Too Much Spice by Amy Del Cid I am proud of who I am. Now, I may not be the most athletic out of the bunch Can’t make my lacrosse cradle smooth and in pace, or beat others in the race But I can certainly pack a punch. And I may not be the cream of the crop in mathematics, But I know that it’s not my fault, it’s the systematic - Oppression that people of color have faced. When those other folks get a taste, It knocks em out cold, hard in the face. They can’t take the heat. My Latin spice is too hot for them. They can’t handle it. Now, I don’t eat mashed potatoes and string beans for dinner, I eat tortillas, frijoles, and queso for winners. Your cutthroat words cannot be heard Over the sound of the music that helps me learn The noise of my people - timeless records. The rhythm of cumbia, bachata, salsa and more I am prouder than I’ve ever been before. Never can they measure the pride we have, Never will they silence our voices. Never can they understand how difficult it is to be Latino, And the consequences of our choices. Stop saying you have nothing to learn. Stop believing that our issues are none of your concern. Stop refusing to accept where you have gone wrong. Because wherever we go, we will never play along.
12 Still Waters Vol. IV, Issue I.
