Introduction 💕
Nice to meet you!
Coming home from a NAHJ conference where I spent the last four days learning from some of the most brilliant, brave and passionate journalists I’ve ever met, catching up with friends, and having long conversations about the state of the world right now, I have been reflecting a lot.
From the panels and talking to people, I gleaned something special: many of us are the first in our families to work professional jobs like this or be able to travel for work. We are breaking cycles and uplifting our communities.
When I was at USC, I met a lot of white students who had parents who went to college and worked professional jobs like business owners or lawyers. I was the opposite — respectfully, I didn’t want to be like my parents. They worked jobs to survive, to pay the bills. I wanted to do something I loved and mattered to me and other people, and gave me freedom and made me feel alive, which is something I always felt a lot of guilt and shame about. Until I met someone at NAHJ who told me they feel the same way.
My parent’s sacrifices have immensely shaped who I am today. They always knew they wanted better for me.
Some of my friends would ask me about my son and what year of school he would be going into. “Second grade,” I told them. And that reminded me that he is almost at the age I was when I had read the entire Twilight Saga. I was the accelerated reader champion at my elementary school, but that was entirely because of my dad. Some of my fondest childhood memories revolve around reading and writing with him. When I was just seven — my son’s age — my dad would challenge me with big chapter books ahead of my reading level that intimidated me at that age. He would read the books before I did so he could make sure it was “appropriate” and so he could ask me questions about it.
There were also many nights he would gather my father at the dinner table to write books. We would fold a couple pieces of blank paper into little makeshift books, and then write and illustrate stories into them. I would write stories about various adventures a character loosely based off myself would go on with her talking dog (I still wish animals could talk). When we were done, we would read the stories to each other. That act of coming together to bond over and practice writing sparked a passion of reading and writing that would lead me to major in English and creative writing undergrad and then get involved in the student newspaper, something that would lead me to a series of events and opportunities that led me to the conference.
My dad is in prison now -- he has been since I was 15 -- but he still finds ways to encourage me. He talks about co-writing books together and starting a father-daughter podcast when he comes home. Per prison rules, we only get phone calls in 15-minute increments (thanks to the powerful advocacy of other families with loved ones in prison, these calls are now free as of 2023). He calls me everyday to hear about how work is going for me, and he has me send him my articles on the GTL tablets the incarcerated population gets (now those messages at five cents). He reassures me everyday how proud he is of me and supports my freelancing journey even when I go weeks without getting work. He always reminds me that things will get better.
Since he did that for me, now I am using the skills and passion he instilled in me to fight for him and other people like our family. My dad loves Coldplay — one of the songs that we used to listen to together went “ my heart is my gun” and “my army of one is going to fight for you”, and that is exactly what I feel like I am doing by being a journalist. That is why I cover prison issues and immigrant justice, and why I portray resistance narratives by people in the community. I’m fighting for my father, my family, my community, and it’s never been more at stake or important. I refuse to stay “neutral” and entertain both sides when one of the sides is dehumanizing and hunting down my people.
And at a moment where immigrants are under attack and fear mongering narratives exist about people in prison, it is important to stand up for the vulnerable or at risk people who can’t and call out the systems that are attacking them. These attacks on our communities are personal. This administration is launching attacks on Latino immigrants at their workplaces and homes across the country, we can’t sit by and watch. That is the reason I wanted to start this blog. I felt like I needed to do something more because writing journalistic stories, reposting resources and calling out ICE and Trump on social media didn’t feel like it was enough. And I hope this blog will help inspire other journalists and other people to take a stand.
I am the way I am because my family had a vision for me, they wanted to build generational wealth and success. I’m not going to take that lightly, I am going to channel that passion and energy back into them -- now it is my turn to support them and other people with their background. Throughout this blog, I am going to talk about issues affecting us and call out the people behind these issues.