I visited Mexico relatively often as a kid, whether it was to stay for several months or just a couple weeks. I always found joy in seeing my family and returning to where I felt was my pueblito. One of the times I visited my grandparents, I remember watching a really interesting movie while my parents were out. I was really fond of this movie because unlike other channels they would watch, this movie wasn't badly dubbed, in black and white or staticky. It was raining pretty hard so the lights would shut off every now and then but they remarkably stayed pretty stable through the movie. By the very end, when the credits were nothing but a few minutes away, the thunder got louder and the lights went out completely. I hid my toes and tucked my feet into the couch out of fear that the scorpions my parents warned me about would come to pinch my feet. My grandparents got me up, walked me to the kitchen, and as I stood there scared by the lightning, the dark, and the scorpions, my grandpa rummaged into a drawer and held something out to me. I heard the strike of a lighter followed by an intense burning feeling on my forearm, under the dim lights a very obvious bald spot was made visible by the stench of burnt hair. But still, that and a whimper were not enough to convince my grandpa that the lighter burnt me.
I love my grandpa and he truly meant no harm as he repeated no te paso nada, no te paso nada. To be a big girl there are a lot of things I have to give up, and even more when giving up is all I am allowed to live up to. This expectation was made a lot more challenging as a queer person. Being the oldest sibling in a first-generation latine household there were a lot of standards that I had to meet, and one of those unspoken rules and guidelines was to align myself with cis-straightness. This was not the first nor last time someone I loved ignored my pain and fear, but it marks a pattern that I see enforced throughout my community. Due to my identity, I had to erase/ silence a part of my experience as a means of preservation for both my family and myself.
My parents were both hard workers, so this led to me needing to step up in order to help, both in terms of childcare and emotional labor. I often stretch myself thin or complicate plans in order to help my parents, being glad that my siblings and parents rely on me but all of the responsibilities leave me often feeling burnt out. Rewriting this after finishing my third year I realize that I felt like I did so much for my family, but now I feel ashamed I don’t do more. When I was young I strived towards being a strong young woman but I was nervous and unsure of myself and my identity. Now that I’ve grown to understand my identity I find trouble balancing my education with being a caretaker of my siblings, feeling overwhelmed with the responsibility.
Though my parents were not, as one would say “traditional”, they still enforced a somewhat subordinate position. This was especially frustrating because it made me feel like the trust and independence I had were conditional, only when they needed me to pick up more responsibilities. Because my parents were driven to not let me make the same mistakes surrounding education they did, they pushed me towards higher education. They support me and I understand that I live very privileged due to their hard work. They said as long as I go to school they promise to support me but in order for that to be true I must prioritize taking care of my siblings. I was taught to be strong-headed, and opinionated, so I could make decisions for myself and my siblings but as soon as I mess with the social order and question anything I am seen as disrespectful, wrong, and bitchy.
My poem was a lot about growing and becoming myself while being who my parents need me to be. I was once not able to recognize myself, not being able to separate myself from who I needed to be. I am happy with who I am now and when I look at my parents I hope they'll be able to see me for who I am and be proud, not for my sake, but theirs. I am strong, and I’m happy to be strong with them.