I bet now months go by and he never thinks of me- maybe he does when he sees a crazy bitch on his feed he’ll remember me for a moment and think “damn, I dodged a bullet” and then he’ll scroll on to something else that’s way more interesting
It’s been 4 years since I took an oath to become an American citizen. I took an oath specifically to Trump which makes me nauseous typing BUT I also took an oath because of Trump. Before making the decision to become an American citizen, I had never really cared about politics but that was until Trump got elected. If you were a POC or immigrant or both, you felt the shift in the racial tension in the U.S right before the election but especially after the election. Racists overtly made their ignorant beliefs known that immigrants were not welcomed in this country. DACA was in the process of being repealed. DACAmented kids who should have been protected were being deported and there was a rise in deportation for undocumented immigrants as well or well the media made it seem like that. I felt that as an immigrant with LPR (legal permanent resident) status, I could possibly be next. In February of 2016, I sent my paperwork to USCIS to solidify my relationship with America. One could say that for better or worse, I finally decided to make a commitment to this country. Here is my blog post about the process:
What has changed in the past 4 years since becoming an American and what does being American mean to me now?
Well, I’ve voted in 2 elections since I’ve become an American including the national election in 2020 (yay, no more Trump). In October of this year, I applied for my passport and have received it. Now, I can take a trip out of the country without any worries or concerns. While it is an immense privilege to be an American citizen since I now have a whole new world of opportunities opened up and I can travel anywhere; I feel that I haven’t really changed on the inside. I still see myself and identify as an immigrant but now I also call myself an American. But to be honest, my idea of being an American has changed. I used to think I needed a piece of paper to say “Oh, I’m American” but for better or worse, America is and has been ingrained in me since that hot September day in 1986 when I set my foot on American soil at the age of 5.
I was an American when every morning at school I would say the Pledge of Allegiance in my broken and terrible English at the age of 6 and 7.
me in 1987
I was an American when I went back to Peru at age 9 to get my resident alien status solidified with my family.
me at age 9 in Peru during my trip with my family to get our LPR status
I was an American when I met my childhood best friends in Hawaii at age 11.
me with one of my childhood best friends from Hawaii
I was an American when I had my babies at ages 17, 24, and 30.
me with my three kids right after their births
I was American when I started working for the government at the age of 18.
me at the age of 18 in 1999 working for the government
I was an American when I got my college degree in 2009 from the University of Georgia .
me in 2009 with my parents at my graduation from college
I was an American in 2016 and early 2017 when I attended protests and marches for immigrant and women’s rights.
me in January of 2017 at the Women’s March in Washington D.C
And I was an American when people told me, “my english is good for being a Mexican” or I’ve been discriminated against or oppressed in this country by the people that don’t want “my kind” here.
I used to believe that I didn’t belong here because of the racism, prejudice, and ignorance I’ve encountered but that’s no longer the case. This year, I finally let go of those beliefs because I’ve embraced that I am America and America is me. My life may have been harder in many aspects because I wasn’t the average “American born” citizen but I will tell you that I wouldn’t trade my experience as an American to be average. I I feel that working harder than the “average American” for my success has made me appreciate my success so much more and for that I am thankful. My parents had no idea of the many hardships they would endure making the decision to immigrate to this country but I am glad they made that journey. It’s taken me 35 years to get here but today I can honestly say that I’m proud to be an American.
me in November of 2021 telling my crazy story about being an essential worker
I try my best to take delight in my life and enjoy everything good but fuck it, if I have to be honest with myself- sometimes the depression gets the best of me and I drink and write sad and pathetic things about how I want to cut my wrists and watch the blood leave my body maybe I’m just embracing the cliche of being a tortured artist or my darkness needs a place to fucking go- at least I’m now acknowledging it instead of suppressing it- and I almost spiral into a cycle of self loathing but instead say “fuck it- this is who I fucking am sometimes”- An emo girl caught up in her trauma and hormones- Wait-how did this poem turn into– Oh yeah-the prompt delight well whatever this is its the best drunk and depressed me has to give to my creativity tonight
for a long time I had given up on love- thinking why should I even try If I screw it up each and every time but lately I feel myself lighter, happier- and full of hope that even after my disastrous love history That’s still a world of romance left to experience and explore There’s still more muses to write poetry about- my love story didn’t end with an electronic pink slip or being blocked from my whatevership my love story will start over again with someone who’s brave and strong enough to handle me- and can’t imagine his life without me
my final step in returning to myself was returning to my homeland once I finally found my stable sense of identity I had desperately searched for since I could remember- I felt like Alice in Wonderland my eyes wide open, my mouth opened in awe- taking in the glorious sights and sounds of my birthplace the 32 years away from it didn’t matter the ocean, the mountains, the city welcomed me back Reminding me it had always been there for me to come back to and the powerful and profound emotions I felt in standing on the ground that saw my birth and early childhood made me understand there really is no place like home
my soul commands me to slow down and listen in silence to what I need It tells me to not suppress anything-even it looks angry another mean and petty poem appears it’s okay, it’s shadow self needing to be seen it’s a part of my identity that doesn’t define me my soul tells me I’m not worst or best moments I’m more complicated than that I’m a woman full of trauma search for the calm in the chaos that is her life
let me sabotage this new relationship by comparing him to my ex- the one I still write poems about, the one who still visits me in my dreams the one who wouldn’t leave his wife or other lovers for me- my new boyfriend treats me with respect and is such a calm guy my friends tell me this is healthy but I find it boring I miss being last on someone’s list I miss being treated as an afterthought I miss the inner chaos and conflict that came from the uncertainty of not knowing if my lover was sure of me-
five years ago, I was obsessed with a psychopath he made me believe he wanted only me he made himself out to be single for 10 fucking years but one day I found out through his dad’s obituary he was married and I severed our connection without any remorse or apologies from him he claimed he didn’t do anything wrong, he was just a private person that day I received my honorary degree in psychopathy
cupid gets it wrong once again- bringing out a drawn out rejection for a month- This time he tells me, “You’re cool enough to make out with but not good enough for my mom” I almost throw my phone across the room instead I say “it’s cool.it’s okay” and take a pen to my rage on paper
You will always be a secret that I’ll regret one that makes me full of shame and guilt one I’ve tried to block again and again unsuccessfully It’s something I will never talk about it would cause my inner world much harm so I’ll keep quiet about it Swallow it whole It’s a story of trauma that doesn’t need to be told
saint tracey assured me my life wasn’t over she showed me love and compassion when everyone else shunned me she accepted me for who I was and encouraged me to follow the path of success she saw the hidden potential in me when other teachers saw laziness she was a prayer from God sent to me to remind me my mistakes don’t define me and that I was still worthy of the love and goodness in the world