Opinion

But as this column has demonstrated, picture books are not the only thing from our childhoods that stick with us; there are so many little things that do as well.

Mexico has been known as a country of suffering and song and has even been romanticized for it. My family’s history is a reflection of the nation from which they stem — our stories are of pain and sacrifice. 

The movies are about personal struggles. Struggles that no one else can seemingly relate to, but that others face. It’s about those facades that we put up, and how others relate to them.

The more students a department teaches, the more unrestricted funds need to be allocated to supporting TAs and lecturers. This, in turn, poses a significant financial burden for those departments actually performing the university’s stated mission. Financially, departments want — and need — to teach less.

I wonder where Black people can live in the United States that allows us to prosper, make change, feel safe and connect with a grounded community and culture. More importantly, can Black people explore a life that is not defined by the oppression that we’ve endured and continue to suffer from?

While budget cuts and deficits are temporary setbacks in the UC system, it is important to note that extinguishing the flame of education is equally catastrophic as it is permanent.

I dream of a bittersweet symbolic and literal end, one that releases me from the silly trivialities of life. I want to be old and nagging, receiving movie theater and bus discounts for the suffering I have endured in my very human experience. 

I fear that there has been too much commentary in this column as of late, so I am going to take this week to just tell a fun summer sex story.

Pointe is probably the greatest illusion I have ever encountered in my entire life. I remember expecting the entire experience to feel as beautiful as it looked. Instead, I was greeted by the fact that my foot looked as flat as a block in pointe shoes and my ability to balance in them was nonexistent.

My parents’ hometowns may be over 1,900 miles away, but here in Gonzales, it doesn’t feel so far. The grief lessens and grows quiet — sometimes, it fades.