A week ago I shared with you a poem I wrote in my graduate school class. We're learning a lot about place, voice and travel in general so I wanted to share another poem. This piece compliments the En Mi Pais poem so enjoy!
In my country
In my country...wait a minute, I don't even know where that is.
Jersey born to Colombian padres, people already pigeon hold me
In my country, tourists turn to citizens, undocumented turn away
and I'm left with a sense of not knowing where I came from.
In my country, the schools are biased depending on the color of
your skin. White or black, unfortunately it's all what people see.
In my country, I have to yell because people are so
inconsiderate. Why can't you be more like them? Wait...who's them?
In my country, the West Coast has a hidden war with
the East Coast. Laid back vs. hustle and bustle.
In my country, fighting to survive in corporate America
seems more important than family. Weird...I don't like family.
In my country I get called Latino.
In their country I get called Gringo.