In respone to Walt Whitman, Langston Hughes, and Julia Alvarez:
I, too, sing America,
I am westernized over my Mexican heritage.
I wonder why my school never let me speak my first language when it was the best and most polite way I could respond.
"Dahlia" "Mande, What, I mean what?" "Don't say 'what' say excuse me."
As the days go on I hear my family speak every word of the language I forgot so eloquently when I understand but can't repeat or rebut
I see the traditions that I knew but never had and
I wish I could be who I'm meant to but
I cry because I fear that seventeen years late is overdue.
I hope for you, like me, at the private school, to never lose your lineage as I did because America is built on diversity and
I, too, am obviously American
I, too, am the soul of the nation.
I am the protector, the guardian, la angel of the souls who lost what I did.
I feel people's disappointment in me and their lack of belief
"Wow are you really Mexican? You look and dress and sound white and you could totally pass for white!"
I pledge my passions to the lost ones like me and
I help them remember them.
I worry another girl will lose what I lost but
I will contribute my devotion to her and
I will celebrate when she doesn't because I will have hope that maybe one day I'll be able to find it deep inside of me too.
I dream of the day I will find who I am, show it tried and true and people will see me for me because
I, too, am America and tomorrow, next week, and forever, they too will see how beautiful I am.