I don't know if Mari remembers this poem she wrote, but I feel like she'll need a healthy reminder to get her through this week. We'll be in the sun real soon, boog. And I love you!
I Am
by Mari
by Mari
I am from the hopes of an immigrant family
struggling to find purpose in the deception of the land of opportunity
I am from the tears of poverty and
the joys of an urban childhood
I am from the home of the latch-key kids
forced to grow up way before our time
I am from plastic covered couches and tacky curtains
I am from the vibrant rhythms of merengue and the sultry passionate bachata
I am from the city that never sleeps,
where people are too rushed to look each other in the eye,
where the subway system is as complex as the cultural makeup of the neighborhoods and barrios
I am from Salami Induveca, platanos and Tang Mango
I am from the hand-me-down clothing that my sister once wore proudly and I wore grudgingly
I am from the communal Bedford Stuyvesant Head Start, the Afrocentric PS 3, the culturally resistant Big Tree Elementary, the cultural mixing bowl Ben Franklin School 13, the rigorous and utopic Townsend Harris High and the "open doors, open hearts, open minds" of Cornell University
I am my mother's daughter, my apple of my grandpa's eye, the pride of my older sister
I am the great Dominican hope, the ticket to greater success
The "smart" one
I am from a sheltered past that forced me to break free
I am from a warm church pew where I was taught to love, serve and give my all to worthwhile causes
I am from a double consciousness- an awareness of the American privilege afforded me yet a need to reaffirm the culture that is smeared across my face, in my hips, in my speech- It permeates all that i am
I am from a place of utter complexity and desired simplicity
I am from so many places and so many things
I am they and they are I
struggling to find purpose in the deception of the land of opportunity
I am from the tears of poverty and
the joys of an urban childhood
I am from the home of the latch-key kids
forced to grow up way before our time
I am from plastic covered couches and tacky curtains
I am from the vibrant rhythms of merengue and the sultry passionate bachata
I am from the city that never sleeps,
where people are too rushed to look each other in the eye,
where the subway system is as complex as the cultural makeup of the neighborhoods and barrios
I am from Salami Induveca, platanos and Tang Mango
I am from the hand-me-down clothing that my sister once wore proudly and I wore grudgingly
I am from the communal Bedford Stuyvesant Head Start, the Afrocentric PS 3, the culturally resistant Big Tree Elementary, the cultural mixing bowl Ben Franklin School 13, the rigorous and utopic Townsend Harris High and the "open doors, open hearts, open minds" of Cornell University
I am my mother's daughter, my apple of my grandpa's eye, the pride of my older sister
I am the great Dominican hope, the ticket to greater success
The "smart" one
I am from a sheltered past that forced me to break free
I am from a warm church pew where I was taught to love, serve and give my all to worthwhile causes
I am from a double consciousness- an awareness of the American privilege afforded me yet a need to reaffirm the culture that is smeared across my face, in my hips, in my speech- It permeates all that i am
I am from a place of utter complexity and desired simplicity
I am from so many places and so many things
I am they and they are I
*smooches...eager to get #SisterSummer2013 started*
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just me & my Boogs causing trouble all over the south!
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