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Our Natives and The Method of Finishing Them
Shed the skin of the colonizer As if it is not also mine As if the blood coursing through me did not also pool along the legs of Malintze
Born in classic white suburbia, The most American Dream of cities. Gifted with white picket fences, Highly rated schools, And a Mexican population of 3.2%.
Father as I prepare to walk this stage I wrote another poem for you I must admit, I too have been instutionlized This cap and gown symbolize the assimilation process being complete
Immigrants shipped into the American Dream plundered of their culture left as empty shells crushed by greedy hands tossed into melting pots molded back into shells carrying America within.
If, I had only awakened only to see the one I have been so desperately and passionately Been waiting to embrace, To let known as it has always seen Not as it has always been perceived
They claimed that it was their destiny to move out west, But people were already living there. They claimed that the Indians were hostile savages who should be civilized.
I cant stand missionaries No let me rephrase that I cant stand the idea of it Cultural oppression at its finest The idea that you are right And therefore everything else is wrong
Tell them it’s not me. Tell them it’s not me anymore. Tell them I’m not quiet, That I’m not shy, That I’m the one they should adore. Tell them they don’t know.
land of the free, home of the brave forced to conform forget your culture we'll beat the indian out of you conform, be like us or humiliated shunned unaccepted be like us or get out