At just shy of 21, I moved to New York City with a stack of well-worn books, a need for independence and a fantasy of becoming a writer. It was 1995 and I had dropped out of community college across the river in New Jersey, more interested in going to raves than studying all night. I thought school might not be for me.
My Abuela's Unwavering Faith Carried Me from Drugs to a Degree
This is stunning. Thank you. I loved this line: "I was a student of Lala and her ways."
Carla, this is so beautifully written. Thank you for sharing with the world. Viva Lala y las abuelas <3
Beautiful piece. Thanks for sharing Lala with all of us.
So beautiful 🥲 real tears