The Rio Grande Valley…home to cactus mesquite and me. The three are all the same and yet nothing alike. Hermana (sister) cactus shows the pain of where I’ve been. A being thirsty, defensive, and forced to adapt so much that she holds on to every drop of rain never knowing where the next drink of water will come from. But Tio (Uncle) Mesquité shows the growth of who I am to become; a being with thick bark, deep strong roots, and foliage that miraculously thrives in the Texas heat. All are derived from source, yet simply different versions of the Trinity of me. Thus cactus, mesquite, and me 

As an aspiring Music Therapist, Sound Healer, Herbalist, and Curendera my journey is undeniably intertwined with my identity, intersectionality, and experiences. From the arbols de mesquité (mesquite trees) growing alongside the Rio Grande River, to the Nopales (Cactus) of the desert of my life, I am a minority from all sides and a revolutionary made from the backs of those who came before me. 

Although they don’t like to admit it due to forced assimilation, our ancestors were Native to this land. We have lived in this area of Turtle Island long before Mexico or America even excited. Far before borders and long before they changed our skin to white. But the blood doesn't lie with 40% Spanish, 10% French, and 50% Native ancestry to confirm our truth. Meztisos(people of mixed race) created via colonization and a paradox. Too “colored” to be respected but too white to be accepted.  

None the less I believe that I am the result of the suffering of my people. Ancestors from thousands of generations ago to now. I am the sweat on my grandfather's brow as he sang canciones(songs) in the fields as a child filling the Texas heat with the hope of making the farm work feel a little easier. I am the riddled fingers of my grandmother who sewed clothing for the white ladies for $3 an hour for twenty years. I am the heart disease that stole my grandmother away from me and plages the area in which I am from. I am the silence of my grandfather, a man of god muted by the tragedy of man and war. A Man too humble to complain, and too stubborn to ask for help…puro machismo(pure patriarchy). I am the sleepless nights of my parent's education. A nurse of a mother and a computer scientist of a father who both worked so ridiculously hard to give my brother and me the life outside of poverty that they always dreamed of. I am the result of government-rationed cheese, food stamps, and nights of my grandparents going to bed hungry to be sure their kids were fed. I am the Colonia (neighborhood) laughter and elotero(corn seller) horns silenced by the desperate violence of los coyotes y carteles. (Human traffickers and gangs) I am the smell of onions and bell peppers punching you in the face when you enter my grandmother's house. I am the masa harina that sits perfectly in between the tortilla press. I am the desperate screams of help from a generation that was silenced by pride and believed mental health was fixed by drinking Coronas and reading the bible. I am a survivor of the  7.5 per 100,000 suicide rate among Mexican Americans betrayed by the system and the 3rd leading cause of death among Hispanics aged 10-34 behind heart disease and diabetes. I am the ‘No sabo’ Spanglish-slinging child whose grandparents were beaten by nuns for speaking Spanish. Grandaughter to those who were so brainwashed they believed that speaking and teaching their children Spanish was a curse and a threat to their success. I am the queer cousin that no one understands and must accept being addressed with the wrong pronouns just to keep my grandparents from having a heart attack. They/them in private but Sarah forever.   

 I refuse to bend my branches, I refuse to uproot my teachings, and I refuse to become a cog in the capitalistic machine that values dead medicine over herbs, and money over the collective's well-being. I vow to become a healer with both a degree and the power of traditional teachings as a form of protest. Refusing to let the old ways die, and refusing to let the institutions win.