How Lara Changed My Life

“Ok, well you know how the dance is coming up? I was…...ummm wondering if you would like to go with me?”

In “The Story of My Body”, Judith Ortiz Cofer speaks about her experiences growing up as a Puerto Rican in the United States and illustrates how differently she was perceived in those two cultures. She focuses on parts of her identity such as skin, color, size, and looks, and how they served to affect her life and categorize her in that society.

Slowly getting out of bed with no emotion. Rubbed my tiredness eyes after realizing today was the first day in a new school. I heard things about Mary Beck Elementary that were both good and bad. I put on the outfit i layed out the night before on the right side of my antique rocking chair. A dark red t-shirt with a little coral heart on the left side near my chest with the words Por Eterno written in black ink on the inside of the heart. Dark wash relaxed cut jeans and black and white converse that seem as if i walked through a desert with them. Skipped breakfast and waited for bus 107 and as soon as i knew it i was on my way to Mary Beck Elementary.

The narrative written by Judith Ortiz Cofer discusses some of the many experiences she has encountered throughout her life dealing with stereotypes and common misconceptions of Latin American women. To further engage her audience in the story, she provides detailed past experiences that have stood out to her the most. In order for the readers to fully understand those past encounters, some of which are cultural and common among Latinos, Cofer explains them in careful detail. For example, Cofer explains the concept of piropos which are poems composed on the spot by men to women as a form of admiration. This helps her introduce the audience to her own experiences with piropos and how she has dealt with them throughout her life. One of the

“Ok, I know a great place to go.” She said cheerfully unlike the tone she had earlier. They walked for awhile until they reached a black house with a big window.

“Yeah, but you need to make sure that you’re ready no matter what,” Kara replied.

“So I guess I’ll pick you up around noon, so that we can go on more of an adventure tomorrow.” Archie suggested.

Johanna Alatorre is a first generation Chicana student and has been an active member in the Latino Union organization since 2014. As she opened the door to her bedroom and welcomed me inside, she looked nothing like I expected. She did not have strong Mexican features as I had imagined. In the contrary, Alatorre had a very light skin complexion, short wavy brunette hair, and was about four foot eleven. Her large, brown, 80’s vintage eyeglasses stood out, as well as her heartwarming smile. I stood there nervously but a sense of complete comfort arose when I noticed she was wearing a gold rosary necklace and her Mexican huaraches. In that instance I knew we had a lot in common.

Anna Lisa Raya is both Mexican and Puerto Rican.Her father is a second ganeration Mexican-American She lives in El Soreno, a Mexican neighborhood,in Los Angeles. When she first attended college in New York she discovered that she was defined as a Latina.Upon arriving in New York as a first year student , she not only experienced culture, but for the first time she had to define herself according to the broad term “latina”.she felt like she was a minority mainly because Latinos always encounter discrimination. But as a young girl she was never the perfect image of a Latina. For example, she was always mistaken for Asian or white. Mainly because of her appearance was very different. Since she wasn’t raised in Mexico she didn’t learn how to

“Okay. If you get there before I do call me back. I'll do the same thing.”

By the time the reader has finished reading this essay the author hopes she has established a universal truth which will push her audience to look past not only her own but the skin color, accent, or clothes, but that of any Latin American women. Once this essay has been read, the author calls her readers to look past passes he physical features and to shoo away any misconstrued ideas of her or any other Latinas from stereotypes or unpopular beliefs and to replace them with relevant realities and opinions which were fairly

I peer around my closet - a collection of seemingly materialistic things. Although cotton and polyester surround me, I see much more than that - I see cotton and polyester infused with self-expression, sewn with memories and printed with reminders of who I am. As a result, this daily trip requiring me to walk .003 miles (roughly 18 feet) turns into a daily reminder of the person I've grown to become. As baggy blue jeans and a

“Oh yeah I do remember hearing about that. So um would you like me to pick you up then? Say six o’clock still?”

Today I woke up and totally felt like dressing down, a morning shower and a venti americano weren't enough to motivate me this morning.  So, I went out trying to pull off a casual look!  The quilted sweater I'm wearing is Balmain. The comfy athletic shorts am wearing are Nike, I wore a gray Calvin Klein shirt, with a limited edition colored Patagonia, and paired this outfit with my favorite pair of reflective ray-ban aviators.  The outfit really wasn't dressed for the occasion of bucktown, but I tried my best to create an ahtletic comfortable yet fashionable look. (probably something that won't be happening again).

Saturday and Sunday went by fast. Vowing that God had cut off at least twelve hours off my weekend, Monday morning arrived. I had to be at the coliseum at nine a.m. I woke up at eight thirty on the dot. With no essential worries and not a care in the world what I looked like, I merely jumped out of bed and put my graduation dress, cap, and gown on. In six minutes flat I was ready to go. I made it out my room and past the mirror wall right before I was about to leave. Looking at myself I knew I looked unacceptable, but my mind could not lead me to care. Right before I could make it out the door my mom vented her words of refutation. “Where do you think you are going? You did not bother to brush your hair, wash your face nor take a shower.” Thinking quickly, I managed to use time as my excuse and scampered out the door to avoid any more questions.