I am a walking limbo
I am not white enough to be American
I am not Brown enough to be Mexican

They lump me with other Brown folks as Hispanic
They think we’re all the same culture
They show off their Eurocentric dominance
They only understand when I call myself Latina

I am Mexican-American.
I am Chicana.
I am Xicana.

What’s that? ¿Qué es eso?

Am I Samantha, or Samanta?
Am I Calderon, or Calderón?
Am I “Cauldron,” as they call me

They bastardize my name like they do my culture
I am not a dark, cold cauldron
I am a red, warm Poinsettia
I am vibrant, rooted in Mexico
I am appropriated by el Norte

I am a flavorful culture in a tasteless country

I am outspoken in English
I am hushed tones in Spanish
In either English or Spanish
They still don’t listen

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