Hispanish?

Hispanish?

Mis people are misunderstood

Mis people are misunderstood

My jente are malentendido

How can you stand there, I mean, sit there and tell me

That if I look like an alien then I’m not human

What makes you more of an American?

Except that you already live HERE

Land of the free, but we’re willing to pay taxes too

And work minimum wage not because of stereotypes

But, because, have you ever lived THERE

It’s a place called Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua, Haiti, Ghana

And now, there’s also, U.SA

See, mi Tia calls it U.SA

It makes me wonder how you sir can judge me

By my brown tone of the roots that bore me

The hair that is too strait to get braids

The hard working qualities that are required to stay alive in a place where most people live off of a $1 a day

The four last first names, all from my ancestors

The freedom of speech, libertad de palabra

Tengo poder en este Mundo

I have power in this world, right?

Since our president is Negro

And we’re always talking about colors but at least they all got along in boxes

Now we’re all in boxes, unless we unite

Become encircled in Enchiladas, Tamales, Pollo Frito, muy rico

But the rich never tasted something so delightful

Unless they count their money

It’s funny; a dollar here is 18 lempiras

And I’m still much wealthier when I’m living for my family

I at least have a home and a community that consists of an aunty here, aunty there, tio aquí, tio allá, nieto por aquí, another cousin from a friend, and then most importantly,

My mother and father who taught me to speak up

Especially when languages no oyen don’t hear the screams of help

Ayudame, por favor, y yo te ayudo,

Unless you think of my hand out as a slap in the face

To someone who doesn’t have to struggle with being new to these parts of town