With all the racism (and yes, no matter what label you wish to use, it's still racism) going on around us and all the ways the U.S. is feeling a lot like the the land of the not-so free, I want to share a little bit of perspective. I know the whole issue is a bit taboo with all the nonsense that is coming out of a specific individual, but I wish to get my story out there before I am no longer allowed to - something that I never thought I'd have to fear.

My mom and dad are wise. They understand what it is to be diligent and to know how it feels to reap the hard work they've sowed. My mom constantly surprises me with her knowledge on how life and the world around us works and my dad continually amazes me with the life hacks he's learned first hand. They're intelligent people, yes. Yet neither of them got the chance to receive an education higher than that of a middle schooler. Poverty was not a commercial with a toll free number at the bottom of the screen for my parents, it was real and it was their life. They both grew up in a small village in the south part of Oaxaca. I am not Oaxacan by birth, but I've been raised as one. Needless to say, I consider Oaxaca mine just as much as my parents would. You may have recently heard news about the educational reform that's going on in our once not-very-popular state and about the madness of the government. We are commonly referred to as the "indigenous" region which is very much the lifestyle in my hometown. My parents spent most of their adolescence in that beautiful village but left it to pursue a better life.

My family and I are first-generation Mexican immigrants. In all honesty, it would be my privilege to lay out what that entails to the people who genuinely want to know what the "label" actually carries. I came here at the age of two. I grew up here and am very much "Americanized," though I still keep in touch with my roots. Crossing wasn't as hard as it is now and as "threatening" as some may see it. My father had been working in the States since he was 13 years old because it's what you did if you couldn't go to school. He had been working with a visa so he was allowed to come back annually for field-picking. Later on, as ironic as it may sound now, Permanent Resident cards were given out for a small fee and my dad was given the opportunity to live in the U.S. After a couple of years, he decided to bring us with him to "El Norte", up north. If you've heard crazy stories about people swimming across El Rio Grande and walking in the desert for miles and miles, that was not my case. I drove in---seriously. I was in the back seat sleeping as my dad drove through the border. That same story applies to all my siblings as well. We all came at different times, my mother and I being the first to come, both of my brothers second and my two sisters being last.

I've been living in Washington state since I can remember. I experienced all the milestones in life in the United States except for maybe being born. I consider myself a Washingtonian just as much as the next girl does, even if some might disagree with me because of the color of my skin, hair and eyes. I love this country. It's provided a place for me and my family to call home. It's given me far more opportunities to make something of myself than my parents ever had. Even though it was pretty difficult to be accepted at the beginning, it was getting easier to be seen as just a normal person which is why it too hurts me how it just keeps spinning out of control because some people know "words."

I just hope that people can start thinking for themselves. It will become a dangerous world when everyone hears and pays attention to the voices around them before listening to their own.