los seis de boulder

As far back as I can remember, my father has told me that I'm a Chicana. As a child, I didn't understand the word and I had nothing to relate it to, but, my dad always had a smile when he said it.

When I was in fourth grade, my dad began self-publishing a short run Chicano news publication. The first issue included the retelling of a 1970's story of students in Colorado that were killed in bombings, targeted because of their wanting to "be the same as" others. At this time, I was about 10 years old and this was so confusing. I didn't really understand what equality meant - I had no idea that we hadn't "been the same". My dad's cousin had been one of the students killed in Boulder in 1974, when my dad was just a bit older than me when he told me this story.

I think back and I see so much more clearly everyday why my father always brought us back to el mero weso; the reason my siblings and I grew up attending community paint days at San Anto Cultural Arts and why eventually he'd become one of their directors; the reason he felt so strongly about preserving our history and never stopped talking about "our culture", and that we are Chicanos. It's really no wonder why I wouldn't find myself being anything, anywhere else today.

Ashley Mireles, Urban Ecology, 22 x 30", ink on paper