i am my grandmother’s small and plump tears when she thinks of her pueblo. i am my mother’s broken english as she greets the cashier. i am my sister’s abandoned dreams, her acceptance letter is etched into my palm. i am my brother’s path to citizenship along with all the photographic evidence. i am my brother in law’s laughter when he speaks to the nephew he has never met. i am the ever constant fear of being denied a home. i am the secrets carried on backs through miles and miles of desert. i am the pan dulce on sunday mornings. i am the mole and carnitas at birthday parties. i am the thick hair on arms. i am the first bite of a burger king hamburger after years of poverty. i am the first item of clothing bought at a kmart after years of patching up old clothes.
so how dare you think less of me? you do not know what i carry. all this pain. all this joy. all this strength.
i am chicana. the bridge between two worlds. i will not be burned down.
un producto de una familia mexicana que vino a un país lejano por un futuro.