White Boy ChIcano (a poem)

White Boy Chicano

It’s an identity crisis

My parents are Mexican migrants, who stay busy all the time

Spanish is my first language, then almost losing it because of time

My TV only showed Mexicans involved in crime

The stereotypes didn’t represent me

My school peers didn’t believe me

I wasn’t Mexican or White

Being a gringo and Mehican left me asking,

Who am I? Where do I belong to?

Pinche White Boy

I looked in the mirror…

I saw a lighter shade of brown,

I had to prove to my Raza I was down,

So, I started wearing tan Dickies, Chucks Taylors and black tees

To be apart of something,

My barrio

A cholo

A putasos y getting fucked up

To prove que soy uno de ellos,

También para las chicas,

American Me and gangster rap was my bible,

Even with all that work, I still stood out as the White boy,

As I had to quit the job

I started saying “My parents are from Spain.” and started to pretend and accept that I was a white boy,

Years passed and my brown soul started to cry,

I was living a lie,

My TV still didn’t tell me why,

Again, I looked in the mirror,

This time I asked Creator to give me a sign,

“CHICANO”

For the first time in my life,

This felt right!

Being Chicano was me,

The history, our History, told me everything I needed to know for my identity

I found out why my great, great, great, great grandmother was the victim of rape,

And how colonization changed the game of life,

It was a White supremacy type of life

Blanqueamiento ideology to survive

The things I wish I knew when I was younger and realized why they

Didn’t teach this in grade school,

White boy Chicano is my state of mind.