Echoes of Daily Microaggressions
You insist to tell me you know someone like me
after I put you through the guessing game.
Guessing the origins of my name, my appearance and the stereotypes you hold.
"I had a friend who" is your starting line, but to which end?
Is it to pretend that you were better than those who seemed confused by me?
Or was it your white saviour complex that felt compelled to make me feel less of a unicorn?
Wasn't it you who also told me about your "life changing" experience down south?
Who told me you love the "Latino culture"?
Who called me spicy and exotic as I were food for your consumption?
Me llamaste bonita, me llamaste caliente. ¿Y para que?
Wasn't it you who asked me to teach you swear words in my language?
But to which end?
So the first thing you can do to mi gente is insult them? Us? Me?
You would rather debase us while simultaneously tell me our names are too hard to learn?
What the hell for?
You might think you have met "one of me" but we are so much more
than the old tired stereotypes you hold in your head.
Nuestras historias son complicadas pero son nuestras y son varias.
Our hunger for representation of ourselves as Latinx, Afro-Latinx, y pueblos Indígenas
is stronger than that of colonial powers to homogenize us and erase us.
Wasn't it you who told me I didn't look Black because of the shade of my skin?
And wasn't it you who had me justify myself in blood quantum - a colonial/slave trade measure?
3/4, 75%, tres cuartos, setenta y cinco por ciento. ¿Que más quieres?
You insist to tell me how you understand me, but truly you misrepresent me.
The only word I have left for you is silence.
after I put you through the guessing game.
Guessing the origins of my name, my appearance and the stereotypes you hold.
"I had a friend who" is your starting line, but to which end?
Is it to pretend that you were better than those who seemed confused by me?
Or was it your white saviour complex that felt compelled to make me feel less of a unicorn?
Wasn't it you who also told me about your "life changing" experience down south?
Who told me you love the "Latino culture"?
Who called me spicy and exotic as I were food for your consumption?
Me llamaste bonita, me llamaste caliente. ¿Y para que?
Wasn't it you who asked me to teach you swear words in my language?
But to which end?
So the first thing you can do to mi gente is insult them? Us? Me?
You would rather debase us while simultaneously tell me our names are too hard to learn?
What the hell for?
You might think you have met "one of me" but we are so much more
than the old tired stereotypes you hold in your head.
Nuestras historias son complicadas pero son nuestras y son varias.
Our hunger for representation of ourselves as Latinx, Afro-Latinx, y pueblos Indígenas
is stronger than that of colonial powers to homogenize us and erase us.
Wasn't it you who told me I didn't look Black because of the shade of my skin?
And wasn't it you who had me justify myself in blood quantum - a colonial/slave trade measure?
3/4, 75%, tres cuartos, setenta y cinco por ciento. ¿Que más quieres?
You insist to tell me how you understand me, but truly you misrepresent me.
The only word I have left for you is silence.