child of many diaspora, born into this continent at a crossroads.
I am a U.S. Puerto Rican Jew,
A product of the ghettoes of New York I have never known.
An immigrant and the daughter and granddaughter of immigrants.
I speak English with passion: it’s the tongue of my consciousness,
A flashing knife blade of crystal, my tool, my craft.
I am Caribena, island grown. Spanish is in my flesh,
Ripples from my tongue, lodges in my hips:
The language of garlic and mangoes,
The singing in my poetry, the flying gestures of my hands.
I am of Latinoamerica, rooted in the history of my continent:
I speak from my body.
I am not African. African is in me, but I cannot return.
I am not Taina. Taino is in me, but there is no way back,
I am not European. Europe lives in me, but I have no home there.
I am new. History made me. My first language was Spanglish.
I was born at the crossroads
And I am whole.
Aurora Levins Morales [b. 1954], was written in 1986