The feeling of what community means to me began at a very young age while growing up in Mexico, and the experiences I had with my family and neighbors helped me significantly to become the person I am today and appreciate Restorative Justice even more now being an older adult. Community to me means more than simply being surrounded by people. For me, community means belonging, accountability, support, and knowing that you do not have to face difficult moments alone.
The first three times I ever asked for help while living in an abusive relationship, I turned to my father. He was the male figure I believed was supposed to protect me from any harm in my life. But for more than a decade, every time I found the courage to ask for help, the message was the same: the blame was placed on me.
I grew up with pain, guilt, and the responsibility of caring for my siblings. When I was 10, I was sexually abused by my uncle and my grandfather, over and over again. I grew up carrying that burden alone, convincing myself it was normal. My parents’ beatings were part of everyday life. I had no one to trust.
In theory, rights are clear. Women have the right to health, autonomy, identity, and safety. Girls and adolescents have the right to be protected, to be heard, and to grow up in environments that support their well-being. But in practice—especially for immigrant women in the United States—these rights are not always accessible.
People sometimes ask: why do we have a Women’s Day but not a Men’s Day? The answer is simple. Because men have historically held the power. They have been the ones making decisions and shaping the systems. They never needed a special day to be recognized.
This is the context in which Cigüeña emerged: a card game about children's sexual health, created so that adults—mothers, fathers, caregivers, educators, and professionals—can learn first, before trying to teach. Because what most of us received as “sex education” were myths, silences, inherited fears, or confusing explanations that never really answered what we needed to know.
Engaging in conversations with friends and family about these issues has been fulfilling. It’s rewarding to be part of a larger community dedicated to holistic advocacy for survivors. Together, we are working towards a better future, and every voice matters.
So much of cooking at home is viewed as part of a "woman's" duty. An ideology entrenched in patriarchy, passed down by not just our fathers, but our matriarchs as well. “Ya te puedes casar” is the compliment one receives after making a delicious meal, usually learned by watching our mothers and grandmothers cook.
Today, Councilmembers Ung, Lee and Krishnan rallied with members of The Collective, a coalition of culturally specific gender-based violence service providers serving immigrant and BIPOC survivors in New York City, and other service providers to announce the creation of a new City Council initiative.
I grew up with a mother that talked to me about choices, when I was old enough she talked to me about pregnancy, the beauty and hardship of raising children, and most importantly I witnessed her raising 4 children as a single, immigrant mother.