Freedom of a Child / Angelica Blanco

Freedom of a Child


By Angelica Blanco

I see myself - a piece of my identity - in my sister. In this photo, her facial expressions look sassy, and you can read what she is thinking, like she is a tad bit annoyed, frustrated and impatient. At that moment, my dad had taken my sisters and me to the bank, and since he was taking a while, she was fussing that she wanted to go home because she was bored and sick of waiting. I, on the other hand, did not want to say anything so as not to frustrate my dad. She is just a little kid and blurts everything she feels. She is so honest with her emotions. The intensity of the bright blue color of her shirt and how she is positioned right in the middle of the image make it seem like she is the only one in the room, and that is exactly how you feel as a child - you want everything and all eyes on you. As I have gotten older, I have learned to suppress my feelings or things I want to say aloud, in fear of disappointing anyone. This is unlike children who have the freedom to say anything that is on their mind and are truly their authentic selves. And that is what I see in my sister, a piece of myself that wishes to freely say anything. For Dayanara, my sister, says the things I cannot say.