Who Am I: The Boyle Heights Essay

“I stand on one leg as I feel the breeze flow by listening to the mariachis playing in the distance. I smell the chiles I stand on one leg as I feel the breeze flow by listening to the mariachis playing in the distance. I smell the chiles being grilled from the restaurants as I ride down Cesar Chavez Ave to pick up some cat food at the local market. The owner greets me by name as I enter….I swerve and weave between the maze of cracks and roots that break off and divide the pavement into different continent sized chunks of stone and finally walk into my home with the peeling paint and rotting wood that is too expensive to be replaced. Off in the distance fireworks create a loud thunder that regularly plagues my community. The constant city noise drones on in the back of my mind with helicopters illuminating the night sky and the occasional police siren blaring as they race down the streets. This is my Boyle Heights, this is my home.”