Sunday, April 1, 2012


There're three churches in front n around me, and from my window I get to see the interesting segregated let outs in all their pomp n circumstance. This time the let outs were interrupted by a large group of hermanas/some hombres with their children, all carrying palmas, as in palm sunday. Usually the church tribes keep to themselves or walk around each other/not acknowledge each other. Dominican/Mexican catholics vibe on one side of the street. Pentecostals on the other side, and African Baptists on the Ave. And always the interesting segregated colors. But this time palmas were being waved across religious and racial lines, waving them at each other and for each other. Passing cars slowed down to pick up their palmas. A female bus driver got hers too. And her smile made me smile. The crowds' smiles made me smile. The creepy bruh who usually stands at the corner bodega lookin for everything but himself smiled, and I smiled with him and for him.

Now, how do we translate all that to daquan and primo without making them feel more disillusioned than they already are?

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