I am from ligas, from windex and pledge.
I am from the black tarp of the trampoline (black, hot, smelled like sweat).
I'm from the fire pit, the bright flames I can't escape.
I'm from chili enchiladas and contacts.
From Mike and Moraima.
I'm from friendly waves and hand shakes.
From stand up straight and the tangled webs we weave when we practice to deceive.
I'm from This World is not my Home and no harmony in a song.
From Isabel and Lorenzos branch, spicy salsa and military proud.
From the grandfathers lost and the gifts passed down.
Note: This poem was inspired by George Ella Lyon and Being the Change by Sara K. Ahmed