I haven鈥檛 been sleeping well lately. I can鈥檛 seem to make it through the night without some strange dream clawing at my psyche.

I climb out of bed and try to settle myself again with a book or an hour of scrolling through Instagram. I know that it doesn鈥檛 really help, but it comforts me.

Sometimes I can hear my daughter shifting in her room, a sleepy momma slipping from beneath her door. She can sense me, my little werewolf, I joke to myself. Her favorite book to pull from my shelf is . I haven鈥檛 read it yet; I bought it years ago because someone said it reminded them of me. Maybe she and the Universe are conspiring to get me to pick it up.

Maybe I will; I do a lot of things because she wills me to somehow.

From day to day, parenting is painfully mundane. It鈥檚 a lot of routine and repetition; the same games, the same books, the same lessons. My iPhone has become my constant companion, ready to entertain me at any moment my daughter might happen to look away. Despite reading multiple articles on the subject, I recently decided to give up checking my phone while I鈥檓 with her based on her behavior鈥攏ot outbursts or tantrums, only her own growing desire to whittle away her hours in front of a screen.

It鈥檚 been a difficult sacrifice to make, putting my phone away while I鈥檓 with her, and I have yet to make it through a day successfully. My social media accounts do more than keep my boredom at bay; they help me to feel involved in the outside world, keep me from getting too lonely. They also overwhelm me, distracting me with their content long after I鈥檝e put my phone down. And, I鈥檝e realized, they keep me from facing the darkest parts of myself.

I don鈥檛 have very nice things to say, or rather think. I didn鈥檛 grow up in a home dripping with affection鈥攆or anyone, really. My family taught me how to protect and defend myself; my step-father would quiz me daily about what I noticed on my walk home from elementary school.

You always, always have to be aware of your surroundings,聽his voice echoes when I find myself getting too familiar with my environment.

My mother isn鈥檛 an unkind woman, but one for whom things, people, are rarely good or good enough. Her nature comes easily to me鈥攎y inheritance, maybe.

When I鈥檓 online, it鈥檚 easy for me to direct my hatred at unseen others: strangers who add antagonizing comments to the posts of friends, old high school classmates gleefully announcing their Go Fund Me donations toward Trump鈥檚 wall. I project my doubts onto other artists who are just starting out, and worst of all, I pour out my bitterness over the artists who are succeeding and who I deem lesser than me. I count these amongst my ugliest thoughts.

Without my digital scapegoats, my vitriol has the clearest path to its true target: me. The first thought that popped into my head the day that I started my screen-free experiment was, Boy, you鈥檙e a shitty mom. It was closely followed by its sibling thoughts about my appearance, my work ethic, my abilities, the invalidity of my dreams. There was no real reason for these thoughts, nothing in the moment to motivate them to come. They don鈥檛 really need a reason, they live with me, are a part of me. They鈥檝e just been waiting for a quiet moment to speak.

鈥淲ithout my digital scapegoats, my vitriol has the clearest path to its true target: me.鈥�

If my time at 天美视频 taught me anything, it鈥檚 that all of us feel this way. Some more than others, but all of us still. It鈥檚 part of what it means to be human in this world. We all have shortcomings, doubts, and fears, and they are ready to contend with us. Some have merit and some don鈥檛, but we will never be able to distinguish what鈥檚 true from what isn鈥檛 unless we face the parts of ourselves that bring us the most shame. There鈥檚 no healing, no transformation without reflection. It can be painful and we may not be ready at any given point; it could take years, a lifetime even. But we have to be aware that our self-contempt paints an incomplete picture of who we are.

I pride myself on being a woman with a keen sense of clarity about who I am, but I鈥檝e lived most of my life unable to see my own goodness. I鈥檝e needed to hear about it from other people. Even then, I found a way to disseminate their words, convincing myself that their view of me was obscured. But it鈥檚 time to take off my own blinders, to seek out the goodness others have been telling me is there on my own.

Those negative thoughts are less intimidating when I鈥檓 able to see myself more clearly. When partnered with a more benevolent self-perspective, they can lead me into compassion and empathy, instead of shame and self-hatred.

This too is part of what it means to be human in this world: the amalgamation of the darkness and the light inside of us. They don鈥檛 have to be at war with one another, they can live symbiotically.

I used to think that living a good life meant following this rigid moral code that God had prescribed for us, one in which there was no place for darkness鈥攐ften considered 鈥渋mpurity鈥� or 鈥渟in.鈥� But I鈥檝e come to believe that living a good life means becoming more human, softer, more given to making mistakes. More able to learn from them, too.

This paradigm shift is right on time. I can never teach my little werewolf how to be fully human until I learn how to be one myself.

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What鈥檚 your Integrative Project all about?

I鈥檝e spent a lot of time trying to sort out my theological beliefs. I grew up with a very specific and robust New Mexican Catholic-type of spirituality, only to have it dismantled in my early twenties in favor of a more homogenous, evangelical faith. I wrestled with the shame of losing what felt like a vital part of my identity in order to try to fit into a place where I really didn鈥檛 belong.

Much of my work at 天美视频 has been around racial inclusion and hospitality to the stranger. I have sought to make sense of my own experience as a Millennial Latina woman, considering ways in which I have assimilated to the American culture and also considering specific Latin American cultural nuances, which will always be a part of me.

My Integrative Project is broken into two parts: a series of paintings in which I re-imagine certain women from the Bible through my own cultural and theological lens, and a paper titled 鈥淢ujerista: The New Wave鈥� in which I write about the ways in which Mujerista theology has empowered and given voice to millennial Latino and Latina Americans like myself, but also where it has fallen just short of our experience as second, third, fourth generation Americans who feel a sense of displacement and exile within American culture, primarily theologically. Though the project is titled 鈥淢ujerista,鈥� it is not focused solely on the experiences of Latina women, but also Latino men, making it more an example of Latino/a theology. I chose the title as a reflection of my personal experience and self-identification.

Painting by Cecilia Romero.

Why is this project so important to you personally?

This work comes out of my self-reflection, trying to figure out who I am鈥攚hich is the work of this school. It鈥檚 also important to me because it feels like something outside of myself. The Latino/a theological voice, as well as the voices from other racial groups, is still very much on the fringes. But as the demographics of our country are changing, these theologies can鈥檛 be on the fringes anymore, not if we want the church to be a place that reflects the diversity of the Kingdom.

Personally, I want young Latino/a theologians to have something to engage with. I thought about my brother a lot while working on this project. He鈥檚 nine years younger than me and just starting at a Christian college. I want him to have something familiar鈥攕omething that I felt like I was missing at that age.

What are some of the challenges you faced developing your work?

I felt like I needed to cover all the bases鈥攔acism, immigration, assimilation. They all influence the way I am in the world and how people see me, but that wasn鈥檛 the heart of the project. I鈥檓 third generation American; my family is both assimilated and not. We鈥檙e not one thing or the other. I have different values than someone in Mexico, but they鈥檙e also different from the perceived 鈥渟tandard American family.鈥�

That sounds like a lonely place to be.

It鈥檚 not that I don鈥檛 belong anywhere. It鈥檚 that there鈥檚 this third category that we, I mean Latino/as from backgrounds similar to my own, are not considering. We feel displaced. We don鈥檛 know where we belong. We still experience racism and oppression, but we also feel disconnected from our roots鈥攎any of us have lost our language, our faith communities, our traditions, etc.鈥攁nd there鈥檚 a lot of shame attached to that. But because of our American heritage and privilege, we also have power to fight for people who don鈥檛 have advocates. This project is something of a call. This is who we are, particularly millennial Latino/as. We need to name that, own it, and do what we can with it.

How was the process of trying to express all this through your project?

It鈥檚 been long. As students are writing the Integrative Projects, we look back over all our time here. I鈥檝e been writing these papers since my first year, and none of it is tidy鈥擨鈥檝e been all over the map. But knowing that God cares about diversity has driven me and inspired me. That seems like such a simple idea, but it鈥檚 something we don鈥檛 really talk about: Diversity is a reflection of God and we need it to have a space as disciples. The art piece has been really helpful in that. As I鈥檝e reflected on these women鈥擬ary, the woman caught in adultery, and 鈥渢alitha cum鈥濃�攖hrough my mujerista lens, it鈥檚 helped me to ground my project theologically.

If you鈥檙e intrigued by what you read, we invite you to join us for this year鈥檚 presentations, and .

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