Growing up, I thought it was tough being the daughter of a migrant. But on Mama’s Day, I remember my mom’s struggle and how it has made me a better person.
The professional, older mother who is constantly negotiating conflicts between her career expectations and having a young child at home is not a face you see all that often in Hallmark cards, especially if that face is an immigrant and a former teen mom.
I spent part of my childhood in pain and not talking about it. It was better to have a cracked rib than make my mom spend her hard-earned money to take me to the doctor and get it x-rayed.
As we approach Mother’s Day, I’m thinking about my mom and the women from Guatemala who cared for me when I was young and the millions of other mothers who are undermined because of inhumane policies and practices.
As we get ready to celebrate and honor the work that mamas do every day, I am struck by the severe disconnect between what immigrant mamas need to take care of their families and our current immigration policies.
In both the academic and the private sector, pregnancy discrimination is a drag on individual and familial success.
Yesterday, the Supreme Court heard oral argument in the case Adoptive Couple v. Baby Girl. While arguments touched on a number of topics, they centered on an issue crucial to all of us – how a parent is defined under the law.
When discussing STDs, it’s important to take a proactive approach, because early conversations help shape healthy attitudes and knowledge about STDs and sexual health. That’s especially true for youth.
In a strange turn of events and circumstance—being pregnant at 15—I found I suddenly had my life in my own hands. Finally people wanted to know what I wanted. Four days before my sixteenth birthday I became a teen mom, by my own choice.
As we talk about the role we all play in the prevention of sexually transmitted diseases, let’s state the obvious: Parents are important.