Mostly because of Julianne Moore's performance, her ability to brilliantly camouflage between strength and powerlessness in order to reveal honest layers of the human experience, Still Alice was one of the most touching and inspiring films I've seen in my life. It's more than about someone struggling with early-onset Alzheimers, though how they share that story with painful honesty, absent of shallow sentimentality is admirable. While watching this film, and days after, I was reminded of the fragility and strengths of life, memories, the dynamics involving those we love and that it's okay that they're not always perfect, and the relationship we create between ourselves and our dreams or endeavors. And it's not surprising this film was so well directed, given the life challenges in the directors' own lives. As hard as it is to watch this film, I highly recommend it, it's an important and beautiful one.
Wrenching. Not only too young, I still don't understand why people as beautiful as this, the rare few like Michele Serros, don't live forever. Because the next young aspiring writer inspired by activism, ocean waves and not growing up on the East Side, will need someone to identify with. Always. Not all Chicanas identify with the three B's, but many of us identify with being that "medium brown girl," the one who even in our 30's is still asked, "But your mom's white, right?" Over and over and over again. Serros new that eventually you just have to write about it, and always write something that will help you laugh it off. But not before tears, and right now isn't funny.
Long after gentrification has run its course, and the lines between these diverse Chicana/o & Latina/o So Cal communities are painstakingly blurred, Chicana Falsa and Other Stories of Death Identity and Oxnard, How to be a Chicana Role Model, Honey Blonde Chica, and ¡Scandalosa! will all be considered history books. Poignant, funny, honest, painful, brilliant history books. Or rather, herstory books. But for now, those of us multi-generationed California writers, who happen to be Chicana and still taking Spanish-language courses the hard way, have work to do. Michele Serros paved the way for us, speaking our language, dancing in our kind of chanclas, and making us laugh from a view atop 12-foot waves. I don't know if her work is taught in high schools, I hope it is. I'm inspired to return to school, to get back out there to teach, to teach her work, to help inspire so many of LA's medium brown girls that need some Michele Serros in their lives. Thank you Michele.
Writer Michele Serros dies at 48
by David L Ulin, LA Times