Yes! We Are Latinos: Poems and Prose About the Latino Experience
My Name Is Juanita I am Mexican I live in New York I am Latina Get up Juanita levántate m’hija My mother’s voice is impatient Come on it’s getting late I’ll miss my bus I don’t want to upset her so I get up I sit at the table where breakfast is already waiting My brothers devour steaming tortillas and huevos rancheros eggs cooked just as they like them We leave the apartment together Dios los bendiga m’hijos May God bless you my mother calls out rushing to catch the bus that will take her to work Between the tall buildings of the never-ending street 8
I can see a thin strip of sky On the sidewalk my feet crush dead leaves that announce soon the days will be cold My brothers long legs leave me behind Ramón and Ramiro will be at their middle school soon and I will still be crunching leaves with my new sneakers 9
I slow down even more remembering how different it was to go to school at home in Mexico walking on the narrow streets paved with stones among the round hills always green We would gather as we walked Rosa María Elena Lupe and me without even realizing it like flowers will sometimes bloom together in the same patch We arrived happily at our small school where time passed unnoticed We learned numbers and letters addition and subtraction But the best part of each day was our music We practiced our dances and songs proudly having been chosen to perform them in the plaza I wish though that school had taught us more about Mexico and my people Here the teacher talks about the rich ancient civilizations of the country of my birth and I know so little about it Finally the long sidewalk splattered with brown leaves brings me to the door of this new school where my language my sweet Mixtec 10
is a secret language that no one in this school even suspects exists My teacher will greet me in Spanish Buenos días Juana I understand she believes she is speaking my home language trying to make me feel good showing me that she has made the effort to learn a little Spanish I smile at her saying Buenos días Mrs Johnston She reminds me of Sra Sánchez my first teacher in Mexico who on the first day asked me if I spoke Spanish When I said No she answered You’ll learn Here we speak only Spanish Now as then I will struggle through the day while the teacher speaks her own language this new language with all those w’s Only today a surprise awaits me at school Next to the teacher stands a girl her skin the same rich color as mine her hair black long and as straight as mine and her face showing the same surprise as mine 11
