Just because your
abuelitos came here
and (eventually) became
legal
and had nice brown legal
babies
that became your mamá
and papá,
doesn’t mean your brown
ass
doesn’t have a stake in
immigration reform.
Even though you were
born in this country,
you’re still an illegal.
Even though you espeak
without an accent,
you’re still a wetback.
Even though you have
white manteca legs,
you’re still a spic.
Don’t get me wrong,
cariño,
go to work and do your
best,
earn those raises and
bonuses,
because living well is
the best revenge.
But, mijo, don’t you
dare ignore
your coworker’s comments
about the women
who serve you food,
who clean the restrooms,
who empty your
wastebaskets,
the women who look like
your tias,
or else you’ll suffer a
fate worse
than that of la llorona.
It is not I who place
this curse upon you, mi amor.
but rather the
curanderas from your clan
whose whispers you
dismiss
when they come to you at
night.
No, you can’t sit this
one out, pendejo
Educate!
Facilitate!
Communicate!
Hermanito, I’m not
saying this to be mean,
I’m saying this to
wake
your
Brown
ASS
UP!
