Minority Majority (Duplicity)

I look at the white man that is my father
and the Mexican that is my mother
and I am proud of who I am genetically, foundationally
but I don't know what that is
because it's all abstract, everything's so abstract
and where I live people talk down to the Mexicans
they're Mexican'ts
they're idiots, people who don't speak English and therefore are less than me and less than you
because knowing English makes me better,
knowing English makes me smarter.
even my best friend
she looks at me and laughs and says
this is America, we speak English here
and I am incredulous
because
this was our land before your people took it from us
this was our language before your people cut out our tongues
this was our home before your people uprooted us, murdered us
this was our salvation before your people killed our gods and made us Christian
this was our safety and security, our holy land, before it became the place we were not safe,
nowhere was safe

and I'm afraid, because her blood runs through me
I am Mexican and I am white,
I am European and I am brown,
I am both the murdered and the murderer,
the victim and the perpetrator,
the virgin and the rapist,
How can I blame her for her ancestor's mistakes without also blaming myself?

She loves America, see,
but I can't love what I don't understand.
I cannot love what I do not agree with.
I cannot love that which wrongs my people.

I am a child of mistaken love, of youthful whimsy
I am a child of children, of two teenagers who fell into bed together and came out with a baby blossomed in their arms, a burden strapped to their back
my father's parents didn't like my mother, you know
because she is brown, because she is a Mexican
and my father's brother was even worse
because she is a woman
he sought to break her down and bring her apart
he could not stand the sight of a strong woman
with a strong heart
when his was not

that's all I saw
from what I know of family
sometimes I cannot accept that I am white
the male superiority that white people are born with
I can't connect myself with that
but then again I don't know Spanish
I can't understand these words like water flowing out of mouths
rich and fast and blurred, and I don't know
caught between these two extremes
neither here nor there,
the looking glass broke while I was on my way through and here I am,
a reflection of myself, cracked and broken, not complete
I am not whole by myself
I don't know my racial identity
I cannot connect with these opposites

It's like I can't be white as a person of Mexican descent,
I can't be Mexican unless I know Spanish.
I can't love men as a feminist, I can't love women without being a lesbian.
I can't admire both love and war, peace and destruction,
I cannot breathe both smoke and air.
When did the world become so black and white?
Where do the rest of us go, who are neither black nor white?
I am brown, and this is what I am--
I am Mexican American and this is what I am,
I am a woman and this is what I am,
I love men and I love women and this is what I am,
but these are not who I am, and these things do not define me.