A not so Happy 4th of July
Here I sit in my bedroom on the 4th of July wishing I could be outside to watch the fireworks I hear going off all around me. I am free & I’m fortunate that as a Latina for the most part I have all the freedoms this country and constitution afford me. Or so I used to think. A part of me mourns with the rest of the people of color, the indigenous, the trans community along with the rest of my LGBTQ brothers and sisters. I can’t help but wonder where America went wrong? What have we been doing for the past 244 years? Were we in our right minds when this country was first established? If in fact “all men are created equal” and we’re entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of justice then why must this same system oppress so many? It isn’t fair, it isn’t right and so many of us are not treated as equals.
The America I believe in perhaps never existed. I feel like this is was all an illusion I’ve paid taxes to, further, what does that then say for all my childhood memories? This day used to be one of my favorites and for the first time in my life, I was not looking forward to today. How can any of this be a “Happy 4th of July” when so many are hurting?
Still, I’m reminded of my grandmother, I ask myself what would she do in this situation? She would tell me to be grateful that I’m alive and that stormy weather doesn’t last forever, more than anything I know she would tell me to keep fighting the good fight and that she didn’t raise a quitter. I can’t help but wonder what life for her as a 1st generation Mexican American must have been like, living through The Great Depression. How I wish I could ask my great, great, great Papa Lolo what Mexico was like. If I could I’d ask if “America” was really that much better than the mother country?
It always baffles me when I hear the elected official some call the President say that I should go back to where I came from. REALLY because I’m pretty sure all of Texas was at one point part of Mexico & our land was taken from us. As far as I know, where I grew up WAS and STILL is part of this country. We never asked for anything just to be treated as equals. I think about my great-great-grandmother who was a lot “darker” than me when I recall tails of her getting seated at the back of restaurants because of the color of her skin.
I knew I was different as a Latina because I wasn’t as skinny as the white girls and I always thought that made me less pretty. Or the fact that my hair is brown and not blonde. I also never thought I was “less than” anyone else. I grew up speaking Spanish just as much as I did English, if not more at one point but I had white teachers growing up that wouldn’t let us speak Spanish in the classroom. If we did we got sent to the principle’s office. I’ll never forget the day someone I thought loved me for me told me they could never marry me because I’m Mexican. The fact that I’m a woman with a Ph.D. still doesn’t guarantee me equal pay. As it is I still struggle to find a job that pays me my worth.
Someone tell me are we still free? For me, this is a not so happy 4th of July. When I would normally wear red and blue, today I’m wearing black. I wear black for the misunderstood, I’m wearing black for all the loves that have been recently been lost including George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Eric Garner, Elijiah Mcclain (that one hurts the most), Brayla Stone, Rayshard Brooks, Sandra Bland, and so many others. The sad part is that I can’t keep track of all the names.
Today I’m not free until EVERYONE is free.
