EQUATOR

dear four year old me; cc: u.s. census,

name

last: valdez, middle: samone, first: nina

date of birth: month 07, day 05, year 1998

gender: check the box that applies, female

race: check only one that applies-

even if the number one doesn't define you, check other

because they don't know how else to categorize you, check one

as if identity could be represented by a barbed wire cage, check other

when you're left with no choice, check one

sometimes it's the only option.

at four years old, for show and tell

i brought myself.

i held up my arms in a horizantal and proudly proclaimed,

"on the left is the tropic of capricorn,

on the right is the tropic of cancer,

and i am the latter-

i am the equator."

the other kids looked at me,

wide eyed and curious.

one of them shouted from the back of the class,

"but which one are you more?

are you more black?

or are you more mexican?"

before i could retaliate

another one chimed in with,

"you dont sound black,

you dont look mexican."

curious and wide eyed, i begged them,

"let me see what mexican looks like,

let me hear what black sounds like."

it was at this moment the teacher stood up and said,

"that's enough for today."

so i held my tongue

and i held it some more

and before i could let it go,

eight whole years had washed away

beneath my hands.

fast forward to middle school-

a jungle of sweat, angst, and braces.

i was at a birthday party the first time someone called me

negra.

they said it was the best word to describe me

and i believed them.

they said it appealed to both my black half

and my mexican half.

i spent the rest of the night dreaming of being

more than just two separate halves.

i was the physical embodiment of dissociation,

i wasn't allowed the luxury of being whole.

i guess it caught on pretty fast,

because the next day

no one remembered my name.

i am seventeen years old now

and i still can't speak spanish.

i remain conscious of how i look

and how i sound.

in my dreams i am as full as the pacific ocean,

complete with high tides and low tides.

when i wake up, i look in the mirror

and the first thing i see is still

negra.

but what really matters, are the things i see next-

talented, creative, whole.

and my four year old self staring back at me.

here's a friendly tip:

don't let the voices of others choke out your own.

your self is for you to grow

and for you to love.

you are a constellation,

your light gold and infinite.

yours truly and always, nina samone valdez