I Am Just Mexican

Growing up I was always asked “what are you?”

People expected me to be half African American, Asian from India, Philippine, or Thai; that would make sense because of my complexion.

 I would sadly respond, “No I’m just Mexican,” mostly out of embarrassment or shame. Let that sink in for a moment, No I’m JUST Mexican.

Realization!

From Mayans-who developed calendars and writing systems to Aztecs who had their own government, this is a start. We are Mexican.

We survived the attacks and conquer of the Spaniards. We pushed through the disease we suffered, not as a whole but as a new. We are Mexican.

We pushed through as the English Europeans took over our land, but yet still survived. Some made of bitterness but some out of love; yet again making us newer and stronger. We are Mexican.

As Chinese and African Americans ran for sanctuary, we opened our doors. Because we believed that our home is the safest and we did it with open hears. We are Mexican.

We fought for our land and lost it all, and told never to return; but we still held our heads high. Even today we are told to run back home, when this is our home; but we stand with honour.  We are Mexican.

We battled with every side to prove our worth just to be enslaved and put to shame by those we protected; but we still stand tall. We are Mexican.

So I say “No I’m just Mexican” again and again; but not with embarrassment or shame, but with pride.

I am strong and brave. I am smart. I survive, I don’t fall down easily, I don’t cry over the past I move forward with the future, I don’t bow my head in shame; for I am the entire world rolled into one.

I AM JUST MEXICAN!