It’s no secret that being a Hispanic person in America right now feels like carrying generations of anxiety in your chest — the kind that makes it hard to breathe, hard to trust and hard to fully feel alive in a nation that could decide to erase you at any second. Across America, ICE raids …
I felt most at home listening to Latin music, and Spanish was the first language I learned to speak. As a kid, I heard it everywhere — in living rooms, quinceañeras and corner cafés in my parents’ native country of Colombia. My mom sang boleros and old romantic ballads as she made breakfast, and my …