Tuesday, February 23, 2010

I am puerto rican, and this is my pride.
I was born Miguelito Santos-Gonzalez because my mama thought it would take me places. To be completely honest I don’t think it’s taken me anywhere, considering I haven’t seen farther than the south side of the city, but if I were to tell her that she would start crying about her home country, and how we have it much better here.

I don’t tell her that technically, Puerto Rico isn’t a country. That’d just make her angry.

Regardless, kids like me- kids who grew up in the really bad parts of New Jersey know that we’ll never make it out of here. We’ll grow up, drop out of high school our junior year, or just never end up going to college, and become mechanics like our fathers or uncles. Or get pregnant and have a baby with a guy who drinks all day. We know this. We accept this. It’s just the way of our neighborhood.

When Alejandro, my older brother, came home with a tattoo that said, the people of Union City are red, white, and blue, my mama couldn’t be mad, because it was our culture. When he showed it to me I laughed.

“The people of Union City are colorless, Alejandro, and you know it.”

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