I straddle the Mexican American cultural lines. When I wrote this poem I thought this poem would be for every pocha/x out there like me but I wasn’t prepared for the outpour of understanding, for the community.
The first time I read Enough in an open crowd I had a man walk up to me afterwards and say I’m half white half Latino. I go through the same thing. We connected on the threads of breathing two living cultures but not fully belonging to one.
The fact that I cannot speak Spanish (rural Tex-Mex) well alienates me even more. I could learn the “proper” Spanish but there are so many accent variations that my family’s Spanish isn’t taught in school. I could point fingers and others could point fingers on who to blame but it doesn’t change how things unfolded.
My partner, Vietnamese American, deals with the same issues of being disconnected from Vietnamese and the Vietnamese spoken in America is evolving from Vietnamese spoken in Vietnam. I have no doubt that many minorities living in America deal with these same struggles but that’s for another conversation for another day.
I’ve had the pleasure to talk with people who are bi/multiracial, are balancing the same questions of cultural identity and trying to keep the insecurities (I’m not Mexican enough. Not Black enough. Not Vietnamese enough. Not American enough. Not [Insert Your Ethnicity] enough.) at bay.
To those I have and have not met yet: let’s simply be enough today.
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