Tag Archives: child-abuse

Life With My Mother’s Mental Illness

There were times when I would come home to find my mother sulking around the house without any apparent cause. The first time I noticed it would involve her shouting and saying to me with tears in her eyes,  “That Chinese girl is disrespecting me!”  Giving her the benefit of the doubt, I went to get Pug to come and apologise to her when I would observe how she’d hug the teenager and confess that in reality the girl had not even spoken to her.  On other occasions,  I would come home and find out that my mother had moved us all to a new apartment somewhere in the neighborhood without telling me anything beforehand. Continue reading

A Colonial Legacy

Coming from a legacy of a colonial era gone by when betrayal and self-hatred was part of the way of life for our people, I could safely say that Iwas really suffering in its aftermath. It had begun leaving its imprint on us as individuals and as a community in many sickly ways. Even today we continue to manifest these traits of a disastrous inheritance leaving us as an unsound people. Continue reading

Improving the Race- Secret Crimes

Image thanks to La Alameda.

Year after year, as the day we call El Día de la Raza approaches here among Latin American countries, many authors focus upon themes like racial stigmatization, slavery and social differences as evils that we must fight in the path toward “improving the race.” For this year, however, we want to expose what we believe to be some of the evil “ghosts” that keep haunting us as members of La Raza which our societies are most reluctant to mention, thereby offering a remedy; something we will call secret crimes. Continue reading

Heading for a Different World


Throughout my bus ride I was feeling like someone who had been robbed of a valuable possession, robbed of that personal jewel that no other human being could possess, that which was that most precious item that no one else could keep because it had been found and handed over by “God” himself in some earlier moment of my youthful life, to be revealed in times of more fruitfulness. The thought regarding being fruitful remained with me that night as if I had heard of such things in a Sunday School lesson. Continue reading

Bound for Colon

This is the area of Plaza Cinco de Mayo where I arrived to catch my bus for Colon. Image thanks to LaEstrellaonline.com.pa

That  was the night that my freedom would finally come. It was then that I noticed the expression on my aunts’ faces when they saw that my threats to leave them were for real. After what seemed an eternity my grandmother finally took action to remedy the mess they had left her. She went out into the hallway and snatched back my cardboard box and faintly began to insist saying, “No, wait!”  Continue reading

The Show Down

While resting there on the street alone, a girl whom I had recently met on the first floor of Magnolia came and sat next to me and I conversed with the child innocently. My Aunt Gwenie apparently picked me out of the crowd and started screaming my name,”Juni! Juni!” Continue reading