And I thanked mi papa who'd always said to me that we, los Indios, the Indians, were like the weeds. That roses you had to water and giver fertilizer or they'd die. But weeds, indigenous plants, you gave them nada-nothing; hell you even poisoned them and put concrete over them, and those weeds would still break the concrete.
Victor VillasenorNo, you are not to complain or question who you are, but instead, grow, reaching for the light that's inside you.
Victor VillasenorCould it be we stifle our children's genius by languaging them too quickly away from their hearts and into the straight and narrow confines of linear thinking?
Victor Villasenor