Category Chicano Studies
On the very day learned about “ground scores,” I literally stumbled upon a weird looking skull. It wasn’t quite fully bleached; there was still gross head stuff on the top of the cranium. Since i’m no one’s forensic biologist, I… Continue Reading →
The simple truth is that there is something to my argument that an entire culture can become “traumatized” and then reflect PTSD symptoms. The drive for relief from the constant and seemingly nonexistent source of the anxiety that accompanies PTSD… Continue Reading →
We lose our culture, we turn into a rock. We lose our language, we die. Think about it: A rock is nothing more than a song that’s frozen. All the vibrations that once came together seize and harden and simply… Continue Reading →
I am absolutely THRILLED to invite everyone to the launch of FS2 Supply Co.! This newly formed outfitter is launching its New Mexico based line of high grade T-Shirts at the Bloody Maria Fiesta hosted by the Cities of Gold… Continue Reading →
On April 5th, in partnership with the Santa Fe Community College’s Center for Diversity and Integrative Learning, I will be presenting on Historical Trauma and how it informs mental health and addiction in New Mexico. More importantly, I will discuss… Continue Reading →
In life, we have two (2) options; either we fight the past, or we make friends with each and every upcoming moment we’re given. I can’t see any other choices. If we choose to fight our past and berate ourselves… Continue Reading →
in the barrio, we called ourselves, Chicanos. I always believed that was what I was: A Chicano kid. I had no idea growing up that there isn’t any real such thing as a Chicano. I came to learn that in… Continue Reading →
There’s times when words will enter my mind and then buzz around and sting my thoughts throughout the day. What’s strange to me is that when those certain words come around, they do so through distinct and unconnected channels. A… Continue Reading →
It was late on a Saturday night; maybe two or three in the morning when I awoke to the sound of toes tipping across my carpet. I was twelve and scared to death. Still, I listened to the shuffling going… Continue Reading →
I’m often criticized for being too idealistic in my approach to my work and my life. It’s getting harder and harder to sit in meetings where people are saying things like, “Sure, in a perfect world, we could do things… Continue Reading →
