When you grow up in a segregated community and poor, often times, you’re not aware of your ethnicity and class status. Growing up in tight-knit Mexican communities, from Tijuana, Mexico, to East Los Angeles, I didn’t realize that I was Mexican and poor until my first day of junior high school.
On the eve of Mother’s Day (for many Latinos living in Los Angeles), a group of mothers from Murchison Elementary Street School in Ramona Gardens spok... Read More...
