by R.R. Tavárez | Aug 28, 2022 | Poetry
Hace calor Abuelita says We find her in the kitchen of the apartment Wearing nothing but a bra and a half slip. ¡Mami! Tia gasps I laugh, and laugh, and laugh Six-years-old and sixty Adjusting to this new place. The white people keep telling us It’s not the heat It’s...
by R.R. Tavárez | Nov 19, 2012 | Essay
They called me “100% gringo.” If I had been white enough to blush, my anger and frustration would have instantly been revealed. However, my skin wasn’t white. They didn’t see my anger, frustration and shame. Back in the United States, calling a Latino a gringo was...
by R.R. Tavárez | Jul 5, 2012 | Journal Entry
Usually, for me, one of the most nerve wrecking things about air travel is air travel. If you get in a car accident, you get out of the car and put your feet on the ground. If a ship starts to sink, you put on a life jacket and swim to shore. When it comes to...
