Latina Voices » Creative Nonfiction

By Elizabeth Rodriguez – For me, growing up as a Puerto Rican woman in Chicago has been bittersweet. In the typical Chicago Latino neighborhood of Humboldt Park, I was definitely odd for a number of reasons. I was not Latina enough because I wasn’t born in Puerto Rico, my...

Stop separating families

By Mariela Quintuna – It was October 26, 2008 when the news came in that my brother-in-law, Hector, had to go back to Mexico to finish the process of becoming a legal permanent resident in the United States. My sister, Silvia and he had decided that same year that he needed...

My mother never learned English

By Amalia Gonzalez – Growing up I had one important job in my family. My job was to be a translator. Like this one time I was about 13 years old. My parents had to get time off from their jobs to attend one of my school conferences. They would introduce themselves timidly...

My mother’s determination

By Luz Garcia – “Cuando yo tenía tu edad….” That’s how my mom begins her lectures in the morning when I decide to skip morning chores and sleep in. She quickly reminds me of all the things she did when she was my age and how sleeping-in was, if anything, a luxury....

Remembering my tío

By Angelica Jimenez – As I got ready for mass this morning, memories of my tío Mike came rushing to my mind. Tío Mike was one of my mom’s six brothers, and he acted as the head of the familia and breadwinner. He began working at the young age of five as a migrant...

More than a recipe

By Benita Zepeda – It was probably the most confusing, exhilarating, and fascinating moments I had ever experienced in the unfamiliar world of the kitchen. I was never one that could be found spending my time there. Mi madre, mis abuelos, and even mi padre were culinary innovators,...

A good man is hard to find

By Araceli Arroyo – ¡Nena, ven aquí!” my father said in his best Puerto Rican jíbaro accent calling me into the kitchen. He had not ordered me to clean but tested my cooking skills. When my mother and I are in the kitchen, chopping onions usually turns into a shouting match....

Mi familia is the George Lopez show

By Irma Iliana Gutierrez – Here’s the thing. I come from your not so average Mexican-American familia. My grandparents immigrated here in the 1950’s had four kids, worked really hard, bought property, the American Dream. After that, not so much normal. There have been tears,...

Brown faces

By Toi Cross – Is it the way my lips curl that gets you all nervous inside? Maybe it’s the way my vivacious curves sway—making your eyes do a double take when I pass your way? Is it my brown skin that constantly draws you in? Making you want to inquire more about who I am and...

Thinking of Abuela on Mother’s Day

By Lisa Cisneros – I saw my grandmother, Manuela, for the first time in six years recently. She was visiting from Texas. It was a reunion of mixed emotion. I was so happy to see her and I hugged her so tight and kissed her so much, but I was so sad because I wonder if it would...

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