So Sacheen Littlefeather was born Maria Louise Cruz in Salinas,California. She’s Apache, Yaqui, and Pueblo on her fathers side where the name Cruz came from. My alcoholic maternal grandfather who I never met swore up and down we are Apache and he’s from California.  My last name is Cruz. 

Isn’t that interesting? 
Latinos don’t know who they are. I know I don’t. 

So idk about you but when I learned how to dance cumbia, I didn’t learn how to dance cumbia with a partner, you know like twirling in the bigger circle, like I remember dancing with my grandpa once and he tried to dance all advanced cumbia with me and it just didn’t work. And this is one of the great tragedies of my life. 

I’ve always wondered if my “mommy” was actually my “mami” ? 

You know, cause latinos say mami, and because my history is some kind of mix of Mexico, Chicano, American, Texan etc, I suppose it could really be either. 

Why the fuck am I here? 


To do what? To speak Spanish? To be someone I am not? To look for the person I was supposed to be? Why am I so ashamed to be who I am? You know why? Because it’s hard, it’s soooo hard to have one foot in one place and the other in another. 

How can I be a Latina when they don’t even claim me because I don’t know the language? WELL GUESS WHAT PUNKS I AM? My name is Cruz, my first name is Sierra, and yes I had tortillas and refried beans and enchildas and tacos and tostadas growing up! But you know what else I had? I had the whole other side of my life too, I had good ol’ Texan stuff, brisket and barbecue and sliced bread and etcetera and etcetera. 

Why should I keep apologizing for being one person stuck in two worlds, how can I continue to when I feel like more and more I don’t know who I am? Why are there so many rules for identity? I can’t destroy myself over this, but I feel like I am and I have and it hurts, because I’m trying. Everyday I’m trying, or I feel like I am, being here is entering the wound. 

The language is a reminder of the person I’m not, but how dare anyone myself included try to make me feel like my existence is nothing, I will not apologize for that, so yeah I am 7th or 3rd generation Mexican. NO. I don’t speak Spanish. NO. I don’t know where my family live in Mexico. NO NO NO. 

I can’t keep hurting myself like this because I can’t decide what part of me to ignore and what part of me to lose or to keep, why should I compromise myself, how can I be asked over and over again to deny the person I am, the history that has led me here. NO. 

The answer is no. 

I can see it now in December

My tías obsessed with being thin but always handing me pan dulce: So Sierra how did you lose that weight in Chile?
Me: Oh you know, anxiety.
Tías: ...
Me: Yeah it's great you should get some, the pounds just slide off cause you know, you're not eating.

Today wasn’t a good day, well I take that back it was a good day till it wasn’t.

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#whydon’tIknowspanish #faillatina #ecuadornextweek #theyhavetwogirlsmyage #fuq #hashtag #IamonlycharminginEnglish #Ibetheyliketalking #halp #INEEDTOKNOWSPANISHYESTERDAY

So all this Chilean Visa Consulate stuff would be fine if I was going to be in the U.S. to get it but now it looks like I will already have left for Ecuador (with my passport)  which means I have to spend mad bank to get into the country without a visa….I SUCKKK.

Too stressed to deal~going running.

You know at this point I’d settle for my dad’s struggle bus Spanish.

2nd generation problems~

Squiggle lines under sopapilla and fideo. Word, please get some cultura and stop with your squiggles. The beautiful delicious sugar cinammon-y treat and tasty tomato noodle meal do not deserve this treatment. 

Word, you ignorant slut, stahp. 

WORD IS STILL TELLING ME INTSERCTIONALITY ISN’T A REAL WORD GET WITH IT YOU MISOGYNISTIC PIECE OF TECHNOLOGY JEEZ

I hate my neighborhood. It’s filled with rich snobby beautiful people.

My hatred for them doesn’t consume me,
it’s merely an annoyance that rises to the surface whenever I am home. 

These people I’ve known all my life and still can’t stand, it’s a breath of fresh air that none of us go to the same university but breaks such as summer and winter we’re all STILL in the same area, as if I can run away to New York all I want but still my parents house is close to theirs…and by default at times I am still close to them…which I loathe. 

 1
25 Jan 12 at 5 pm
tags: personal  problems 

Guys I specifically walked past Slocum today…uh.

but when I thought about it it made more sense, than the quad.I guess its worse that I was too eager to walk that way.