BY NAOMI SANCHEZ, 16 Disclaimer: There exists a false pretension in regards to the meaning of the word Feminism. Some have made this term to mean the root cause of lesbianism, hatred towards men, an affront Christian values and principles, and disruption of our civil society. Feminism: How I define it- A way to call out injustices based on gender, and to vouch for equality among both sexes. That’s it, nothing more, nothing less. As women in this world, we are constantly fighting an uphill battle. A battle for equality and independence from the masculine political (i.e the Patriarchy) system. In this world, women are objectified, silenced, and taken advantage of. What feminism does, is fight for women’s voices to be heard, and for a woman to become equal with a man, not just in the workplace, but in civic society, as well. Let’s start off with the workplace: I am a strong believer that sometimes statistics can speak just as much as words, so let’s take a look at this chart. As a woman, …

by Bianca and Naomi Sanchez Recently, in the small population that is our mother’s Facebook, college has been a controversial topic. My sister and I thought, as a current and future college student, it was time our voices were added to the conversation. As a disclaimer, these are our individual experiences and opinions, supported by some statistics. We are not trying to change people’s opinion, or judge people for their decisions. We know that college is not meant for everyone, but we do think it is meant for us! WHY I’M AT COLLEGE? BIANCA: 18 YEARS OLD – NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY I have only lived about 6,783 days, give or take a couple for the leap years, but either way December 15, 2014 was great. I had been anxiously awaiting an email from my top school choice, Northwestern University. At 5:29 PM, I was sent that email. My parents and sister knew I was expecting it, but I wanted this moment to myself. So I took a cookie, I think it was a Samoa, and walked …

“I am tired.” Lately, I’ve been confessing this, way too often.  And that really irks me. It makes me feel weak. As if I can’t handle things, or worse, I am failing in being me. You see, as a bonafide self-acclaimed type A, get it done, multitasker, overachiever, pretty much wannabe Wonder Woman- weakness isn’t something, I so easily embrace, or accept. If anything, my tenacity provokes a kick butt approach to life – pressing through, moving forward, getting back up, is the way I prefer to do things. By no means, am I proclaiming to have it all together, because I don’t.  But, I do admit that I am a teeny (just an iota) bit prideful, and I am sure many of you can relate. The problem with this way of thinking is that at times, I don’t know my limits, or that I am about to jump off the deep end. I have gotten better at this, but then again, I still have my seasons. I am not saying it is wrong to …

A couple of weeks ago, I sat across from a good friend. We were in McDonalds. And we were fasting. Fortunately, I find nothing on the menu appealing, well, not anymore. A few years ago, I was addicted to their Coca Cola. While others in the morning walked into work with a coffee in their hands, I had my medium Coca Cola. I’m convinced they add extra sugar to their mix. This was an issue until  four years ago when a fast stopped that horrible habit. Tear, tear! So, there we were, in a booth, sitting across from each other, with our small coffee (which is a must during our talks) and dried oatmeal topped with some want-to-be fresh fruits. We definitely weren’t there for the gourmet cuisine, or the ambiance for that matter, rather, we were there to empty our hearts, to listen, and to love one another unconditionally. Neither of us put on masks, or speak with religious lingo- “all is well” and  “blessed and highly favored”. There is no religious superstition, such …

Working mom, I know your day, oh so well. From the wee hours in the morning to those late evening hours. In the morning, the alarm goes off, you roll out of bed, your feet hit the floor, and you’re off to another day. But, first, a cup of coffee is a must (at least for me), so you turn on the coffeemaker. The kitchen is dark and quiet, just like you left it the night before. If you are lucky, you have a few minutes to actually sit and enjoy the coffee, as you read a devotional or something to your likening. Usually, before you get to the last sip of the coffee, you are reminded of something that needs to get done before you wake everyone up.  The load of clothes that needs to be switched, the dinner that needs to be placed in the slow cooker, or the lunch that needs to be warmed and placed in the thermos. And sometimes, it is all three of these. With a second cup of …

I like to believe that every household has a junk draw, and it is most likely in the kitchen, or at least that is where mine is located. It’s the drawer where you put the miscellaneous things. The things that don’t have a designated place. The drawer you shove things in when you want to do a quick cleaning, or when someone surprisingly stops by. It’s amazing what you can fit in the drawer during those moments. The drawer you can barely close, you have to push things down in order for it to shut. The drawer you want to avoid at all costs, and never open in front of your guests. I inherited the junk drawer idea from my parents, and most likely those that have one can say the same or at least pass the blame. When my husband and I bought our first home, I designated a drawer for my utensils, and without much thought or opposition, I also designated a drawer as the official junk drawer. Every so often I conjure …

It was midnight. It was New Year’s Day.  You were hopefully surrounded by the people you love- friends and family members. You shouted Happy New Year. You made the rounds hugging and kissing everyone. If you are Hispanic, you may have ate all twelve grapes, swept the living room, or walked in circle with your suitcase. You were excitedly thinking-out with the old, and in with the new. It was all good and dandy. Then, you wake up the next day. And then, pressure to start anew becomes real. The “to do list” or better yet, our goal list for 2016 is running through our heads. To commit to leaving the past where it belongs.  To lose weight. To get your finances in order. To have better relationships with boundaries. Pretty much, it all comes down to becoming a better you. And there you are laying in bed thinking, “Oh my, this is too much for me to process right now. Oh well! Here’s to tomorrow, or even better there is always next year.” Then, …

If you are fortunate, life is filled with many memorable moments.  But the day you become a parent may be the most monumental moment of all. Every minute detail of that day will be stored in your heart of memories. From the obscure details, like eating a McDonald’s big breakfast less than an hour after the baby is born, (yes, I did that) to the glorious moment of holding your precious baby for the very first time.  And there it begins, all of the extraordinary baby’s first times: the first cheesy smile that you know isn’t due to gas, the first contagious giggle that you find yourself doing anything to keep going, the first sighting of the tooth barely cutting through the gums, the utterance of a first word “mama” or “dada”, and, of course the first toddling steps. But, so much needs to happen – crawling, standing up, and cruising (or walking by holding furniture)- before the baby can let go of the furniture or your leg, and take those steps. I think the …

Those that know me well, know that I don’t participate much in outdoor recreational activities, the more adventurous the activity is, the less likely I am to do it. Canoeing, kayaking, hiking, and rock climbing to name a few. To speak quite candidly – I am perfectly okay with it. For you outdoor enthusiasts, trust me when I say, it’s not a need or a desire of mine. However, I do delight in an outdoor stroll in the park or sitting in my backyard taking in the fresh air. I’ll even go as far to say, if I had a bike, I am pretty sure I would be fond of an occasional bike ride, especially around the lake. A little confession… Sometimes, when I drive down Lakeshore Drive, I yearn to be out there. I get caught up in the scene – the bike riders, the swimmers, the runners, the walkers – all the fit people of Chicago in one destination doing their thing, as I sit in my car taking a french fry out …

Experiencing the small, yet most meaningful, things in my life doesn’t come easy. But, when I deliberately stop and set time aside to make it happen, it is, by far, the most natural and fulfilling experience.  The world around us is moving at a faster rate every day.  The demands of life are pulling us in all different directions. From the never ending to-do list to the booked calendar, we are saying too many yes’s, and not enough no’s. Our decisions are driven by the wrong motives, such as, guilt, approval and affirmation. Instead, it should be aligned to our priorities. For me, they are God, family and ministry. These days, I am also finding that I need for things to slow down in my life more. I just want to sit, and not in front of a screen. I want to sit and watch my life with a heart filled with contentment. Today, I did just that. I sat in my backyard, looking at the fallen, crisp leaves move across the cement, as I …

For me, Autumn is happiness. It is… taking a stroll in the neighborhood- my backdrop being the trees and grass covered with fall leaves. indulging in warm pies: cherry, pumpkin, and apple. Listening to worship music. Spilling out my heart as I write about my life with no limits. sitting in my comfy chair. Wearing a warm, fluffy sweater while drinking cinnamon apple tea and reading a good book that feeds my soul. These simple moments slow me down, and bring me to a place of sweet contentment. But ironically, Autumn is a season of things dying: grass, leaves, plants, insects. Before we know it, the brisk Chicago Winter will envelop us, and a life of hibernation awaits us. Some of us will experience cabin fever, and once that first warm day in Spring embraces us with its presence, the world will seem a little smaller because everyone will be out and about. There is no doubt that seasons come and go. And, so does happiness. It is inevitable that we will have days that …

Not long ago, I endured a season of loneliness and isolation. Although, I was surrounded by people that loved me, plenty of places to visit, and tons of distracting things, I felt like I was on a deserted island. Unfamiliar waters with frightening waves, generated by the fierce winds, surrounded me. And, my goal was to not let this unpleasant, nonetheless, necessary season overtake me. I didn’t want to stay on the island, and I, especially, didn’t want to become an island. There are distinct differences between the two metaphors-  being on an island and becoming an island. The former is acknowledging that your life situation has you in a temporary circumstance. While the latter is the aftermath of not understanding temporary situations and the victories that await you through enduring and growing from them. I am the first to concede how easy it is to be derailed, defeated, and defined by a season. I have the scars and wounds to prove it.  But, I also have the stories of restoration, redemption and rehabilitation that …

A woman turning 40 is not viewed in a positive light. For many, it is downhill from here. Literally, gravity is steadily pulling parts of their body down. Three days after my 40th birthday, my youngest daughter celebrated her 7th birthday with a garden theme party in our backyard. Unfortunately, our backyard lacked a garden. The cement backyard had a designated garden area, somewhat like a garden bed. But, there weren’t many flowers blooming. On the right side stood a slanted peach tree full of life – covered with tons of unripened peaches. There sweet aroma filled the backyard. In the center of the garden was a wild raspberry bush whose branches spread like uncontrollable tentacles. It was blooming with raspberry buds. And, then there was the pink rosebush on the left side of the garden. It only had one branch that had blossomed. The other branches were bare and appeared to be dead. Due to my unattractive raspberry bush and dying rosebush, I knew without a doubt I had to incorporate some vibrant, colorful …

I am certain you’ve experienced a bad day (or two) that left you wishing you had the miraculous power to turn back the hands of time to the moment when your alarm clock rang that morning. And instead of your feet hitting the floor to start the day, you would turn the alarm off, and your head would hit the pillow. Bad days leave us wondering what could have been, if only we would have taken the day off and stayed in bed. For this reason, what usually comes to the forefront of your head are the things you love to indulge in. If only I stayed home, I would have… slept until 10 a.m. with the blanket over my head. Fooling my brain into believing it is still dark outside. My ceiling fan would be up and spinning, to draw out the noise from outside. treated myself to breakfast in bed. Preferably, a traditional big breakfast- sunny side up eggs, hash browns, bacon, sausage, and toast with butter and jelly- with freshly brewed coffee.  …

I have an appreciation for beautiful things: freshly cut flowers – preferably tulips- in an mason jar with crystal clear water, driving into the sunset on an open road that leads to home, a cup of cafe con leche and a good book, an elderly couple holding hands across a table as they gaze into each others eyes, as if for the first time. Then, there are the beautiful memories of my mom’s loudness: her deep, strong, raspy voice, her contagious laughter that filled the air, her whistle – which she did with two fingers slightly spread apart and pressed against her mouth – the sound of her feet pounding against the hallway floor, as I tried to sleep in just a little longer. For me, my mom depicted beauty inwards and outwards. But the most beautiful things I love to observe are the interactions between a mother and child. A newborn baby slowly turning his head towards the sound of his mother’s voice. A mother wiping the tears of her child’s eyes as she …

About a year ago, I wrote a monologue script detailing my mom’s sickness that has left her in a vegetative state.  Throughout the story, I alternated from the past to the present (bold print). My God, He is my JOY! I still remember the day like it was yesterday, but it’s been nine years. It was an ordinary day. I was shopping in the toy section of Target for my two little girls, Bianca and Naomi. Let’s see. I promised to buy them a little something. (Phone rings.) Hello!    Hello!    Hello! Mom?! Are you okay? Mom, please stop crying. I can’t understand you. What did the doctor have to say? Dementia? But, you’re only 46 years old. How could this be?! You may have had a stroke?! Nerve damage to your brain?! Okay. But, what does all of this mean? You are going to lose your memory. Rapidly!!! How long do you have before you will no longer recognize us? Two to three years?!  Oh my…. I’ll be there soon. Love you. Bye! …

In the early 80s, technology to us was the television (the console type, if you were fancy it came with a little box that let you change the channels!), the record player, rotary phone (with the extended cord), the two-dimensional pong game (bleep, bleep), and, if you were lucky, the latest and greatest video game- Atari (can you say…Space Invaders). Back in my day, we didn’t have all of the current technology kids have now. But, we had plenty of face-to-face conversations with our neighbors. But, since then, plenty of innovative inventions such as the cell phone, wireless internet, Google, Social Networks, and Cable TV, have been introduced. They have increased our ability to obtain things faster, and we have become more efficient. However, some of these inventions have hurt us more than we realized or would like to admit. These innovations have undoubtedly stolen precious, non-retractable time from our lives and our loved ones. They have become time wasters. The very thing they were made to give us more of. If we aren’t catching …

Many of us are familiar with the saying “born with a silver spoon in your mouth”. In short, it is a saying to represent a person born into a wealthy family. However, you may not know the history behind that saying. In the 1700s, it was common for individuals to bring their own spoons to the table. Having a silver spoon conveyed your social class, and at times was a way to identify land- owners from slaves. Hence, silver spoons were linked to wealth. In the mid 70s, I came into this world with a plastic spoon in my mouth. My teenage, runaway parents were penniless, pinched for money, down-and-out, flat broke… But according to my dad, my mom and him were poor, but proud. They were determined to make it, on their own. Back in my day, we didn’t have much, but we were resourceful and appreciative with what we had. We were so poor that when I was four years old and my sister was two years old, my mom moved most of …

A penny doesn’t buy you much these days. In fact, legislators are recommending they stop making the penny. The cost of producing, handling, and counting penny coins is simply not worth it. Back in my day, a penny was worth something. The Penny Loafer’s opening in the strap was a good place to keep a penny or two for an emergency phone call. Pay-phones were once five cents. The penny was also seen as good luck. For brides it was  “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a lucky penny in the shoe.” Back then, you wouldn’t walk by a penny and not pick it up. Like the saying went, “Find a penny, pick it up. All day long, you’ll have good luck.” Unless, of course, the penny was tails side up, then some people would turn it around for the the next person to find.  Some people believed that it was only good luck to pick up a penny if it was heads side up. But for children back then all pennies …

Back In My Day: Introduction For many of us, when we read “back in my day…” we envision an elderly person sharing their past and emphasizing how simple and, occasionally, how much better things were for them.  Sometimes, a grumpy older person will express how good we have it compared to their childhood experiences. Like, “I had to walk a mile to get to school… I had twice the amount of chores… I didn’t have nearly-half the amount of stuff kids have today… Although I still consider myself a youngin’, this cliche is quite fitting for the four part series that I am going to share next, on this blog. As we enter Spring, I am compelled to share my warm, weather stories of what my childhood was like, in the early 80s on the south side streets of Chicago. I hope you can join me on my ride down memory lane… Back In My Day: Part 1 – Old Fashioned Fun My street was 53rd and Wood. Unlike most Chicago neighborhood streets, it was …