mija, we love…

2/ 10/19

Naturally I write through poetry, and this is one that I wrote a few days ago about never wanting to forget the culture and the community that I no longer live in the midst of in Argentina. It is written from the perspective of my mom and my abuela, they both have always instilled in me that we are proud of who we are and of our culture; this is about never wanting to forget where I came from.

Mija, we love our people.

Mija, we love our Argentine heritage.

Mija, we love our family.

Mija, we love our latinx brothers and sisters.

Mija, there is no Español like ours, no emotion like ours, no love like ours.

Mija, we are Hispanic.

Mija, we are Latina.

Mija, we love those who need refuge, it is our specialty.

Mija, never forget where you had your first birthday, those walls shaped our familia.

Mija, por favor, never forget how we walk, or talk with our hands.

Mija, it is important you never let them tell you we don’t matter. Stand up for who we are. Speak for those who are not here.

Mija, we are few but we are many, we show respect and love for our family.

Mija, don’t let them tell you that an empanada is a pizza pocket or a small calzone.

Mija, our heritage is important and our culture is rich, never forget the small things.

Mija, we love to stand in fila and we love to complain too loud.

Mija, you have to translate for me, I don’t understand.

Mija, it is okay to be proud of who you are.

Mija, your curls come from our home, you will learn to love them.

Mija, your eyes are from our home, they are your grandfathers’.

Mija, I think it is time we took a trip home, let’s go home.