I was raised to dream of being the All-American girl: over-achieving, well-mannered, with a cute face to sweeten the deal. Yet there I was, a little girl with thick dark hair growing in places where it wasn’t welcome. Y el nopal en la frente.
Then there was my two-tone skin: milky white at birth, but painted in various places by the ruthless Texas sun. My shyness and pitiful math skills were paired with my appetite for fajita, rice, and beans over square meals. I was a far cry from being America’s Sweetheart.
Continue reading “Pride and Privilege”