Monday, December 17, 2012

We coming from the.. Southside of the Chi!


This is the last thing I wrote while I was on retreat with my community. It was a way to allow for the new members to get to know me without actually going into great detail . It was a fun activity and I hope you all who read this create your own "I am from..." poem.

I am from ...
The Southside of Chicago to the migrant fields of the Deep South to the Silver mines and sandy beaches of Guerrero.
I am formerly from the letters DG and SHC and now from JVC and a FJV.
I am from baking cookies and watching Glee on Tuesday nights and wine and Girl Talk on Friday nights.
I am from Concha’s Christmas tamales, Zaca’s mole, and Julia’s enchiladas and Puerto Rican rice.
I am from bittersweet tears and broken hearts.
I am from Bon Iver lyrics and Vincente Fernandez songs.
I am from a neighborhood where many dream, but do not succeed.
I am from a parent who illegally crossed the border and worships Fox News and from a parent who is 2nd generation US-born and tells me to be proud of my brown skin because it is beautiful.
I am from Sedaris, Auslander, Salinger and Bradbury as well from Sobrino, Gutierrez, and Brackley.
I am from both the Gospel of Krugman and the Gospel of John.
I am from the days on the “L” and long nights driving on Lake Shore Drive.
I am from tears of laughter and terremotos with Indira, tears of sorrow with Catherine, and of hurt and frustration with Jake and Emily.
I am from my own broken social scene and a future unknown.
I am from the beat of my own drum.
I am from restless nights, grinding teeth, and the late night strumming on Jake’s guitar heard through my walls that soothes me to sleep.
I am from the joy and life that a hug from Nayade or Benja produces.
I am from the city that worships the 1985 Chicago Bears and I bleed Burnt Orange and Navy Blue.
I am from countless cups of tea and pieces of bread, a number that is best not to know.
I am from Danny’s degrading and humiliating insults that helped me develop a tough skin to consoling me and allowing me to escape to Danny’s serious talk in his car on Maxwell Street, the vulnerability he showed telling me how proud he was and how much he loved me.
I am from so many memories that I hope I don’t forget.