인스타그램 스토리 뷰어

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

My identity has been questioned since forever. I grew up constantly being asked, “What are you?” and I used to call myself “Mexican,” because that is what my dad was taught to call himself. But we didn’t really speak Spanish at home and none of us were born south of where the border is now. Our ancestors were around before these borders existed. And before Spanish, there was/is Nahuatl and Otomí and Maya and many other languages and identities. To be honest, I didn’t even know to think of my dad, his parents, or my maternal grandfather as “people of color” until I moved to Colorado. As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s actually quite interesting to me. I didn’t have such language to separate them from others growing up. Now that identity politics are everything, I’ve learned a lot. But whether or not I “look the part” is not my problem, and it isn’t anyone’s place to decide. This is my family. This is me. I am a descendent of both Indigenous ancestors and Spanish ones. Plus, my mom’s mom is 100% Irish. I can’t change history or who my grandparents and parents chose to love. I am light skinned because of all of this. Does that suddenly mean I don’t belong to them and their stories? Their languages? I belong to all of it. The colonized and the colonizer. Sure, debate who I am and where I belong, because that is the epitome of my existence and it is exactly what colonization wants. But my dad? His mom? My maternal grandfather? Nope. You cannot deny they’re brown, and I will not let anyone deny their belonging to Turtle Island. Bad Bunny performing yesterday stirred up a lot of emotions in me. I think about my family’s assimilations and removal from culture and language. And yet here we are, celebrating cultures that were supposed to be eliminated and forgotten. I love my roots. I love that my ancestry came from both the southwest and farther south. I love that I continue to wander down the path of reconnection. Thank you, @badbunnypr for lifting us all up, all “Americans,” from the north to the far far south, we are still here. F&ck 🧊 and f@ck the haters of complex identities and history.

#soyquesoy #delatierra #badbunny #mixedrace #identitypolitics

2025 was all about letting go. I began the year with a run streak to savor the lead up to my double mastectomy, Feb 26th. I even set a short FKT the day before surgery. After, it was all about recovery. Walking. Hiking. Strength and mobility PT. Some running. But, I had to surprisingly deal with IT band issues, which threw me into more PT. Then, I had to move up my second surgery, a bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy, due to insurance. I withdrew from the few races I’d signed up for in the Fall. More recovery time. But I got to go backpacking and enjoy the slowness of just moving my body. I’m still strength training more than running right now, but I’m so excited for the return to the sport I love. Despite having 4 less organs, may 2026 be the ultimate comeback with this new version of myself. Thanks for all the love and support along the way. Fingers crossed for some more badassery, community, and falling in love with the land over and over again. 🫶🏽✌🏽

#delatierra #brcastrong #brcaprevivor #brca1 #postsurgeryrecovery #toughyear #goodbye2025 #2025 #athletelife

OFRENDA // a short documentary

as writer and runner sara aranda pushes her body across 134 unforgiving miles from timbisha (death valley) to tumanguya (mt. whitney), she confronts carrying the brca1 genetic mutation, turning her record attempt into a poetic offering to/of body and earth.

produced by // @41westproductions

featuring // @oyesaranda

written by // @oyesaranda
directed by // @the.benevolent.metalhead

executive producer // @41westproductions

cinematographer // @tboogs
editor // @the.benevolent.metalhead

original score // @david_chapdelaine

line producer // @ariellesheres

b camera // @jamesbarkman

1st ac 1st unit // @ethan.scoma
1st ac 2nd unit // @corppuz

gaffer // glenn porter
key grip // skip haswell
camera car // @baxter_cameraworks

colorist // @connorjbailey
sound design/mix // @coltonjackson_12

vocalist // veronica desoyza

production assistants // greg belgum, michael cain, @jonathon_herzog, lynn sanson

Nada ni nadie es perfecto; ciertamente mi lengua, mi cuerpo, mis deseos e intenciones, no lo son. Pero, ¿dale no más, no? Ya voy. Ya pruebo. :)

My tutor recently asked me to write poems in Spanish, scroll to read one (translation is in my Insta story today). I wanted to play with how lengua means both language and tongue, but to also write about a deep insecurity of mine. It’s a simple poem, perhaps solely cathartic. But at least it’s mine.

#delatierra #poemas #poesía #learningwhatmyfamilylost

Nada ni nadie es perfecto; ciertamente mi lengua, mi cuerpo, mis deseos e intenciones, no lo son. Pero, ¿dale no más, no? Ya voy. Ya pruebo. :)

My tutor recently asked me to write poems in Spanish, scroll to read one (translation is in my Insta story today). I wanted to play with how lengua means both language and tongue, but to also write about a deep insecurity of mine. It’s a simple poem, perhaps solely cathartic. But at least it’s mine.

#delatierra #poemas #poesía #learningwhatmyfamilylost

Nada ni nadie es perfecto; ciertamente mi lengua, mi cuerpo, mis deseos e intenciones, no lo son. Pero, ¿dale no más, no? Ya voy. Ya pruebo. :)

My tutor recently asked me to write poems in Spanish, scroll to read one (translation is in my Insta story today). I wanted to play with how lengua means both language and tongue, but to also write about a deep insecurity of mine. It’s a simple poem, perhaps solely cathartic. But at least it’s mine.

#delatierra #poemas #poesía #learningwhatmyfamilylost

Nada ni nadie es perfecto; ciertamente mi lengua, mi cuerpo, mis deseos e intenciones, no lo son. Pero, ¿dale no más, no? Ya voy. Ya pruebo. :)

My tutor recently asked me to write poems in Spanish, scroll to read one (translation is in my Insta story today). I wanted to play with how lengua means both language and tongue, but to also write about a deep insecurity of mine. It’s a simple poem, perhaps solely cathartic. But at least it’s mine.

#delatierra #poemas #poesía #learningwhatmyfamilylost

Humo was the most psyched on the @guenergylabs chews packaging haha. Shopping for all the variety of nutrition/fueling products is what makes @thefeed unique in my opinion. Too bad for Humo they don’t sell cat treats. Discount code for The Feed in my bio LinkTree :)

#thefeedapril #cats_of_instagram #cute #runningfuel

Returning the girl to the alpine. 2026 summer, I can’t wait. Still sponsorless but maybe I’m meant to do things my own way. Vamos.

#brcaprevivor #brcastrong #postsurgerylife #delatierra #alpinegirls

Come check out these upcoming events. And if you feel like you’re too slow for run club, don’t! Join the early group or look for my name as sweeper and we can hang (sweepers start with main group but are purposefully there to chill) 🤗

Lots of things happening with La Plata Coalition. Dan King is speaking but I will also be there.

And I am presenting on behalf of @runners4publiclands on May 6th.

I don’t really understand the algorithm but whatever. Updates from me: reacquainting myself with old writing of mine, slowly becoming whatever athlete I guess I’m supposed to be post surgeries, a photo of my mother in her 20s, my PE shirt from Jr. High, fluffiness and raininess and entering literary contests and starting my coaching business (thanks to the two trial clients I have thus far) and I guess there’s a thing called millennial cringe and I’m (maybe) here for it.

#delatierra #justkeepswimming #whatisreal #socialmediaiswhack #millenial

I don’t really understand the algorithm but whatever. Updates from me: reacquainting myself with old writing of mine, slowly becoming whatever athlete I guess I’m supposed to be post surgeries, a photo of my mother in her 20s, my PE shirt from Jr. High, fluffiness and raininess and entering literary contests and starting my coaching business (thanks to the two trial clients I have thus far) and I guess there’s a thing called millennial cringe and I’m (maybe) here for it.

#delatierra #justkeepswimming #whatisreal #socialmediaiswhack #millenial

I don’t really understand the algorithm but whatever. Updates from me: reacquainting myself with old writing of mine, slowly becoming whatever athlete I guess I’m supposed to be post surgeries, a photo of my mother in her 20s, my PE shirt from Jr. High, fluffiness and raininess and entering literary contests and starting my coaching business (thanks to the two trial clients I have thus far) and I guess there’s a thing called millennial cringe and I’m (maybe) here for it.

#delatierra #justkeepswimming #whatisreal #socialmediaiswhack #millenial

I don’t really understand the algorithm but whatever. Updates from me: reacquainting myself with old writing of mine, slowly becoming whatever athlete I guess I’m supposed to be post surgeries, a photo of my mother in her 20s, my PE shirt from Jr. High, fluffiness and raininess and entering literary contests and starting my coaching business (thanks to the two trial clients I have thus far) and I guess there’s a thing called millennial cringe and I’m (maybe) here for it.

#delatierra #justkeepswimming #whatisreal #socialmediaiswhack #millenial

I don’t really understand the algorithm but whatever. Updates from me: reacquainting myself with old writing of mine, slowly becoming whatever athlete I guess I’m supposed to be post surgeries, a photo of my mother in her 20s, my PE shirt from Jr. High, fluffiness and raininess and entering literary contests and starting my coaching business (thanks to the two trial clients I have thus far) and I guess there’s a thing called millennial cringe and I’m (maybe) here for it.

#delatierra #justkeepswimming #whatisreal #socialmediaiswhack #millenial

I don’t really understand the algorithm but whatever. Updates from me: reacquainting myself with old writing of mine, slowly becoming whatever athlete I guess I’m supposed to be post surgeries, a photo of my mother in her 20s, my PE shirt from Jr. High, fluffiness and raininess and entering literary contests and starting my coaching business (thanks to the two trial clients I have thus far) and I guess there’s a thing called millennial cringe and I’m (maybe) here for it.

#delatierra #justkeepswimming #whatisreal #socialmediaiswhack #millenial

I don’t really understand the algorithm but whatever. Updates from me: reacquainting myself with old writing of mine, slowly becoming whatever athlete I guess I’m supposed to be post surgeries, a photo of my mother in her 20s, my PE shirt from Jr. High, fluffiness and raininess and entering literary contests and starting my coaching business (thanks to the two trial clients I have thus far) and I guess there’s a thing called millennial cringe and I’m (maybe) here for it.

#delatierra #justkeepswimming #whatisreal #socialmediaiswhack #millenial

I don’t really understand the algorithm but whatever. Updates from me: reacquainting myself with old writing of mine, slowly becoming whatever athlete I guess I’m supposed to be post surgeries, a photo of my mother in her 20s, my PE shirt from Jr. High, fluffiness and raininess and entering literary contests and starting my coaching business (thanks to the two trial clients I have thus far) and I guess there’s a thing called millennial cringe and I’m (maybe) here for it.

#delatierra #justkeepswimming #whatisreal #socialmediaiswhack #millenial

Medal Monday: I opened up a box I’ve been meaning to go through for several years 😅. It’s so cool to look back and metaphorically embrace my younger selves. She was a perfectionist but also someone so willing to try very hard and give anything her all. From Jr High “track meets” to music in high school to triathlons and 5Ks in college to graduating magna cum laude to my first trail races, my eagerness to prove myself was one of the only things I felt I could truly control in my life, especially given that all of this coincided with my mom’s divorce, cancer, and eventual death. The fire to always do well still exists in me and sometimes it still makes me too self-critical, but it has also given me so much joy and pride. I sure knew how to kick butt! The woman I am today owes so much to this driven girl. When I become self-conscious, I remember her. She showed up. She won things thought impossible. She struggled with immense grief, but knew such successes would one day mean something more. Nina Williams, during her panel at No Man’s Land Film Festival, talked about giving her younger self more credit. Younger Sara, you were always such a force of nature. Thanks for never giving up. 🤗

#delatierra #brcastrong #celebrateyourwins #lookingbackmovingforward #medalmonday🏅

la vida últimamente / trails, kitty paws, old photo of my parents, Substack poetry / bienvenida, primavera

#delatierra #collage #springhassprung #athletelife #creativelife

la vida últimamente / trails, kitty paws, old photo of my parents, Substack poetry / bienvenida, primavera

#delatierra #collage #springhassprung #athletelife #creativelife

la vida últimamente / trails, kitty paws, old photo of my parents, Substack poetry / bienvenida, primavera

#delatierra #collage #springhassprung #athletelife #creativelife

Visited Purgatory Flats for the first time. Water everywhere! Even a little ice at the start. Went all the way to the bridge and were surprised by all the casual people with shopping bags and looking fresh. Then we heard the train haha so I guess these riders were taking a break. Pretty neat. :) So so beautiful out. Counted 6 piles of kitty scat 👀😬…

#delatierra #riodelasanimasperdidas #purgatoryflats #weminuchewilderness

Last fall, RPL ambassadors @oyesaranda and @run.wander.ride traveled to Grants, NM, to cheer on ultrarunners in the @mttaylor50k as they ascended through the clouds to the summit of Tsoodził (Mt Taylor), the Diné (Navajo) southern sacred peak

A uranium boom & bust town, Grants is once again at risk of repeating its toxic past, as talk of a new uranium mine spreads across Northwest New Mexico. Check out our blog to learn more about Grants and its connection to both outdoor recreation and mining & extraction, and what you can do to ensure that our public lands remain public — so that races such as the Mt Taylor 50k can continue to thrive on intact landscapes rather than among quarries, mill tailings, logged forests, or oil wells. Link in bio.

The running community is one of the largest outdoor recreation groups in the country, and our collective voice has the power to make positive change for the places we choose to move through.
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#runnersforpubliclands #grants #newmexico #outdoorrecreation #outdooreconomy #publiclands #trailrunning #ultrarunning #50k #roadlessrule