Identity Crises

Esperanza lying on a bed, playing guitar

My brown is not Brazilian brown. In fact, my brown is not even brown here. I am considered white with a foreign tan, and every day that tan is fading as fall slips into winter. I realized I was white for the first time while eating dinner with a local friend, when she asked me if I identified as ‘Latina’.

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Engolindo Sapos

Protest in center of Rio after death of Marielle Franco

As I begin to write this I imagine what this post would have looked like if the murder had not happened. I would have probably focused on writing about the silly activities underclassmen are subjected to during the first weeks of college–like using buckets as backpacks. I might have written about the oddities of young Brazilians’ vernacular, where every sentence

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