The _______ Truth

I'm Hispanic, Indian, Italian, French, Caucasian
and anything else that has mixed in my genes.
I think.
But I do know I'm a Mexican.
A Mexican American.
And though my culture is mixed,
Though I can't speak Spanish,
and my skin is light,
I am an Hispanic.

Yet, true Mexicans say I ain’t.
because I can't talk like they do,
because my skin isn't dark enough,
because I don't completely eat like they do,
and because I'm not blessed enough to know what part of Mexico my ancestors lived in
or others still reside.

Truth, I am more an American than a Mexican.
There are still ties to my past through family members
but I’ve lived here all my life;
just like my mother.

But I'm still a Mexican.
And I know this because I get hurtful stares,
Because I get stop in stores, not just because I'm a teen,
And because for most of my life I’ve know racist words.

I'm not a Mexican?
You can talk Spanish purposely so I can't understand you.
You can look at me funny,
or even hatefully.
You can think that I don't understand what racism is because my skin,

But while your being hurtful, stating that I’m not a Mexican,
I have to deal will the stares and words
Because I am Hispanic.
And just because my skin isn't as dark as yours doesn't make me white
and They know it.

But I thank you, some of you, my kind, for being racist or prejudges or whatever,
Because since I can expect such behavior from you.
The shit I get from others doesn't seem so bad.

poem © by Lin M.L.

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