Looking for Home

I’m the daughter of Central American immigrants, who fled their homes in order to live another day. I’ve wrapped myself in those identities letting them become my motivation in choosing my life direction. It didn’t take long to realize I had to navigate a whole new world without my family.

I grew up near Echo Park before the hipsters infiltrated our communities, watching my neighborhood slowly change into something unrecognizable made me feel powerless. Families were pushed out by people who didn’t understand our stories, it fueled me with a passion to create change. I wanted our stories and voices to be heard, but I’ve always felt my responsibility was to my family as the eldest.

From an early age, I dedicated myself to this idea of becoming a lawyer, for the sole purpose of making money. The idea continued to look unfulfilling as I learned more about the realities of history. When I declared my major as journalism at Cal-State Northridge, I saw the impact of the media on our views, it become clear that in writing and giving a voice to my community could I help provide a different narrative.

Although I was born here in Los Angles, my time growing up was split between here and Central America. Summers and winter breaks were spent in EL Salvador and Guatemala. I’ve had the opportunity to travel and explore all six beautiful Central American countries.

Semuc Champey, Guatemala

This provided me with a sense of feeling split between two worlds, not fitting into either one. Watching injustices in El Salvador, filled me with motivation to find a way to speak up on issues and stories in my families’ countries, but I was considered an outsider, “it wasn’t my place.” When I read the history of this country, I felt no kinship either. I felt foreign to the places I was supposed to call home.

I’ve realized that my passion best works to provide a space for Central Americans' diaspora, looking for a new place to call home. I found mine on 6th and Bonnie Brea as well as Vermont and 12th, places where the Central American diaspora came together in this newfound home where the main language is Spanglish, the streets are filled with aromas of pupusas and hamburgers and the radio’s music bounced from Los Hermanos Flores to Bad Bunny.

As I continue to find my path as a writer, journalist & publicity, my hope is to find a way to provide a voice for my community besides the white Mexican narrative, that will help other people see the community I love so much beyond its stereotypes.

Lago Atitlan, Guatemala



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