The curls of her hair
a mystery we could never find the end of
with various ringlets
creating a spongy wall around her head.
My black mother
has a hard time admitting she's different from others.
Has a hard time admitting her hair can never be compared to others
no matter how many times they swear
they know how to deal with the enigma of hair,
she will always end up in square one.
Always end up pretending her traits aren't of importance to our community.
She will erase her culture to satisfy a white society.
She is hatred wrapped up in one.
She is a white man's nightmare
without a single inch of awareness.
She is a black women
who wipes out her heritage in favor of fitting in.
She is afrolatina
except she classifies herself latina, period.
She squashes her past
like her father did his.
Not a single male figure in her life
who could blame her
for wanting to believe she's like the rest.
She is afraid to be proud of her father's side.
She never had a family to honor her blackness,
never had any traditions,
never had any acceptance.
Put the afro con latina and you get a disrespected woman.