Contradictions Weaving into Acceptance

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In a sea of young, white faces decorated with blonde hair and light eyes,

my dark wavy mane and round, brown eyes construe the pretty image.

 

There’s still some hope. Maybe they don’t notice. Thank god I was spared that harsh Latin accent my grandfather adorns.

 

I glance at the front of the room where the future of this sea of blonde hair and light eyes in the form of an adult body stands beside a whiteboard.

The adult body, Mrs. Peterson, gives names to the blonde hair and light eyes; Peter Williams, Allison Waters, John McGreer, Elissa Diaz…

 

That’s it. I’m exposed.

 

Diaz, she calls in a confusing manner as if it she read it wrong.

Diaz, she whispers in hesitation because the name does not quite roll off her tongue with ease.

Diaz, she barks because it absolutely does not belong.

 

Why would she bark at the sound of my Latin name when I didn’t even choose it? I am forced to bear it. It’s not my fault…

 

Her condescending tone transports me to a place of shame, to a place of embarrassment but then, to a place of rage.

I refuse to feel guilty of the name that stands for a history of men and women kissed by the Caribbean sun with calloused hands.

I refuse to feel guilty of the name that stands for tireless nights spent compacted between hundreds of people on a boat dreaming for better days.

I refuse to feel guilty of the name that stands for bravery for coming to a foreign place that claimed to be the land of the free but forced foreigners’ hopes into a barred prison.

 

If the year is 2014 and everyone claims we have moved forward,

why do I see cops harassing men with dark skin for papers?

If the year is 2014 and we supposedly embrace this melting pot,

why is the pot poisoned with the same resistant, old-fashioned morals?

If the year is 2014 and we advocate for change

why is the land of the free still fenced in by barbed wire?

 

Cops should protect and serve all, no matter someone’s color.

Melting pot should relinquish its ignorance and embrace its unique flavors.

Land of the free should strike down its guards and open its gates.

If I could change one thing in this society, it would be for all men and women no matter their background to be accepted and embraced.

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