Growing up in El Paso meant longing for the twin sister I’d never see again — Yo soy fronteriza/I am of the border. I know that I am and always will exist on both sides of the dividing line. I have lived on the U.S. side for over 60 years and for an equal amount of time, mi cuatita/my twin sister, Elisa, has laid buried in…

I grew up with a mentally ill mother. I used to call her “hard” or “difficult” or “angry.” My relatives would say “que tenía un caracter.” She had a strong personality. Her doctor told me she was “just being her.” The reality, however, was that from the time I was…

There are stories. ​ There are stories that are passed on from generation to generation. And there are stories that are silenced and forgotten. There are people who carry the stories consciously and those who don’t care. Sometimes the stories survive in the most breathtaking of details and others barely exist as…

A grainy 1924 photo of Felicitas from her local border crossing card. The story of Felicitas Leyva is one of the interrupted stories that wove itself throughout my childhood and remained with me into adulthood. I’ve never stopped thinking about her and, as the years have passed, I have felt…

I’m totally deaf in my right ear. It happened as a result of numerous tumors that grew inside my right ear over the course of years, destroying the small bones that allow us to hear. My otolaryngologist told me that the roots of my tumors and subsequent deafness must have…

There are stories that live on in our families as fragments, as small details shared casually in the midst of conversation. We must never underestimate their power, however, or undervalue their place in our familial healing. Bringing these interrupted stories to light and creating the bridge that connects the past…