Lately, Mami’s eyes have been so dark, I don’t like looking into them because I’m afraid I’ll fall in.

Individually, every grain of sand brushing against my hands represents a story, an experience, and a block for me to build upon for the next generation.

When we illuminate the road back to our ancestors, they have a way of reaching out, of manifesting themselves...sometimes even physically.

I guess it all depends on whom you ask and when you ask. Race, I've learned, is in the eye of the beholder.

This thing I am feeling, I’m almost certain, is the closest I’ll ever come to standing somewhere in between truth and reconciliation.