I thought of the question Steve asked me that day at the fire drill: Where are you from-from? Truth, when I think about where I’m from, I feel proud, like yeah, I’m from Boston. But then, well, I’m Latina, and my parents were born in Central America, and I’m from “JP” or “the city.” What people like Steve were really doing was not asking a question but making a statement: You must not be from here. So for my six-word autobiography, I wrote: Don’t ask me where I’m from. Yeah. And when Miss Amber asked us to share, for once I didn’t hesitate. I read it aloud: “Don’t ask me where I’m from.”
