Gracias a mi familia Latina

Gracias Mama For my Nicaraguan roots For leaving tu lindo Managua Gracias for giving up your dream and passion as an international dancer I know I won't ever be able to give you back those experiences you had traveling around the world to perform But you've given me the world by giving up everything You left a poor Nicaragua and built a rich America for me An America where I am able to own things that you would have never been able to But most importantly passed the materialistic things you've made me rich in love and care Gracias Mama por todo lo que haz hecho por mi   Gracias Mama For my Salvadorean roots For leaving tu paiz El Salvador Gracias for leaving your beloved motherland I know you left to seek refuge and it wasn't much of a choice you had If you wouldn't have left, abuelo would have been killed I am so proud to call you mi mama As an immigrant you worked hard to be able to obtain your bachelors degree in social work And for that reason I assure you that I will be as hard working and successful as you Gracias mama por todo lo que haz hecho por mi   Gracias Mama For my Mexican roots For leaving la cuidad de Mexico Gracias for giving me the opportunity to have been born in America I don't know what it feels like to not be able to return home Because you've made a home for me that I can always return to everyday You have worked hard everyday since arriving in America Because returning back home has became impossible You've gone from job to job From working as a janitor with my Tio to babysitting to working for an airline company For you working at an airline company must feel like a tease Just like holding a lollipop to a child's mouth but not letting them have a taste I know you must dream of boarding an airplane and returning to the life you once had But instead you live day by day to help me become a successful Chicano Gracias mama por todo lo que haz hecho por mi   Gracias Abuelo For my Mexican roots For leaving tu querido Jalisco Gracias for coming to work in Pittsburgh, California You spent long days and weeks working in an oil factory that blackened your already brown skin Pay checks that went directly to Mexico to support the education of my Tia While pain struck your body throughout the night My tia was receiving a gift of knowledge that can never be repaid Gracias abuelo por todo lo que haz hecho por mi   Gracias Papa For my Mexican roots For leaving that small town in Zacatecas Gracias for risking your life to complete a dream that would have never been possible in Las Animas A town full of spirit but a town where you were the poorest of the poor Where you owned nothing more than a rubber ball to entertain yourself A town where you spent nights starving because mis abuelos has 13 mouths to feed A town where you had 17 years to learn to become a man before you left to America And from the day you crossed the border that nearly killed you Your strong Azteca skin has become toughened by American labor Labor that Americans claim has been stolen but would automatically think twice about doing Crossing the desert will be an experience I won't ever know But through your blood you've given me my brown skin and a language that endure their own challenges That day in March when you first arrived to Santa Ana you began your life as an "immigrant" An "illegal" to some but to us Mexicanos America is still ours nothing more than a barbed wire that separates us You gave up the life of a Mexicano and became a "wetback" labor worker in the States I know that day by day you miss listening to words of Cielito Lindo playing in the streets The scent of chile being made that practically gave you a coughing attack   But Papa don't think I don't notice how much you yearn to be in your tierra I see the way that you stare at the pictures that my primas from Mexico send you I see the way your eyes become glossy when you hear songs of your country I see the way your eyes become bright when you start your stories with "Mija aya en Mexico" But all I wish to say is Gracias Papa por todo lo que haz hecho por mi

This poem is about: 
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