Celebrating disabled joy

Wow, it's been a while since I've posted.  Why? It's because for the last year, I've been mourning one of the best people I knew, Patty Berne. The 100% brilliant and beautiful director of Sins Invalid, a performance project that centers disabled people of color and disabled people who identify as LGBTQ, died 1 year ago. This incredible, disabled, femme of color taught me extremely important life lessons. First, Patty helped me understand that our personal worth is not based on what/how much we produce. We are valuable exactly as we are.  My amazing mentor also instilled in me the value of finding joy in the disabled community. I found that disabled joy at the Rollettes Experience last year. In 2025, at the Rollettes  Experience,  a conference for women and girls in wheelchairs founded by Chelsea Hill, there was the most awe-inspiring panel. This panel consisted of Ali Stroker, the first woman in a wheelchair to be on Broadway, Andraea LaVant, the first person with a physical disability to roll on the Oscars red carpet, Jenifer Kumiyama,  the first person in a wheelchair to voice a character in a Disney movie, and Angela Rockwood, the first producer of a reality show about women in wheelchairs. I can't wait to tell you about this year's Rollettes Experience and hopefully next year we can experience this disability joy together. Happy Disability Pride Month!!!

A moment to remember

 With a horrible president returning to power today, I wanted to tell you all a story of joy. In 2021, my college best friend, Alena Morales, was on one of the most beloved disability podcasts of that time, Alice Wong's ''Disability Visibility.'' Alena, who has multiple disabilities herself, and is a person of color, decided to take on the mission of advocating for a Disability Cultural Space on the UC Berkeley's campus. Despite some opposition from Berkeley's administration, Alena's goal was achieved. Alena's story is a testimony to the saying, if you set your mind on something, anything is possible.

One incredible Experience

This summer,  I had one of the best experiences of my 33 years of life, thanks to Chelsea Hill. Chelsea, now 32, has turned becoming disabled in a car accident into creating the most incredible organization I know of for women who use wheelchairs, called the Rollettes Experience. The Rollettes Experience, which was  originally formed as an empowerment conference for women and girls with disabilities soon became my dream come true weekend. At the Sheraton Hotel near LAX Airport, Chelsea and the rest of the women who work for the Rollettes organized the best conversations on topics like disability and dating, and what it means to have intersecting identities, like being both disabled and LBGTQ. On one panel was both Ali Stroker, the first woman who use a wheelchair to grace Broadway, and Andraea LaVant, the first physically disabled, Black, woman to be invited to the Oscars. These powerful leaders spoke about the need to create something you want in your community, if it doesn't already exist. The Rollettes Experience inspired me and if you need some disability magic in your life next summer, check out the Rollettes.

Shamelessly boosting a podcast

For  Disability Pride month, I am 100 percent shamelessly boosting the podcast, ''I Weigh with Jameela Jamil.''  For those of you who may not know, ''I Weigh,'' hosted  by the amazing Jameela Jamil from ''The Good Place,'' is a podcast fighting against shame  and promoting mental health. I LOVE Jameela Jamil because as a famous person with a disability, called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, she truly makes the effort to elevate the experiences of people with disabilities. In both her interviews with Jillian Mercado from ''The L Word Generation Q''' and Lauren ''Lolo'' Spencer from ''The Sex Lives of College Girls,'' Mx. Jamil  discusses the importance of having people with real disabilities being represented on screen. Being a person with Cerebral palsy who has thought about disability representation for 14 years, it feels deeply validating to hear a Hollywood actress talk about this issue with such passion. So thank you Jameela Jamil.

What's wrong with the Oscars?

 The lack of diversity in 2024’s Academy Award winners astounded me. I was absolutely appalled by the fact that Barbie was nominated alongside one of the most unique films of the 21st century, American Fiction. Several critics hail Barbie as being a revolutionary reimagining of feminism. However, I observed It as a capitalist celebration of the white, heteronormative,  able-bodied, standards of beauty that Americans hold, clearly personified by its leading actors, Ryan Gosling and Margot Robbie. On the other hand, I thought that American Fiction, starring Jeffery Wright and Sterling K.Brown brilliantly satirized the fact that Black writers are put into stylistic boxes by white audiences. Therefore, I do not understand how the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences categorized these two movies as being of the same quality.

A little bit of happiness

In such a dark time in the world, with the threat  of Trump regaining power, we still need to find a little bit of happiness wherever we can. Personally, one major  way of finding my joy, besides my amazing Sins Invalid community is by watching YouTube videos of my friend David Zimmerman's interviews with impactful people with disabilities. David works for an incredible program, Performing Arts Studio West, PASW, that trains people with disabilities who wants to be part of the entertainment industry. PASW, created by the kindest person I know, John Paizis, has opened so many doors for people with disabilities to be on film and television. In its 25 years  PASW has booked members of the disabled community, including myself, roles on ''The Secret Life of the American Teenager,'' ''ER,'' ''The Nick Kroll Show,'''  '''Saving Grace,'' and dozens more. John is one of those everyday heroes who makes our world a better place.

Anyway, I digressed...back to David. One of my favorites is his interview with Ali Stroker, the first woman who uses a wheelchair to take Broadway by storm and win a Tony for her role in '''Oklahoma.'' Since David knew what a huge fan I am of hers, he created an opportunity for me to meet and ask her a question on Zoom.  This was definitely a highlight in my life. Another huge moment for me, thanks to David, was participating in an online interview with Disability Rights icon Judy Heumann. This was amazing enough, but then David surprises us with incredible guest stars, such as Ryan O'Connell from Netflix's ''Special'' and the history making Geri Jewell, who was the first actress with a disability to be on TV when she co-starred on ''The Facts of Life.'' I don't  know how David does what he does,  but he is magic. 

Crip Kinship

Crip Kinship the Disability Justice and Art Activism of Sins Invalid, by Shayda Kafai, is another amazing book. The reason it's so important is that Kafai documents the history, creation, and legacy of this incredible performance group of queer, disabled people of color. We have the opportunity to learn the first hand stories of Disability Justice leaders such as Patricia Berne, Maria  Palacios, and Leah Piepzna Samarasinha. This beautiful writer gives us insight into how Patty Berne and co-founder Leroy Moore imagined a radically inclusive theater community at a cafe named La Pena in Berkeley, California. Knowing that this wonderful performance project started over one conversation gives me hope that any dream can be possible.

Happy pride

Happy 2023 pride month. I know it's been a long while since I've written anything on here, but get ready for a lot more content. Given that this is LGBTQ  pride month, I've decided to feature some of my favorite examples of LGBT representation in the media. Although the 2012 film,  Any Day Now, is  extremely sad and has no main cast members  of color, it has a very special place in my heart. This is because Performing Arts Studio West, a professional training program for actors with disabilities, directed by the kindest man I know, John Paizis, gave me the opportunity to be an extra in this movie. Being able to have a part in Any Day  Now was really meaningful because it tells an important story of the struggles that a gay couple go through trying to adopt a young man with Downs Syndrome. If you are in the mood for comedy though, check out Netflix's original series, Special. Starred in and written by Ryan O'connell, Special is about a young white guy who has Cerebral palsy, and is trying to figure out how to be more sexually active.

While these are decent examples of LGBT representation, I would now like to present even better ones. In the 2021 version of Cinderella, the ingenious Billy Porter redefined what it can mean  to be a fairy Godmother as a queer, Black, man. This is huge, because it shows the world that magic can come from people of all races and gender identities. Another fantastic show with excellent representation is The L Word Generation Q.  In this groundbreaking  series, beautiful Jillian Mercado, who is Latina, tries to face the challenges of having a baby with a trans man, while dealing with her Muscular Dystrophy. We need to celebrate this content that embraces queer characters of color during pride.

A fantastic book

One fantastic book I've read semi-recently is The Pretty One; On Life, Pop Culture, Disability, and Other Reasons to Fall in Love with Me, by Keah Brown. Ms. Brown is a young, Black, activist/writer who has Cerebral Palsy. What I love about The Pretty One is that Keah Brown really focuses on telling the readers who she is as a whole person, instead of merely explaining the mechanics of her disability. For example, I know that she loves cheesecake, and her favorite band is Paramore. I also found out that she likes Tia and Tamera Mowry  more than Mary Kate and Ashley Olson, because she sees herself in the former. Keah Brown's book is a real life illustration of Patricia Berne's principle of Disability Justice, ''recognizing wholeness.''

#RepresentationMatters part 2

Does the entertainment industry really care about inclusion? Recently, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences created an initiative to celebrate more of our country’s diversity in films. This initiative states that starting in 2024, for a movie to be nominated for Best Picture, it must meet a diversity threshold for two of the four following standard:

On-Screen representation, themes and narratives

Creative leadership and project team

Industry access and opportunities

Audience development

Although this is a valiant effort to be more inclusive on the part of the Academy, I personally think it is deeply flawed. This is because even if a movie has racial diversity in the senior executives on their marketing team and women getting industry access and opportunities Hollywood could still be exclusionary. Hollywood can still rely on the ableism that the entertainment industry has been built upon since its inception. From My Left Foot to Me Before You to The Upside, Hollywood has always made millions of dollars off of movies about people with disabilities without casting anyone disabled. 

One 2020 film that would fit the requirements of the new Oscars’ inclusion Initiative, but is not fully inclusive, is Prom. Prom is about a group of washed-up Broadway stars that want to create a prom for a young lesbian who has been bullied. Even though I hate to criticize a movie with such an incredible cast (especially Kerry Washington), I do see one major flaw. There are absolutely no people with visible disabilities in the entire ensemble. According to RespectAbility, a nonprofit organization that fights stigmas and advances opportunities for people with disabilities, 1 in 4 Americans has a disability. This means that when movies like Prom and others choose not to include people with disabilities, they are also choosing not to be representative of the largest minority group in the United States. The entertainment industry should include people with disabilities and people who identify as members of other marginalized groups, not to be rewarded, but because it’s the right thing to do. 

https://time.com/5887344/oscars-diversity-rules-movies/

#RepresentationMatters

Advocating for more disability representation in the media is something I have been passionate about for the last 10 years. I have seen all of the errors that Hollywood has made related to portraying people with disabilities. The entertainment industry has messed up so many times: from Ryan Murphy playing into the stereotype of wheelchair users wishing to walk on a Christmas episode of Glee, to HBO Max’s film, The Witches’ decision to make Anne Hathaway’s character have a missing limb. Another recent example of disability drag is Sia casting a neurotypical actress to play an Autistic character in the movie Music. Yet recently, the media has thankfully upped its representation game.

For one, the Lifetime channel created a wonderful movie, Christmas Ever After. Christmas Ever After is the first romantic comedy to star an actress who uses a wheelchair. Ali Stroker, the star, is a world changer in her own right, being the first wheelchair user to win a Tony Award for her part in the Broadway musical, Oklahoma! Besides Christmas Ever After’s decision to cast a character with a disability authentically, the story also portrays a person with a disability in a more positive light than most films do. Instead of the director, Pat Kiely, reinforcing the stereotype that people should pity people with disabilities, she made Ali Stroker’s character, Izzi Simmons, a professional writer. Ali Stroker’s success absolutely should be celebrated. However, as one of my best friends, Andy Arias, an amazing, disabled, superstar advocate, pointed out, actresses with disabilities who are white, like Ali Stroker, are not necessarily paving the way for performers who are multiply marginalized.

Speaking of multiply marginalized people with disabilities, perhaps the most important accomplishment of 2020 in the disability community is the publication of Disability Visibility: First Person Stories from the Twenty-first Century, edited by Alice Wong. Alice Wong, who is a disability activist, curated this incredible anthology of stories by some of the greatest leaders in disability justice today. Patty Berne, the executive director of Sins Invalid, who is a queer, disabled, femme of color, writes one of the vignettes. She beautifully explains the importance of loving each other, even in the midst of the world maybe coming to an end. Another great contributor to Disability Visibility is Lateef McLeod, who is a Sins Invalid performer. He writes about how his augmentative communication device helps him create political and social change. Equally powerful was the story of Jeremy Woody, who recounted how he was denied access to an ASL interpreter while in prison. This story defines both the need for access everywhere and the need for story telling by people with disabilities for the disabled community. All three of these stories represent experiences we do not normally read about, but we need to. In my opinion, Disability Visibility shows us that the best disability representation in the media happens when people with disabilities create it authentically. 

We Love Like Barnacles

This new era of ushering in Joe Biden and Kamala Harris into the White House is a symbol of hope for the United States. For me, it’s hope that brutal killings of Black people, like George Floyd in Minneapolis, and Breonna Taylor in Kentucky will no longer go unpunished. It’s also hope that America realizes that under no circumstance is it acceptable for immigrants to be thrown into cages, or Black Lives Matter protesters to be tear gassed. Additionally, my hope is that no president will ever be as mean as Donald Trump was when he said to representatives Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Ilhan Omar, Ayanna Pressley, and Rashida Tlaib, “go back to your country.” Simply put, I hope that people in America return to treating each other with kindness and respect.

            However, we as people who are disabled or probably know someone with a disability cannot simply rely on hope alone. My beloved Sins Invalid community sent us a clear message in their most recent performance, “We Love Like Barnacles: Crip Lives in Climate Chaos,” that we need to love each other, especially in this time of climate chaos. One of the performers, Maria Palacios, known as the Goddess on Wheels, discussed issues around emergency preparedness. Painfully, this beautiful, brown, immigrant, disabled woman conveyed the fact that a lot of people with disabilities do not have the money, due to being on Supplemental Security Income (SSI), to buy enough food to prepare for an emergency. Nobody should have to worry about not having enough food. Lateef McLeod, another brilliant performer and a published author, expressed his concern of whether a person will take him out of his wheelchair in a fire. A memorable part of Lateef’s piece was when he mentions his anxiety about firefighters forgetting to take his augmentative communication device, which is his primary means of communication. Since Lateef is a Black Jamaican man, he also worries about whether the color of his skin will impact how first responders treat him. Again, no one should have to deal with any of these concerns. Bianca Laureano, an award winning writer and sexologist, also performed a powerful piece in “We Love Like Barnacles.” She very personally discussed her devastation around the President’s careless reaction to Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico. President Trump did not do anything (except have a helicopter dispense some rolls of paper towels) to help thousands of people who lost their electricity and homes in the aftermath. There is absolutely no way in the world that this should be acceptable. All of these incredible artists’ stories demonstrate that there is definitely not enough love and human kindness on this planet. Even if the world is about to end, we need to go out treating each other with more compassion, love, and support.

Another great book that I think is important to read and discuss is Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability, and Making Space by Amanda Leduc. Leduc, who has Cerebral palsy, brings her disability justice lens into her analysis of childhood stories. This author quite intelligently lays out several problematic themes that are hidden beneath the surface of these fairy tales. After reading this amazing piece of writing, I have a completely different perspective of the tales I grew up knowing and loving.

First, Leduc notes that fairy tales, for the most part, follow norms of white, heteronormative, and ableist society. Besides the obvious fact that these children’s stories usually center a male-identified prince and a female-identified princess who are in love with each other, there are numerous other ways that fairy tales exclude kids from marginalized communities. I don’t think there is an inherent problem with portrayals of heteronormative, white characters, but when that is all we see, we are not giving children of color the opportunity to see themselves reflected in popular media.

With all the books, dolls, dress up costumes, movies, tea party sets, and other paraphernalia Disney has created based on its princesses, it’s shameful that Tiana is the only Black princess (who spends most of the movie in the embodiment of a frog); there are no Disney princesses that are Latinx or South Asian. Looking at the Walt Disney Studios’ creative decisions even closer, there is so much more evidence that they operated under white supremacy. Behind all the magic and innocence of Cinderella’s fairy godmother and Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather, from Sleeping Beauty, was Disney’s choice to exclude characters of color and those with disabilities. Even in the more modern Toy Story movies, both of the main characters, Woody and Buzz Lightyear, are white. By mostly centering white characters, the Disney studio is sending a message to children that only white stories matter. This world-famous company needs to diversify its characters and plotlines, so that children of all backgrounds can recognize themselves in the content they consume.

Leduc, also points out that several fairy tales tend to align with the medical model of disability. Interestingly, Leduc views Cinderella’s fairy godmother transforming her clothes from that of a lowly scullery maid to that of beautiful princess as a metaphor for those who want to transform people with disabilities into what they consider “normal.” Likewise, the beast from Beauty and the Beast physically changes after receiving the affection of the person he loves. It begs the question why the beast finding happiness physically changes him, why is being “fixed” somehow a great reward for doing morally right? 

Another fascinating fact explored in the book is that only villains, such as Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty and Ursula from The Little Mermaid, can stray from society’s ideal of beauty. Only having villains be fat or differently formed says to children that being different is somehow inherently wrong. Why can’t Disney princesses be fat or disabled or old or scarred in any way? Disney princesses and other good characters should not be pigeonholed into this idea that beauty has to mean an able-bodied, cis, heterosexual, white woman. Human diversity is beautiful and needs to be more represented in the morally upright, not just evil.

On the 30th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act, Crip Camp: The Official Virtual Experience, an online workshop about different topics pertaining to the disability community, featured Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha. Ms. Piepzna-Samarasinha, an amazing, queer, disabled, femme, writer of color, wrote one of my favorite books, Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice. Why is this piece of writing so important? For one, this author has called for a change in perspective on personal care. Ms. Piepzna-Samarasinha pointed out that people with disabilities sometimes can help our friends with disabilities with grocery shopping, laundry, or medication pickups from pharmacies. Patty Berne’s principle of disability justice, interdependence, which Ms. Piepzna-Samarasinha has advocated for, is revolutionary. Instead of being dependent on able-bodied, paid, employees, members of the disabled community can rely on each other. 

Recently, students at University of Southern California (USC) have adopted this philosophy of mutual aid and created the USC Care Collective to help meet the financial needs of their classmates, especially those who are undocumented. Since students who are undocumented unfairly do not qualify for President Trump’s Covid-19 aid, they have to depend on one another (link below. Since USC’s administration failed to allocate any of its COVID-19 relief funding to those in marginalized communities, the students had no choice but to solely depended on each other. This is one important example of how disability justice could be applied in today’s world.

In another part of this extraordinary book, Ms. Piepzna-Samarasinha passionately calls for fully accessible performing spaces. The writer recalls how after being a participant in a Sins Invalid production, the theater immediately removed the wheelchair ramp. If accessibility was in the forefront of planning theatrical performances, people with disabilities could more easily be actors, costume designers, directors, set designers, and stage managers, instead of just audience members. If creative spaces were fully equipped to meet the needs of all people, regardless of ability, this would inherently give people with disabilities more opportunities to share their stories authentically. 

Ms. Piepzna-Samarasinha also notes that we need to think about accessibility in a much broader context than simply finding a wheelchair accessible theater. She urges directors and producers to also ensure that theaters consider the access needs of people who are blind, deaf, or sensitive to strong fragrances. Theaters need to provide programs in Braille, sign language interpretation, low scented environments, and quiet rooms for people who are sensitive to different sounds. When these necessary tools for access are readily available, all members of society will be able to enjoy live performances equally. This author pushes society to think about accessibility from the disability justice perspective, and this is the way of thinking we must adopt. 

Additionally, Ms. Piepzna-Samarasinha discusses the importance of healing justice. For me personally, the word healing has always had a negative connotation. This is because growing up in a mostly able-bodied town a lot of people would try to heal me of my disability, even when that was not my desire. Whether at a high school event or in the grocery store, I was constantly being told that I needed to be fixed. Having this message repeatedly being said to me as a young person made me falsely assume that my disability was an individual, and not one created by society.

However, Ms. Piepzna-Samarasinha is referring to something completely different all together.  In this brilliant book, the writer advocates for people to go through a process of healing from generational ableism, racism, or any other form of oppression someone and their ancestors may have endured. We need to heed this ingenious author’s wisdom, especially considering the imperial and genocidal history of the United States. 

https://dailytrojan.com/2020/05/26/website-raises-funds-for-students-in-need/

About a year ago, Sins Invalid held a workshop on intimate partner violence in the disability community. One of the pieces discussed was a New York Times article about Anna Stubblefield. Anna was a white teacher who helped DJ, an African-American man, who had Cerebral palsy and was nonverbal to learn an alternative form of communication. When Ms. Stubblefield admitted she had intentionally touched DJ’s private parts, she was automatically accused of and put on trial for sexual assault.  There was no question of DJ’s consent, most likely because people assumed that he was asexual. Even this assumption minimized DJ’s capability to make his own decisions about his sex life.

Another important article that was discussed during this workshop was “Disability Should Be Integral to the #MeToo Conversation.”  The #MeToo movement was supposed to be a platform for every woman to share their experiences of sexual abuse. However, the author pointed out that most of the social media posts featured “white nondisabled cis women.” Women with disabilities, women of color, trans, and non-binary people should all have an opportunity to have their truths be known. Whether someone with a disability is recounting his or her nightmare of sexual violence, or a person who is disabled, perhaps like DJ, who wants to have sex, everyone’s story should be validated.

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/04/05/magazine/the-strange-case-of-anna-stubblefield-revisited.html

https://rewire.news/article/2017/11/01/disability-integral-metoo-conversation/

                                                                                                                     

Coronavirus is creating a time of extreme loneliness for a lot of people, especially for those who live completely alone. One of my best friends, Andy Arias, who has Cerebral palsy, has been by himself in his apartment in Washington D.C. for more than 40 days. During this time of quarantine, Andy has realized the importance of his friends in LA, who are his chosen family, and he has decided to move home to us. Below is the link to Andy’s GoFundMe that we made last weekend for his birthday to help him with moving expenses. While I know this era of the coronavirus is financially challenging, I also know that one of the main tenants of disability justice is interdependence and helping each other. So, please give whatever you can.  

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-our-magical-unicorn-andy-get-home-to-la

The coronavirus is extraordinarily scary for all of us. As of April 24, 2020, there were 50,243 counted deaths in the United States from this horrible virus. A lot of people are losing their jobs as well. People with disabilities especially are frightened during these most uncertain times. Doctors are rationing masks, ventilators, and other necessary medical supplies, without prioritizing the lives of members of the disability community. It’s no wonder there is so much anxiety and fear in the world right now.

So, what can be done in such a moment of crisis? First, we can read “Half Assed Disabled Prepper Tips for Preparing for a Coronavirus Quarantine,” by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha (link below). Piepzna-Samarasinha, a writer on disability justice, offers us several helpful tips about food, sanitation, and mutual aid for surviving the coronavirus as a person with a disability. She acknowledges that some people may not have the finances to stock up on necessities and suggests alternatives. While she does offer solutions for those in need, we must also urge government officials to heed the advice of social activist, Shaun King. In an episode of his podcast, “The Breakdown,” Shaun King pressures both landlords and politicians to disregard rent and utility bill payments during this time. Between the currently high rates of unemployment and institutionalized ableism and racism that inherently create obstacles to employment, a lot of people do not have the economic resources to deal with this unprecedented state of the world. People should not be forced to choose between a home and a meal; mutual aid should not be rent money. #Nobodyisdisposable #ICUgenics

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1rIdpKgXeBHbmM3KpB5NfjEBue8YN1MbXhQ7zTOLmSyo/dit

While I realize that I have been writing a lot about inclusion and diversity lately, this post also gives a personal glimpse into one of the most empowering experiences of my life. In 2016, during my first year at UC Berkeley, I was accepted into The Vagina Monologues. For those of you who may not know, The Vagina Monologues is a performance of a series of vignettes related to the experience of being a woman, commonly coupled with original pieces written by the cast. I was lucky enough to be chosen to write an original piece about being a person with a disability and not feeling sexy. In one line, I talked about how I use to watch all those hot, steamy, sex scenes from Grey’s Anatomy, but somehow could never picture myself in the scenes because of my disability. The purpose of that line was to shed light on the fact that society believes that people with disabilities are asexual, and to challenge this faulty assumption. Being able to discuss disability and sexuality in a live theatrical production was extremely powerful.

The Vagina Monologues was an exceedingly influential time in my life in many other ways as well. This was one of the first time that I had the chance to perform live. In high school, the drama teacher did not allow me to audition for their production of “Beauty and the Beast,” because they did not want a person with a disability in the show. At UC Berkeley though, the wheelchair did not matter, and this helped greatly in my confidence to express myself honestly on stage. More importantly, through this process, I made really good friends (Jas, Ace, Devin, and Christine, to name a few.) Having friends was a new concept, because while in an all abled-bodied high school, I didn’t really have friends. Two of my other friends, Mayra and Victoria, created the most unbelievable piece about the real hardships that goes along with trying to cross the Mexican border, in order to live a life without danger in the United States. If we approach undocumented people who need to come to America with compassion, instead of throwing them in detention camps like President Trump has done, the world would be a much better place.