On February 3rd, 2017, I officially became a US Citizen. It’s been 2 years and I am now on month 7 of an 11 month journey around the world.
A little over two years ago, I didn’t think that becoming a US citizen would be a big deal to me. Yes, I was born in Mexico, and, yes, my first language is Spanish; but, I have spent the majority of my life in the States and my primary language quickly became English.
When I lived in Mexico, I was known to my friends as “wera” (blondie) or “gringa.” Once I moved to the rural lands of Ohio, I shied away from my Mexican heritage so as to fit in to the standards of the local community.
It took me years to own and be proud of my Mexican heritage. Once I learned to own that aspect of my identity, I believed that becoming a US citizen was just another “step” to take to make my living situation “official.” Honestly, I thought it was going to be just another piece of paper…
I was wrong.
I was driving my red Ford Ranger. My mom and I had just stopped at the Post Office and picked up the mail.
There it was— a letter from USCIS (US Citizenship and Immigration Services):
“You are hereby notified to appear for a Naturalization Oath Ceremony.”
…
The tears were uncontrollable. 23 years. I was 23 years old now and had lived in the States for about 16 years. 16 years.
I grew up living the words of Ijeoma Umebinyuo:
“so, here you are
too foreign for home
too foreign for here.
never enough for both.”
But, on that day, I had a little taste of what it meant to be finally welcomed “home.” After 16 years, I finally, officially, belonged.
No more fear. No more chains. No more doubts.
Gosh, to look back and remember what that felt like brings me to tears. My soul still soars consistently within the in-between of the melody of the Star Spangled Banner and the trumpets of the Mexican National Anthem. But I now know that I can rest where I choose and please to do so in safety.
Safety— that is what citizenship has meant to me. In roaming the Earth these past 6 months, I am reassured of one thing— my safety, my citizenship, is not of this world. My safety is in Him. Home is in Christ. And in His Kingdom is the only place I will forever and always be enough.
Thanks for reading 🙂
I Am What I Am. So What?
I’m a grafted flower
that didn’t take, a Mexican
without being one,
an American without
feeling like one.
The music from Mexico
makes me feel complete.
The huapangos, rancheras,
the Mexican National Anthem
gives me goose bumps, a lump
in my throat and make my feet
tap to the beat, but I feel like
I’m wearing a borrowed hat.
Mexicans look at me as if saying,
“You’re not Mexican!”
The “Star Spangled Banner” also
gives me goose bumps,
a lump in my throat.
Gringos look at me as if saying,
“You’re not American!”
My soul crumples.
My heart has no room
for two countries
as it has no room for two lovers.
Unfortunately, I belong
neither here, nor there.
Not Mexican enough,
not American enough.
I’ll have to say,
“I’m from the border,
from Laredo,
from a strange place
not Mexican nor American,
where at sunset the smell of
fajitas grilled over mesquite
makes my mouth water,
where at a birthday party
we sing `Happy Birthday’
and `Las Mañanitas,’
where we celebrate George Washington’s
birthday without knowing why,
where outsiders get culture
shock and can live here fifty years
and still be outsiders,
where in many places the
green, white and red flag
waves proudly alongside
the red, white and blue.
I’m displaced like the Río
Grande, once a part of México.
I’m a puppet jerked by the strings
of two cultures that clash. I’m
la mestiza,
la pocha,
la Tex-Mex,
la Mexican-American,
la hyphenated
who lacks her own identity
and struggles to find it,
who no longer wants to
close her eyes to a reality
that strikes her,
that wounds her,
who no longer wants
to bite her tongue,
who in Veracruz defended
the United States with
tooth and nail,
who in Laredo defends
México the same way.
I’m a walking contradiction.
In other words, like Laredo,
I am what I am. So what?
By Raquel Valle-Sentíes
