One aspect of my life that I constantly think about is being a Mexicana.

I love my culture, my language, my customs.

But our society has shaped people into believing that different is bad

and that if we are not a certain way, we don’t matter.  

All over the media, I see my people getting discriminated, humiliated, dehumanized,

all for just speaking and looking a different way.

Our society portrays us,

masks us,

and completely paints over who we really are,

“inferior”, “dumb”,”lazy”, is what is usually thought about us

“Oh, you’re Mexican?” is dropped daily with a dirty look.

The rough and bumpy calluses on my parents hands,

They bleed with the struggles they faced to get to “the land of the free”.

Breaking and torturing themselves

Just to be told we aren’t important.

To be simply dissolved like bath bombs in water

That we don’t exist

That we are bad

We are on a movie

And our society has the remote in their hand, constantly muting us

Just because we don’t fit their “image”

But I will not let it get to me,

I’m a pale, proud, perseverant Latina.

And my people will strut our nopal en la frente with pride and passion

We will not allow for us to be censored

Our rolled r’s will break free

Like doves in tightly packed cages escaping

They will fill up the empty air

And fly free

We shall be heard

Because what we say matters.