Opinion

My identity and community

The identity that I think stands out the most from me would be being Latina/Hispanic. I think being Latina/Hispanic is a good because it has made me bilingual and it’s useful. Being a Latina gets to show some of my personality and makes me a part of people who have their own traditions. Some of…
<a href="https://highschool.latimes.com/author/jennifer179/" target="_self">Jennifer Gomez</a>

Jennifer Gomez

February 24, 2017

The identity that I think stands out the most from me would be being Latina/Hispanic. I think being Latina/Hispanic is a good because it has made me bilingual and it’s useful.

Being a Latina gets to show some of my personality and makes me a part of people who have their own traditions. Some of those traditions include Christmas in which I see my come family together having a good time, hearing laughter and family members talking. Christmas is the time where the whole family gets together and have a good time. We get to eat posole, tamales, smell the hot chocolate and the food as well.

My neighborhood isn’t really that quiet since much of it is an open street. In the afternoon is when I can hear more noises because of the bus that passes, the cars, the people talking, children yelling, or sometimes my neighbors listening to music. In the night it’s less loud but there isn’t a day that goes by and I don’t listen the ambulance or the police pass by.

The community I live in has impacted part of my life because most of us share the same culture and get to hear the same thing. Some of the connections that I have made within my community would be that most of us were raised the same way like our common traditions or how we see things.

Some of the suggestions I have for city planners would be to keep the culture of our community and be able to show it or express it in different ways. For example, I think that some places should be changed up a little so they wouldn’t look the same. I think that more murals could also be a way of showing our Latin culture.

Poem: To My Target Panic

Poem: To My Target Panic

I remember the first time I met you, the first Sunday of September. Before we met, archery was predictable; my routine was reliable. The weight of my quiver, the resistance of my string, the curve of my limbs, and Sunday morning practice, it was always the same. But...