And frankly I don’t want to hear about your kids. We make choices. I’m not going to blame you because I’m childless; true, there is no one to get in my way, but there is also no one there to hug me when I need to be hugged. We must spin our own straw, not our neighbor’s. “Tell the truth. Your truth,” the writer Dorothy Allison has written. There is power in your work if you come at it from that place uniquely yours, not your sister’s, but yours. Otherwise we risk creating stereotypes. If I see another work of art that glorifies la abuelita, I’m going to throw a berrinche. Aren’t our
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