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Many of the narratives in this collection are stories of conflict, moments when these writers were forced to confront a sense of the "other." Juan Vargas learns too young what it means to be hunted as an immigrant. Quintashia Mixon faces down a hostile beauty judge. Frankchesska Fortoul marches against the government in Venezuela. Salvador Huezo confronts his own rage. Also, make sure to read SMC English professor Lawrence Driscoll's advice on the craft of essay writing. Enjoy.
El Viejito
by Mary Alvarado
This awful feeling in my stomach made its way out of my mouth, converting into words and I said: "Forgive me for not knowing you well."
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Border Crossing
by Juan Vargas
On the other side of the river, someone cried: "La migra. La migra." My dad guided us to a safe place near the river. He said it was time to run.
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Protest
by Frankchesska Fortoul
"Juan!" I yelled. His eyes met mine but after a few seconds, his eyes opened wide and his expression changed to terror. I turned back slowly and heard gunfire.
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The Pageant
by Quintashia Mixon
Burning curling irons, enflamed hair, and a delicate linger of perspiration with fruit flavored body splash filled the air.
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The Bull
by Richard Martinez
Up the street, I saw the crowd spill out trying to avoid being trampled by a bull. Everywhere people yelled. Soon, the locals and my companions heard a bull roaring…
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Sunday Church
by Bertha Galindo
The woman behind me has a two-year-old who throws Oreos and Cheerios on the ground. Some pieces land on my hair. I look back and smile.
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Age Dictates Wisdom
by Michelle Zamora
Discrimination? I'm black and Mexican! Why would I inflict what I've experienced my whole life to anyone? My face was beginning to get very hot, and I felt dizzy.
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Mosh Pit
by Salvador Huezo
Blood splattered everywhere. I wanted to break someone’s nose or even make someone bleed.
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Sticking your Neck Out
by Lawrence Driscoll
No matter how big your vocabulary or how slick your sentences, a paper that is just a dumping ground for facts will never come alive as an "essay."
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Persecute
by Josue Cuellar
"Hell not," yelled the soaring bully who looked like a guerilla. His face turned red and angry. He looked like he wanted to eat me or cut me into pieces.
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Boy
by Bliss Kennedy
What if they recognized me and told my father what I bought? I can’t take this right now. I felt like I had just robbed a bank, and there was a SWAT team waiting for me outside the store.
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The Game
by Amberr Williams
Lindsey stood up fast and brave with so much confidence and dignity: "I’m tired of you stupid NIGGERS," and the door slammed behind.
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