I feel it in my heart. It starts pounding non-stop. I feel it through my tears. Tears of sadness, anger, anguish.
I connect with the stories shared with me by the women around me. My mom, mis abuelitas, my relatives, my friends.
Sometimes I get a sense of not being able to help them. When I listen to their stories I stand, I hug them, and tell them they are not alone. But is that enough?
I also need time to process these emotions. And sometimes I run, for clarity, but sometimes I have their words pounding in the back of my head. I’ve heard journaling and writing works. And so, I start. But in doing so, my eyes cannot keep shut, they start remembering their faces, and water flows.
This piece was inspired by the workshop led by Dian Million as part of the NAIS-SI Fellowship Program by The University of Texas System (Summer, 2022).
