It was the late ‘80s and there I was, a quirky, bi-racial kid (half Mexican and European Jewish), living in a predominantly Latino community in the inner-city of Los Angeles. If I was not hiding in the containment of my own bedroom, reading whatever book I could get my tiny hands on, I was probably dancing to the tunes of pop-icon Madonna, the disturbingly cool new wave sensation, The Cure or bobbing my head, thinking I was hard to N.W.A. I was reclusive at times, observing and taking mental notes of adult conversations and boy’s and girl’s playground foolery. But being of mixed decent was not easy, especially at a private Catholic school where one troublemaker- who shall remain anonymous- picked-up a hobby that involved daily taunts and racial slurs. I was taught to “turn the other cheek” and so, for most of my early adolescent years, I did.

However, instead of completely internalizing or displacing my emotions negatively, I grew fond of the idea of helping others. In some odd way, his ignorance encouraged me to learn about those marginalized and exploited in society. And through these inquiries, I began to recognize how social and cultural movements arose and shifted throughout society. The ‘cholo’ across the street wasn’t just a nameless gangster; he had a past and a veritable impetus in living the ‘street life.’ And the punk kids, who walked in droves, baring band aide, tight pants and embellished jackets-patched and pinned to suffocation- were cultivating musical and fashion trends that would soon be commodified. Those back-yard flyer parties- synonymous to the ‘90s party scene- helped a burgeoning culture known as underground hip hop flourish. MCs, DJs and graffiti artists utilized their minimal resources and added color to the grey streets of my community. Whether it music, fashion or politics, I find these cultural developments often intersected and were parallel of each other.

Funny how early experiences can shape who you become as an adult. And though, at times I must admit, I am confused as ever, I find solace, strength, and faith in humanity. Continuing on through the years, my involvement as a human rights activist challenged me to examine my own misgivings. But through each testimony, I have gained a bit of knowledge.

In this column, “The Lost Traveller,” I will research varying cultural dimensions, ones that inspired me as a young adult and those that continue to do so in the present. In reference to the “coming of age” novel, The Lost Traveller,by Antonia White, I often find myself wandering, uncertain and open to the unimaginable. As a “lost traveler,” I am still searching for answers, while openly listening and engaging with others. And equally inspired by the late Frida Kahlo, I may stumble at times and stray off path, but I will continuously try and remain grounded in exploring the truth.

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To see more from Sarah, visit http://evilmonito.com/author/sarah

Published on 1 February 2010 | 2 |