a thing my cousin did

family gatherings
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So Some Stuff Happened While You Were Gone

It was strange to come home.

Except it wasn’t home anymore. Somewhere in the intervening years of grinding through undergrad and graduate coursework, the house Jazz grew up in had stopped being home.

Danielle had been given Jazz’s room when she left halfway across the country to Yale. During holiday visits they would share, Dani insisting that all her time “camping out” under overpasses and old mausoleums as proper precedent for her to sleep on the floor.

A few times Jazz caught herself thinking of it as her room, instead of Danielle’s. She could still recognize the room she’d stayed in for seventeen years, an old imprint she felt in the air, pins and needles in her scalp; her hands itched with the impression that if they just peeled away the sci-fi posters and anime wall-scrolls and the global Polaroid collage the old room would still be there, waiting beneath like a layer of wallpaper.

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Family (e.d.)

“Hey Y/n, we leave for the party in about two hours. You should start getting ready.” My mom states knocking on my bedroom door lightly making me sigh to myself.

“Okay.” I call, typing the rest of my text and hitting send before I push myself off of my bed. I pull out the dress and heels that I’d bought specifically for this occasion; excited to wear the dress but dreading going to the party with my family. We always have these end of the year parties with my family in which we rent this really nice venue and dress super formally so we can get together as a family to close out the year in our own way. I used to thoroughly enjoy them when I was younger because I could spend time with my cousins while the adults drank and did their thing, but now I absolutely dread going to them. As I’ve gotten older, these parties have been more about the adults trying to one up each other with their latest accomplishments than anything else. To say the least, the tension is always high by the end of the night and there’s always an argument that leads to this long and drawn out rift in a relationship that lasts until everyone has forgotten about it. To say the least, there’s always some kind of drama and it crushes the loving atmosphere really quick.

I perfect the finishing touches of my makeup and put the brush down feeling satisfied with how I looked.

“Y/n, it’s time to go!” My mom shouts up the stairs as I take a few full body mirror selfies. I quickly grab my heels and clutch before I hurry down the stairs, clumsily sliding my heels on at the bottom.

“Oh my goodness y/n, you look absolutely stunning.” My mom gasps smiling brightly, “Look at her Y/D/N, doesn’t she look beautiful? Jarred is going to be speechless when he sees you.”

“Excuse me?” I ask wiping my smile off of my face. “He shouldn’t even be there, this is a family event.”

“I just thought the two of you could use some time together. His whole family is coming, not just him.” She explains making my eyebrows furrow together.

“That doesn’t make it any better mom, their whole family acts like they’re better than everyone else. Wait, is this why you wouldn’t let me bring Ethan? Because you invited Jarred?” I question trying not to snap at her.

“I just figured maybe if you spent more time with Jarred you’d-”

“You’re ridiculous. Why can’t you accept that I’m happy with Ethan?” I

“Let’s go, we’re going to be late.” My dad cuts in, interrupting before anything else could be said. “After you,” he smiles at me gesturing towards the door.

The car ride was pretty tense and almost silent the entire time. I decided I was going to let myself cool off so that I didn’t damper any spirits as soon as I walked into the room.

I take a deep breath and curl my lips into a smile as I walk into the building where our party is being held.

“I expect that you’re not going to be rude when Jarred and his family get here.” Mom states as we walk down the empty corridor.

“And I expect that you’re going to start respecting the fact that I have a boyfriend and am not interested in Jarred,” I ask smiling at her knowingly. “Wait, this is one of those times that we both say things that we want but know are not going to happen isn’t it?” I give her one last glance before walking towards my cousins.

“Hey Y/n!” They greet, taking turns to hug me.

“Hey guys! It’s good to see you.” I smile, sliding into the table with them.

“You really went all out, this doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Jarred and his family are coming tonight does it?” My cousin Maddison (sorry if your name is Maddison, I’m just picking names) asks wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“I didn’t even know he was coming until about thirty minutes ago,” I reply rolling my eyes as she giggles.

“Girl, if my parents were going out of their way to try to hook me up with him I’d be all over it. You’re lucky in my opinion.” She laughs setting her chin in her hand.

“Well, you can have him. Actually, I’d love if you swooped in on him honestly. It would get my mom off of my case.” I admit making her roll her eyes in amusement.

“Talking about me again are we?” Jarred asks slipping into the chair across from me smiling smugly.

“Hey,” I state, flashing a fake smile at him. “Well it’s always a pleasure to see you, but I’m going to go get some punch.” I push myself out of my seat slowly and head towards the table with refreshments.

“Hey y/n, how’ve you been?” My uncle greets as the other adults at the table turn their attention towards me.

“Really good, thanks.” I smile, grabbing an empty glass off of the table.

“How’s that boyfriend of yours doing?” My aunt questions, sipping her wine.

“Ethan? He’s doing great thanks fo-”

“Oh, you’re still with him? I thought you’d came to your senses and dumped him.” She says bluntly making me look at her in surprise.

“Nope, I’m still with him and am very happy.” I smile, biting my tongue.

“Really? I mean, I’m sure he’s good looking but I think Jarred is more your type.” She presses. I pour punch into my glass and sigh quietly, knowing that she isn’t going to drop the subject.

“I actually couldn’t have said it better myself.” Jarred cuts in slinging his arm over my shoulder.

“Oh really? That’s funny because I actually couldn’t disagree more.” I state with a simple smile on my face. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” I trail off, walking away from them. I stalk towards the bathroom silently, trying not to feel guilty about what I’d said. I’m just so tired of everyone making my relationship sound so small and easy to replace. The majority of my family members have been rooting against my relationship with Ethan since it started; I just wish they’d be more supportive towards the things that make me happy.

I lock the bathroom door and slip my phone out of my clutch, pressing on Ethan’s contact.

“Hello.” He answers cheerfully making my lips curl into a smile.

“I need you to pick me up.” I whisper quietly as if someone was going to hear me.

“What, why? Are you okay?” He asks, the tone of his voice changing immediately.

“I’m fine, I just need to get out of here. I promise I’ll explain everything later.” I mumble, fiddling with my dress.

“Okay, text me the address and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He responds, and I let out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding in.

“Okay.” I breathe closing my eyes. “Ethan?”


“I love you.” I stare quietly and I hear him laugh softly.

“I love you too baby, I’ll see you soon.” He smiles before the line cuts off. I smile to myself and text him the address before swinging the door open.

I looked around before my eyes locked on Maddison, and I hurried towards her.

“Hey, you’re not going to be too mad at me if I ditch are you?” I question, whispering so that no one heard me.

“I think I’ll be okay, we’ll get together soon to make up for all of the lost time?”

“Of course, I promise I’ll make it up to you!” I exclaim, hugging her tightly when my phone buzzes in my hand. I look down at it to find a text from Ethan.

From: Eth💞

I’m waiting outside

“Ethan’s here, I’ll see you soon.” I giggle as she rolls her eyes in amusement watching me sneak away yet again.
I carefully look around, double checking that no one had followed me before I quietly push open the door and hurry outside. I stop briefly and slip off my heels so that I could make a faster getaway. I jog down the sidewalk and smile when I see Ethan leaning against his parked car waiting for me. He looks towards me when he hears the soft sound of my bare feet hitting the pavement, a big smile forming on his lips when he sees me.

“Hey beautiful.” He greets, pulling me in for a gentle kiss. “You look…wow.” He breathes stepping away from me and grabbing one of my hands as I slowly spun around to give him the full view.

“Thanks,” I blush tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“So beautiful.” He whispered hugging my waist and pressing a light kiss against the crown of my head.

“Well as much as I’d like to stay in this moment, let’s go before my mom realizes that I’m gone.” I state making him bid in agreement and pull away.

“Of course, I almost forgot.” He laughs turning around to open the door for me. He lets me in and then quickly jogs to his side, speeding off down the road. “You’ve told me that you guys dress up for these things but I didn’t think you meant that you go all out.”

“Yeah, it’s been kind of a tradition. Don’t worry, you’re lending me clothes when we get to your apartment. So you don’t have to feel underdressed or anything.” I joke patting his thigh lightly.

“Of course, but we’re getting pictures first.” He laughs sliding his hand into mine.

“Okay.” I giggle rolling my eyes at him.

“What? I like to show you off a little.” He explains, turning into his parking spot at the apartment building.

“Alright, those are all cute. Can I please change now?” I ask leaning my head against his back, sliding my arms around his waist lazily.

“Of course, you can go pick out what you want to wear. You know where everything is.” He responds politely watching me walk off towards his room.

“So what happened tonight?” Ethan asks after we curl up under his blankets, the light from the window illuminating the room softly.

“My family,” I sigh playing with his hand as Ethan scoots closer behind me.

“What about them?”

“They’re just so unsupportive. I feel like they’re against everything that makes me happy.” I mumble, his hand combing through my hair comfortingly.

“Would I happen to be one of those things?” He asks stopping his movements.

“Yeah.” I whisper, tangling our fingers together and pulling our hands into my chest. “I feel like everyone is against our relationship.”

Ethan stays quiet for a few minutes and a part of me is nervous about what he has to say.

“I guess we’ll just have to prove everyone wrong. I mean, it’s our relationship, not theirs. Who are they to decide whether we should or shouldn’t be together?” He finally answers, making me sigh in relief.

“Us against the world.” I murmur into the darkness, making me smile to myself.

“Us against the world.” He repeats in agreement, sinking into the bed behind me before we drift asleep together.

Papercraft wedding gift for my cousin and her new husband! They were married last weekend. Congratulations! <3


I’ve always been more tolerant of cold than people around me and never really understood it. It is just not cold to me until the water gets stiff and stops pouring well. I knew some of the family came out of Finland around 1900. My cousin did the ancestory dna thing. We are Sami, here is our flag. Even out of place I’m an indigenous person. Not that I think anyone isn’t indigenous it feels a little funny, the knowing where from none the less.

BTS as things my baby cousins did
  • Namjoon: *uses really big words like dubious and revolting* *is nine years old*
  • Jin: *stares at me critically* *forces a princess crown on my head* Here. Let me make you pretty. Let me teach you.
  • Yoongi: *gets a toy makeup set as a gift* *stares blankly at it for 30 seconds* I don't have time for this. *walks away*
  • Hoseok: *dancing the same song on Just Dance for three hours straight* Why are you bored? We're dancing! *twirls*
  • Jimin: *tackles my granny in a hug every time she sees her, which is almost every day* Hi. Did you know I love you?
  • Taehyung: *playing Barbies by herself and singing in weird voices and off key while paying no attention to anyone else*
  • Jungkook: *Loses a contest in school for who could read the most books* WHY DIDN'T I GET THE PRIZE? *we ask if she read more books, and she says no. we explain that that's a fair loss* *clenches her tiny fist* I do not like it.

i was tagged by @batistabombingdatass a looong time ago

1:Where is your cell phone? infront of me lol

2:Your hair? updo style since im lazy to properly fix it

3:Your mum? laying on the couch 

4:Your other half?  in the pantry where my lovely potato belongs

5:Favorite food? uh i guess anything that doesnt have eggs,milk or beef…

6:Your dream last night?  to be honest i dont even remember

7:Favorite drink? horchatas and bubble tea

8:Fear? someone from my school finding my tumblr LOL

9:Home away from home? uh i dont know tbh..But ive been thinking about new york for awhile now

10:Where were u last night? getting icecream and smoothies 

11:Where you grew up? iN THE WOMB (nah i grew up around loud people and nice cousins)

12:Last thing you did? uh organizing my shit together

13:What are u wearing right now? a yellow tee (since its fucking hottt) and blue capris with socks

14:Your TV? it has yet to be bought…

15:Your pets? i got a loaf of a yellow lab, (I FUCKJING FORGOT THE BREED) and two other dogs (3 in total aheh)

16:Friends? oOKOK I HAVE LIKE MAYBEEE 6 IN TOTAL WHOM I RLLY TRUST?? yeeee i love ‘em all 

17:Your life? its uh good i guess 


@trash-lord-the-second   @zap-trap   @tomato-fairy   @sakamoto-the-cat @raikov-tm  @nobodiespoppet   @spacemonkeymafia42   @skazuhira-miller

i have another uh thiingy to post but i gtg now!!!! bye guys mwah mwah

Braids & Ponytails [Chase’s 12 Days of Christmas -Day 1]

Prompt: @eilowyn1: Something about Kara wanting to play with Sara’s hair? Something sisterly she did with Alex, now all loaded because of bi-curiousity?

“It feels so good to finally get a shower in,” Sara said as she stepped out of the steamy shower stall, her wet hair still dripping down her back as a towel hung loosely around her body.

Kara stood in front of the old locker room mirror brushing out the long, golden strands of her hair after having spent the last ten minutes blow drying it. She could see Sara’s reflection as the other woman stood behind her, shaking the droplets of water out of her own blonde tresses. For the past several days, she’d kept an eye on the former assassin, watching her fight with a practiced ease that she had yet to master.

“Cute ‘do, blondie,” Sara said as Kara put her hair up in a low ponytail then wrapped a thick strand around the base to conceal the band. Her eyes appraised Kara from head to toe in her little black dress. “Although you look a bit like a school marm in that get-up.”

A bright pink blush spread out over Kara’s cheeks. She knew about Sara’s preferences. Barry had told her stories about how Sara had been in a relationship with not only Oliver, but an assassin name Nyssa. At first, Kara thought he was joking, but when she overheard Sara and Mick’s remark about the president looking hot, that’s when she realized it really was true. Standing in that somewhat cramped locker room bathroom magnified Sara’s gaze.

Thoughts of Alex and her recent revelations hit Kara suddenly. While she had never personally been hit on by a woman, feeling Sara’s eyes on her now made her somewhat curious. “Well, I guess you can say that’s just my style,” Kara replied, straightening out the white cuffs and collar of her dress before turning around to face Sara.

For a moment, Sara stood there appraising her again, this time with a smirk on her face. “I think it’s cute,” she said, brushing past her in order to stand in front of the mirror. “Not a bad choice for an after party.”

“What are you wearing?” Kara inquired.

“I’m more of the simple type,” Sara answered. “Jeans, t-shirt, and my favorite jacket.” She began combing through her wet hair, water dripping off each strand and pooling on the floor near her bare feet. “Besides, I’m headed back to the Waverider after all this is over, so being comfortable during a time jump is important.” Tugging on some of the tangled knots, she added, “I just wish I knew what to do with my hair.”

Kara didn’t know what possessed her to reply, but the words just seemed to slip out of her mouth. “I think you’d look really pretty with braids,” she blurted.

Sara turned around. Her sharp blue eyes stared at Kara, narrowing slightly as she pondered her words. “Really?” Sara asked, her hands falling to her towel-clad hips. “Braids?” Kara could hear the amusement in her voice and felt dejected for a moment until she added, “I haven’t had braids since I was a little girl. Laurel used to braid my hair.” That look of nostalgia mixed with sadness made Kara stand up straight

She knew of Laurel’s fate, that Sara’s sister had died just a few months earlier in a siege by her Earth’s super-villain, Damien Darkh. It broke Kara’s heart even if she didn’t know the other woman. Losing family was something she understood. “I could-I could do them for you,” she found herself offering.

Sara stared at her with just the hint of a smile on her lips. “I’d like that,” she softly replied. “Let me get ready first.” She quickly blow-dried her hair and threw on the outfit she’d mentioned earlier before meeting Kara in front of the mirror once more. “Do your thing, Supergirl,” she said, grabbing one of the stools she found in the back of the locker room and taking a seat.

With the brush, she parted Sara’s hair down the middle, tying one half with a band around her wrist while leaving the other half to flow freely. “My mother used to braid my hair. She would do something different every week and taught me how to do each style. It was one of the last things she did before sending me to Earth to protect my cousin,” Kara said, her fingers creating three strands out of the half of Sara’s hair not in the band.

Sara nodded. “Sounds like she was a wonderful mother,” she replied. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I have a feeling something bad happened to her.”

“You’re not wrong,” Kara answered, her eyes unfocusing a bit as she tried to reign in her feelings. “She… died, along with my entire planet.”

“I’m sorry,” Sara apologized. Her hand reached up to give Kara’s wrist a gentle squeeze. “I lost my sister recently. I know how tough that can be.”

“Barry mentioned something about that to me,” Kara said. She continued working on the elaborate French braid that spanned the side of Sara’s head down to the tips of her hair. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“We’ve both been through some pretty terrible things, haven’t we?” Sara mused, her lips twitching up into a half smile. “Makes being kickass women all the better.” The smirk returned to her face and Kara grinned.

“We are pretty badass,” she agreed. “I mean, you, with that stick thing…”

“It’s called a bo staff,” Sara corrected, the smile remaining on her face. “I learned that while training with the League of Assassins.”

“See!” Kara pointed at Sara’s reflection. “That is totally badass! Being trained by assassins? When I tell Winn, he’s going to freak!”

Sara laughed, “Yeah, well, you’d better be glad he’s on your Earth and not mine, or I might just have to kill him.”

“Seriously?” Kara’s face instantly fell as she stopped working on the second braid.

“Kidding!” Sara sang out, unable to stop smiling. “But you, Supergirl… flying, x-ray vision, super strength, shooting laser beams out of your eyes… Now that’s badass. And pretty hot.” Those sharp blue eyes scanned Kara through the mirror this time, stopping at her face so their gazes met.

“I, um… Are you… Uh… Are you… hitting on me?” Kara’s cheeks burned bright red as he eyes dropped to the white high heels Felicity had given her.

“Maybe,” Sara teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “Never been hit on by a girl before?”

“No!” Kara confessed. “It’s so… weird. Although it really makes me understand Alex even more now.”

“Who’s Alex?”

“My sister. My lesbian sister. In all honesty, you might actually like her, but I’m pretty sure she’s falling for Maggie, so…” Kara stopped mid-ramble when she realized what she’d said. Pursing her lips, she stopped talking.

Sara eyed her for a long time through the mirror as Kara’s face turned bright red. She continued braiding the former assassin’s hair, trying not to make eye contact for fear of what she’d see in those intense blue pools. The moment had gone from fun to awkward in less than ten seconds and she felt it was her fault.

“You remind me of Felicity,” Sara jested. “I know you think you made things awkward, but it’s refreshing. Been a while since I’ve been able to just sit back and relax and share stories with someone. Thank you, Kara.”

Her head shot up, eyes meeting Sara’s in the mirror once more as the look of utter bewilderment crossed Kara’s features. “Uh, you're… welcome?” she replied.

Sara huffed a laugh. “Don’t ever change,” she said, standing up from the chair to check out the braids. “Very cute,” Sara added with a nod of approval. “Laurel would be proud.”

Kara blushed. “Thank you.”

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anonymous asked:

(1/2) Hey! I wanted to ask about something that happened to me a while back. I've blocked it out like I can't remember how old I was tbh lol. Maybe around 9. Anyway my brother is 3 years older than me and when we would get into the pool he would always feel up on me and make out with me, and I didn't really know what was going on but I feel like I could have done something about it. So I don't allow myself to feel bad but recently I figured out

(2/2) that he did the same thing to both of my cousins. One of them is 4 years younger than him, and one of them is 5/6 years younger than him. It really put me off especially when I found out about the youngest one. Now It’s brought back to me and I don’t know what to do? Should I feel bad even, like what is this ¿?

Yes you 100% have a right to feel bad if it affects you that way, but you dont have to force yourself to feel bad. Everyone reacts to these situations differently. But he still sounds… gross as hell, and needs to be kept away from children. Far away

Queer [White-passing Person of Color]

I do just want to say that as a white-passing person with a mixed ethnic and racial background these POC profiles have been giving me life. My mom’s side is white and my father’s family is not and my sister and I grew up between two worlds, never knowing anyone else who did.

We were told my father’s racial/ethnic history in dribs and drabs over the years. Like, I knew his mom had moved to San Fransisco from El Salvador with her husband, but it was years later that I learned his dad (my paternal grandpa) was Palestinian, and it was years after that I learned my paternal grandma’s father had been Italian. My mom’s family is white. Like, Irish-background, freckles instead of tans white, descended from early Presidents white.

Folks ask me if I’m Jewish, more so when I had longer hair, but my larger and bold nose shape still prompts questions. “Are you Jewish?” has been used as a pick up line to me, which does add extra joy to explaining that my grandfather’s parents moved to El Salvador from Palestine, so close but no cigar. “What are you?” has also been used to chat me up by folks of all colours, stay classy world!

My sister reads as more Latina, which has been a hassle for her where she lives, because (like me) how white-passing she is varies on season and situation and neither of us ever quite fit. At this time, she and I are pretty much each other’s only family, so most situations described below are from when we were children and young teens.

Frustrating as it’s been, as a queer person I’m glad for the disconnect I experienced with race and ethnicity when I was younger. I’ve never been brown enough or white enough and, as a fluidly gender-fluid person with a straight male partner, I’m never queer enough or straight enough either.

Beauty Standards/issues

When I was born (I’m the first-born), my father’s mom was excited, because I had blue-grey eyes, like a lot of babies do. She was so excited that there would be a blue-eyed baby in her family and my parents had to be like “it’s going to take a lot more white folks to dilute the brown eyes/dark hair genetics, Ma.” At the same time, my father thought I wasn’t his, because I looked too much like a full white baby, which is a pleasant thing to learn later in life. My sister had darker hair and darker skin as a baby and was easily accepted.

As kids, my sister and I were both medium-brown eyes and hair, with her skin tending to be a little darker than my pasty ivory, because I was a hardcore indoor kid. Our cousins (all of which also had a white parent!), who live in a sunny state, all had dark beige skin that ranged from terracotta to tawny. My sister and I were from a rainy area that didn’t see lots of sun and we had to be slathered in zinc and tended to burn as kids.

From about five or six on, my mom used get my aunt to curl-perm my hair in various ways to try and make it “behave.” Sitting for what felt like ever while my aunt wrapped strands of hair into spiral curlers was a normal thing until I was about ten and got the guts to ask them to stop. As all the perms never seemed to stick or fix my curls, she relented. I was taught to brush my hair and it wasn’t until I was an older teen I realised I could and should use a wide-toothed pick if I didn’t want constant breakage and a wedge-shaped cloud of frizz. In college I learned to stop washing my hair every day.

In the end, my sister ended up with wavy, naturally auburn hair that is easy to straighten and style and light fawn skin with yellow undertones. I’ve got naturally black hair that’s a messy mix of 3a/b curls and is surprisingly horrible to straighten unless I go pay for a blowout. But,I don’t need a hair tie if I braid it, which I love. I’ve yet to find a foundation that matches my beige skin that has, I swear to gawd, yellow-greenish undertones (most especially if I put my tanned arm next to my partner’s, who has a defined red tone to his skin). Both my sister and I freckle and tan when exposed to sun and no longer burn easily.


In the winter, I wear a scarf in a way that covers most of my hair and neck, which can definitely change how others move around me. Though not that significantly, as there are a lot of folks in the area I live who cover their heads and hair in distinctive cultural and religious ways.


While our cousins on our father’s side were all taught at least working Spanish growing up, my sister and I were never taught more than a few words. Which meant family could and did talk in front of us together in Spanish to exclude us. My sister wasn’t young enough to notice, but I did. Our family never went back to El Salvador on vacation, but cousins and aunties did, so there were constantly pieces of a world we knew we were related to but not let in on around us.

We were raised in a predominantly poor white area by a mother who told my sister and I it was fine if we wore dress-up veils and danced to “Ahab the Arab” because we were Arab. My father didn’t really care.

Though my sister and I didn’t look a whole lot like the kids we went to school with, we looked enough like them it didn’t matter. My mom taught us to mark “Hispanic” on school forms, in hope it’d give us more benefits, or something? I don’t know why. I mark “Other” now, if I do.

My partner’s family is from cowboy country and we drive out there every other year or so. Trips across these rural areas are interesting, because he has very long hair and I’m clearly some sort of mixed race and my gender presentation isn’t always 100% clear. We’re regularly surprised by the reactions or lack of that we encounter in the small towns we visit and pass through. We’ve also encountered areas that have gotten better about distrusting folks who you can’t label right away.


I grew up eating a lot of beans, rice and tortillas. But everyone I know did, to some extent. It might be a West Coast thing? My father’s mom would make epic amounts of tamales and load us up when we visited. My mom’s side made pies a lot. They made a lot of the stuff you see in 1950s’ and 60s’ Betty Crocker cookbooks, because that’s what the home-ec classes they took taught.

Both my parents spoke pretty decent or fluid Spanish. I don’t know why they didn’t bother to teach us. Were we supposed to ask? We were children.

I took Spanish language classes in high school and into college, but it super messed up my English spelling, for some reason, so I stopped. Now I can get the gist if I read Spanish, but that’s it.


My father and his siblings and their kids all went to Catholic schools and did the full shebang of all the ceremonies involved. My mother’s family is all varying forms of Evangelical and Pentecostal Christian, so I grew up in a church that spoke in tongues pastored by my mother’s father and then later, we attended a conservative Baptist church and I was 11 when I started teaching Sunday School. I was often cast as Mary in the Christmas plays because of my nose shape and hair type.

I was regularly jealous of the cool private schools and dress-up ceremonies my Catholic cousins were a part of. I think the religious difference was one of the things that really did set my sister and I apart from our cousins as kids.

Now I’m just an existentialist and I think my sister is some sort of Christian.


Used to be terrible, because I craved a label or explanation or group as a kid. I’m pretty okay with me now, though. It only took me to my late twenties and early thirties!

Identity issues

White-passing, raised the way we were, my sister and I often felt adrift from others. Where did we fit? Nowhere. Our mother wasn’t that into me, because I didn’t fit her idea of femininity and my father’s family wasn’t that into my sister and I because we weren’t brown enough.

Eventually I just gave up trying to find a label. I’m a hella mix of cultures and experiences, like a whole lot of folks out there. How I present, gender- and race-wise, fluctuates.

There are white folks I know who I know don’t think I’m brown enough to have opinions on race things, or who discount my experiences. And there are queer folks I know who do the same thing. But here’s a thing I know: when I was four I saw my father’s dad on his deathbed. He was deep golden terracotta and spoke a language I bet he’d wished somebody had taught me. I spent my life meeting cousins and cousins-of-cousins who’d stumble over the Irish name I was given and praise my pale skin. My hair was always a “mess”, never curly in the right way and my brows were too thick and I didn’t know my nose was big until my mother told me.

Things you’d like to see less of

Siblings that look alike. Most mixed kids I know don’t look like their siblings, they move like them. You see still pictures and you’re like “that is not related to you,” but you watch them talk together and you see their relation in their hand movements and head movements and shared slang.

Things you’d like to see more of

Ambiguous mixed race! Curly hair that is a Klein bottle of nonsense and frizzes and halos and is a beautiful mess. People who don’t belong. Arab-looking people who are just people. Doctor Bashir of Deep Space Nine was my first big crush. Seeing a face that didn’t necessarily look like the faces I saw in my family, but had familiar signifiers was immensely important to me.

Read more POC Profiles here.

Can we please end this bullshit of attacking a person for not knowing every single fact of everything ever, like you do because you’re some kind of all-knowing God.