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This article really spoke to me. As a Mexican American who is very sensitive about issues of race, and then feels maybe a little phony about it due to my janky Spanish, I sometimes wonder where I fit in my whole culture. Can I still be proud of my heritage if I’ve never even been to Mexico?

In any case, I grew up a son of a mechanic (in Los Angeles) and I can’t even begin to describe the lessons I learned from him mostly because, as Shea says, they were taught mostly in silence. He wouldn’t tell me anything, he would just show me. How to respect others, how to carry myself, how to just be. I wish I had the ability to articulate it better. We had one real talk, just before he passed, and during that conversation I realized that my dad was everything I wanted to be. And 12 years later, he still is.

I am amazed how true this article is. Thank you, Shea.

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