caramel tinted skin, too dark to be white, too light to be brown. deep colored eyes, long hair, freckle faced, one of those swirly babies. maybe an accident from the night two races fucked into one. a daughter of a border hopper, daughter of a house owner on main street america. i’m asked if i’m split tongue, asked “you’re white?” listening to the brown girls call me gringa, the white girls call me wetback. told i sound ghetto when i talk, but somehow still sound too proper when i pronounce my words. my latina friends call me cracker, call me bleached mexican. my white friends call me beaner, ask me to translate words from english to spanish. some kids call me coyote, a mess of a mutt, too impure to be one or the other. i am the oppressed and the oppressor, the kid from the immigrant, the kid from the citizen, told i don’t look like my light skinned mom, i don’t look like my dark skinned dad.
I’VE GOT BROWN EYES, CARAMEL COMPLEXION, A TONGUE DRESSED IN SPANISH ACCENT, WORDS PRONOUNCED STRONGLY, HAIR IN BRAIDS, SWEAT ON MY BACK. I’VE GOT A MOM WHO’S WHITE, A DAD WHO’S BROWN. I’M A CHILD OF A LOVE THAT SAW MORE THAN RACE, BUT SOMEHOW I’M LOOKED AT LIKE A CONFUSION, A PROBLEM, A MESS. I AM MIXED BLOOD, MIXED RACE, MIXED SOMEHOW GOT CAUGHT UP AND MEANT MUTT, COYOTE, GRINGA, SPIC, CRACKER, SWIRLY, IMPURE, UNDEFINED, UNIDENTIFIED.
i am flesh and bones made from latin descent, made from german hands, touched by the mexican dirt covered thumbs that planted me in a white skinned belly, kissed by dark lips, i was raised by two colors that made me into one. i am blood from both races, born to be more than just solitary. i am fine with not being defined. because beauty can’t be defined by one set standard when there’s so much diversity in this world. just like my blood, i am beautiful, dressed in two’s, beautiful by being different.