

It started with the freckles
It started with the freckles. I looked at the reflection in the bathroom mirror in a startled awe: what once was mole dug into itself through to the contours of my canines, bloodied spit in an exit wound. The saline dripped into their crevices as I ran tears across my cheek, the unwanted birth of a sprint I now know well. The cupboard’s bandages wouldn’t cover all the open, raw, missing.
I tried to kiss a lover soon after, press love down on their forehead. I found those lips too scrubbed away, mouth unmade, a cavity adorning the crown of their skull. A gasp struggled against my airways with the absence of a tongue cut short, the snip of words and lives sheared away. I choked; silence.
What do I do with this black hole, the gnaw of chromosomes against soul? In my marrow I feel the scrape of lived experience devoured in glee, a relentless, unending maw. Their teeth gnash in X X. When there is nothing left for them to consume, what of me will be permitted to survive?
start with the e lection in the room a mole dug through our b o die s, an ex wo n . The li e (their s) I cross unwanted I now know . The ba d wo n’t cover all kiss a lover , press down on he r for I found lips too bed unmade, adorning he r A gasp against my tongue words and lives he red
I do this h omo in my marrow live experience in glee, relentless, unending . T as in X X. w e will survive?
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What does citizenship mean? Citizenship in America is not a static or stable concept. Throughout American history, citizenship was tied to race and ethnicity. The racialized nature of U.S. citizenship meant that non-White people were often excluded from fully participating in society (Desmond & Emirbayer, 2009). The legal battles fought by Black Americans during the Civil Rights Movement led to the expansion of citizenship rights to marginalized groups, such as Native Americans and Asian and Latinx immigrants (Hannah-Jones, 2019). Still today, the meaning of citizenship continues to be shaped by racial ideologies, and it can be withdrawn or redefined at the whim of the government. Racial categories and immigration policies have always been intertwined (Desmond & Emirbayer, 2009). For example, the Johnson-Reed Act of 1924 explicitly restricted immigration based on racial and ethnic categories, setting quotas that favored European immigrants and limited those from other parts of the world. These racial hierarchies of citizenship are not just a historical issue. It’s still evident in the ways immigrant communities are treated today.
The question of who belongs in the U.S. and who does not has never had a clear or consistent answer. From the Know-Nothing movement of the 1850s, which condemned Irish immigrants as unworthy of citizenship, to the racist immigration policies of the 1920s, to the current debates over birthright citizenship, there has been a constant cycle of inclusion or exclusion based on race and ethnicity. As Dr. Kantrowitz said, the concept of citizenship is always shifting depending on the political climate at the time.
For Native Americans, this cycle of exclusion is nothing new. For them, citizenship has always been a tool of racial domination, and the granting of citizenship often came with the loss of rights and recognition. The struggles of the Ho-Chunk and other Native peoples to reclaim their land and preserve their identity show that citizenship can be both a tool of resistance and a means of oppression. With the current threat to birthright citizenship, we can see that these struggles are ongoing.
In the end, citizenship is not just a legal status. It’s a deeply political and cultural construct. It’s shaped by history, power, and the ongoing struggle for rights and recognition. In order to break this cycle of exclusion and oppression, we must recognize our shared humanity, work towards dismantling the systems of racial injustices, and ensure that the concept of citizenship fosters true inclusion, belonging, and justice for all.