If I Tell You

If I Tell You, 2011 Vickie M. Ortiz Vazquez If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am What comes to mind? Morena of “el barrio” or Blonde woman of “el barrio” Better yet, pale skin-blonde from up north That one, the straight English-speaking wanna-be “Con su pelo lacio” If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am Could you describe who I am? Woman controlled, subjected by Welfare Carrying on the poor women cycle You know, the one imposed by the few rich white men Shackled Would you think of me in a bright light; dim light? If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am Do you envision an immigrant, alien? A woman once taken and brought at age 15 Beginning of her womanhood Tormented by loneliness, isolation, ignorance Frustrated by the never ending question, “Are you mixed?” Misunderstood by her citizenship Seen as unfair by many Slaved island, unrealized Are you able to narrate which Puerto Rican woman am I? If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am Puerto Rican I am “Café con leche,” Afro-hair, big lips, small nose Distance between what I was and inspire to be Clinching to her African heritage Searching If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am Can you explain the injustice my hair endured? Constant search for assimilation Assimilation To break free Impacted by those with similar skin color, Afro hair, big lips Different If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am Do you paint two contrasting siblings? Light, dark complexions Tall dark father with short light mother by his side If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am Do your pages bleed from inspiration? Disgust? Stereotypes? Would I read between the lines, a woman becoming her own? Struggling between many worlds Or, do you spell the notion of loud, submissive, sex symbol You know, the one portrayed in the media If I tell you, Puerto Rican I am Can you decipher, WEEEEPA