The Interlude of What I Am

As the challenge arises

I sat up on my seat

Will this be a chance to express my creativity?

But this concept, creativity

Is it really mine?

Or do I use it in place of something not well defined?

But this goes much deeper than what I originally thought of

Am I really me?

Or am I just a product?

“A product of what?”

As I fill with elation

Am I really me?

Or a spawn of enculturation?

Assimilation, hybridization, transculturation

Big words used to describe what I cannot see

But it’s in the blindness I find what I truly mean

A product of my parents is what I know I am

But when the unseen is seen

Is that still just who I am?

I’m more than a person

This class would have me believe

A union of two cultures

That took the opportunity

Through sweat, blood, and tears of my ancestors’ determination

Through adaptation, here I sit today as their creation

So is this who I represent, who I see, feel?

The beginning with my fam

The continuation of my lineage

And most importantly

The interlude of what I am

So who am I?

I’m the Colombian man

I’m the Cuban man

I’m the American man

I’m three cultures in one

Multiple identities and none

So here I stand as the man I am

With this newfound knowledge

Was this always the plan?