I shudder as my foot is shaken from the sweet dreams I endured as I slept
A beautiful, peaceful, loving Mexican American girl waking up to her hardworking father’s sweet words “Wake up Baby”
I trudge to my parent’s room where my tired mother says sweetly “Good Morning Honey” while I groan groggily like I’ve done and heard so many times before, going through the same routine weekend after weekend
My sister slips on her softball uniform that plainly reads “Bandits”. While the rest of my family goes on with their business
I wonder, does she see her real uniform?
The one that is more complex and took centuries to build up to be what it is today?
The one that separates her from so many others?
Her beautiful copper skin that glistens with her every move, her long curly brown Mexican hair that she so carelessly puts into a bun that was passed down with love and care from my father’s side, or her big, brown eyes that were passed down to her from my wise grandparents who got them from their grandparents and so on
No she doesn’t know
When we look in the mirror we see nothing but a reflection but underneath our skin our DNA sits leading us to the past that brought me to where I am today
I realize that I am where I am because of my ancestry
They worked so hard to come to an unknown country and settle my roots in the fertilized soil and plant our tree of hope and history
I look one more time in the mirror and see my wavy hair that was passed down from my mother’s family and see my past lie in front of me
My mother’s childhood playing in front of me like a cinema flick to a simple symphony of all her favorite childhood songs
I look at my uniform more closely this time grateful and full of pride, raise my head up high happy to be the one wearing this skilled uniform and walk out the door, glowing knowing I’m on a winning team that has so many more wins headed our way