I was born Latina

By Anna Lopez ’19

 

I was born Latina.

You don’t spend several years in a Latin country and suddenly you’re basically Latinx.

I was born Latina.

Meaning I spent my entire life watching TV and seeing no one that looked like me.

I was born Latina.

My parents need me to translate, and write emails for them.

I was born Latina.

My family insults me saying I’m not “Latina enough” because my Spanish isn’t perfect and I don’t like Dominican food and I go to Andover.

I was born Latina.

My hair curlier than most, curly enough to stand out in a crowd. Now ruined from years of straightening because straight was pretty.

I was born Latina.

My skin a little too dark. My legs a little too hairy.

I was born Latina.

I walk into a space and try and find everyone who looks like me and always seem to come up short.

I was born Latina.

I walk into the lunchroom and look more like the workers than my classmates.

I was born Latina.

I’m a statistic, a prize to the school to prove there’s diversity.

I was born Latina.

I don’t get to visit the Dominican Republic and suddenly become so cultured and identify with the ethnicity and then get to turn it off when Donald Trump calls all Mexicans rapists, and threatens deportation.

I was born Latina.

And you have no fucking right to think this is some kind of costume you get to pick up and put down to your pleasing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: