Ode to my Immigrant Family

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You grow roots where you stand 

the same roots you carefully

pulled, packed, unwrapped

again and again

You settle in rooms that are too small

a single window that envisions 

a dream bigger than 

America, the land that doesn’t love you

but your roots never wither

Your Spanish never withers 

I wear my accent like it’ll never get dirty 

I will not wash it in white, 

You taught me it’s easy to get mixed up in colors 

You are the teacher that never went to school,

in each exhaled tradition, 

sits the memory of a resilient Latina, 

My mother 

You move through a language you barely know 

You are powerful, knowledgeable, you are 

here – visible, 

even when people don’t want to see you or understand you or love you

your roots are far too long to get lost in 

translation, through generations 

your roots will still be there ready para los que siguen

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