I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter

I’m not sure what it means to be proud of myself yet, but I’m trying to learn

Amá has taken away my phone, so I call Connor every day after school from what I believe is the only remaining pay phone in the city.

If I end up being an office lady who wears slacks and changes into white sneakers to walk home from the train, I’ll just jump off a skyscraper.

When Amá sees me come out of my room, she makes the sign of the cross and doesn’t say anything—that’s what she does when she hates what I’m wearing or I say something weird, which is always.

Adrienne Rich books.

Adrienne Rich books.

It’s not that I’m living life for them, exactly, but I have so many choices they’ve never had, and I feel like I can do so much with what I’ve been given. What a waste their journey would be if I just settled for a dull, mediocre life. Maybe one day they’ll realize that.

He’s kidding but not kidding.

“Julia, sometimes in life you don’t get to do what you want to do. Sometimes you have to deal with what’s given to you, shut up, and keep working. That’s it.”

After the bookstore, we walk to the 606. One of the best decisions the city has ever made was to convert an old rail line into an elevated park. The trail spans two and a half miles—from Wicker Park to Humboldt Park—and it has great views of the skyline and neighborhoods below.