For Jocelynn. We should have covered your fear with love.

In tribute to Jocelynn Rojo Carranza, an 11-year-old girl who died from suicide after enduring relentless bullying about her immigrant parents, and being threatened with their deportation.

Hidden Voices is my love letter to the best of us—the children. It is born from the grief and frustration, as we witness the voices of children & women silenced and their lives threatened daily. This is for them — a place to hear their voices and tell their stories. Thank you for reading and honoring the lives of children as you do so.

Please feel free to become a paying subscriber. A portion of the proceeds will go towards a nonprofit I am building to help children use writing and art as a personal outlet and a tool for activism on child justice issues.

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Can you see her?

That round face
with almond-shaped eyes
and the half-moon smile
that only came out to play
when she felt loved

Can you see her
although she is no longer with us
in the land of the living?

She has become our story,
The story of this land
Tremendous and tragic
A quiet clarion call
to a world that forgets
what selfish decisions do
to young hearts,
and sensitive souls.

Hoping to become a gymnast,

Now halted
when the words had become too much —

too loud
too often

So today is the end,
she whispered to herself.

Yet there would still be
five, four, three, two
days until
that fateful February day
when she left us
too soon
because we left her
too alone.

Terrorized

for her parents’ pain
of leaving their homeland
and their history
to change her story

building a future
out of empty pockets
and shaky dreams
curated just for her.

But now, the dream has disappeared.

We can only see her
within the tears and anguish
of her mother’s face
who has now cried
almost as much
as she has loved

We see her transform through her tears
to the long line of women
who have had to share
their child’s lifeless body as
a testament to the unending terror that
humans can unleash on one another

How she had to endure this world,

And it’s hate
It is inconceivable,
unbearable
unimaginable,
and yet her mother lends her life to us
a gift incomparable,
where we can see
what hate does,
what division can perpetrate.
and how innocence can be strangled
by lies and ignorance.

She didn’t share

how she wrapped her pain within herself
protecting parents,
battling thoughts
unleashed upon her
creating a horrific world
where she would be forced to exist
without mama and papa

A nightmare that she could never
live through
a hell almost as excruciating
as what she was living each day,
being ridiculed
for her heritage,
for her bravery,
for her duality
tiptoeing courageously on the line
between two worlds,
that we
the children of immigrants,
masterfully navigate
every minute,
every moment,
of our lives.

Olive skin,

surrounded by jet-black hair,
Covering the load that she carried,
that she should have never
had to touch.
Slowly breaking her to pieces
Shattered all over us

Because we didn’t see the signs
We ignored her isolation
Normalized her persecution
Kids will be kids, right?
Sitting silent as it runs amok
throughout our schools
and our land,
And now we live in
the uncomfortable silence
listening for her voice
that is no more.

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“You were born precious, and the world should have made room for you.”
— Lucille Clifton

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And this is how you break

a community’s future
a family’s dream
a mother’s heart
who did not imagine losing
her miracle—
fragile and precious.

And when she gave her to us
we were supposed to
hold her,
remembering she was gentle and soft,
and needed our constant love

But when we take our eyes away
hatred moves quickly
ready to slither in,
and consume.

So, it took her breath away,
And now we must let her life take ours.
We stop breathing,
so we can listen and
learn fully
what we have lost

We now see her wonder

For so long, she waited,
for her protectors
For all of us to remind her
that there was nothing to fear,
that we would cover her,
as a community,
as a country,
and as a culture
of love.

Can you see her now?

May her face
let us never forget
the lives for whom
we must fight
for
ever.

So never again.

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You can learn more about Jocelynn’s story by clicking HERE.