A Love Letter to the Queen of Tejano
⨠The First Voice I Ever Borrowed
Selena Quintanilla was murdered in 1995, and even though I never got to witness her rise in real time, my parents were fans, and in that very âkids absorb music like oxygenâ way, I grew up with her English album playing through our living room speakers. Dreaming of You, I Could Fall in Loveâthose songs were stitched into my childhood before I even understood heartbreak.
I stole a Selena hat from my dad once. (Borrowed? Permanently adopted? Semantics.) That hat felt like a portalâlike a way for me, a little girl who knew nothing about Tejano music or Texas or the weight of stardom, to feel connected to someone powerful and feminine and deeply beloved.
She had this way of making you feel like she was singing with you, not at you. Even when you didnât know the words yet.
đ¤ The Echoes We Keep
Middle school memories are mostly chaos, but I have one thatâs crystal clear: a girl standing on the talent show stage, singing Dreaming of You with shaky hands and way too much bravery for the seventh-grade audience watching her.
And the thing wasâevery girl in that room knew that song. We werenât Tejano. We werenât Latina. We werenât from Texas.
But Selena?
She was universal.
That moment was when I realized her voice outlived her body by a longshot. Some spirits truly donât stay gone.
đŹ Selena: The Movie We All Wore Out
Iâve watched the 1997 film starring Jennifer Lopez about a million times. It was the original âthis VHS is worn to hell and backâ kind of movie in my house.
J.Lo didnât just play Selenaâshe embodied her.
I remember crying at scenes I already knew by heart, because even reenacted grief can hit like a truck when the story behind it was real.
The Netflix series, on the other handâŚI liked it, but it still felt like a cash grab for her family. A lot of critics pointed out that the early episodes centered more on her father Abraham and the rest of the Quintanilla family than on Selena herself, which is probably why it didnât land as powerfully as the movie.
đ The Book Iâm Saving for the Right Moment
I bought the memoir by Chris PerezâSelenaâs husbandâbut then I moved and it ended up packed away in storage. Itâs waiting for me, and I know reading it will hit differently when I finally unbox it.
Dave has a Selena vinyl he plays for the girls, and they dance to it in the living room. Itâs one of those surprisingly tender parenting moments that makes me weirdly grateful music can outlive everything else.
đş The Legacy: More Than Music
Letâs talk historyâbecause Selena earned every crown people try to retroactively place on her head.
- Queen of Tejano Music, the most influential Tejano artist ever.
- Her English crossover album, Dreaming of You, shattered Billboard records after her death.
- She blended cultures effortlesslyâSpanish and English, cumbia and pop, tradition and rebellion.
- She designed her own tour outfits and opened two boutiques.
Her life was short, but her impact was generational.
đš Como La Flor: Honoring Her Now
The Como La Flor Festivalâheld in Corpus Christiâhonors her life, music, and the community she lifted. Fans show up dressed in purple, red lipstick on, singing at the top of their lungs like sheâs still on stage.
There are Selena mural tours across Texas, tribute concerts, candlelit vigils, pop-up art shows, drag performances, fashion recreations, and endless fans who treat her songs like liturgy.
Even here, miles from where she lived, there are ways to honor her:
- blasting Bidi Bidi Bom Bom in the car
- introducing her music to our kids
- wearing her red-lip energy when we need courage
- supporting Latina artists walking the path she carved
- remembering the woman she was, not just the tragedy
Selena made joy look powerful.
Selena made softness look strong.
Selena made being fully yourself look like a revolution.
⨠Final Notes
Selena Quintanilla didnât just leave music behindâshe left a feeling.
A warmth.
A sparkle.
A reminder that life can be brutally short but beautifully loud.
And maybe thatâs why sheâs still hereâwoven into the soundtrack of girls like me, raised in the echo of her voice.
She wasnât just a singer.
She was a light.
And lights like that donât go out.
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