Adelante Mujer and Kids Rights
In the car, knowing I was in for it, I waited in the back seat. I knew Aunt Ernestine, one of my mother’s oldest friends was no protection from the onslaught—momma would had taken me down in front of her comadres and with their blessing. I waited, but during the two hour car ride back to Chicago, nothing was said about my outburst. In a way I suspect my mother was secretly proud that my little speech seemed well constructed—that I had demonstrated some interest in what she was doing. All of us were children dragged along in the rushing shove of the movement, with absolutely no inclination towards what our iconic parents had taken on. They were public people--in the news every other day, at rallies, meetings, challenging the status quo, criticized by community, family, friends. We were none of those things, living through pubescent and teenage years when the last thing you want to be is noticed, much less a rebel.
