To my Afro-Latinx son,

To my Afro-Latinx son,

I dreamed of you last night. You looked at me. I saw in your eyes the weight of being black in the home of the free white man. The fear of raising an Afro-Latinx in Utah stayed with me as I rose from my bed.

I have been working on healing from my inherited colonization oppression so that maybe I can alleviate a bit of the difficult history that is your inheritance. 400 years of slavery-turned-oppression in the US + 500 years of colonization-turned-colorism in Latino America = too much for your eight-year-old shoulders to bear. I hope I can alleviate that burden.

Principe bello know that even though our system is broken, it doesn’t mean that you are. You are not the problem. Unfortunately, your father and I will need to teach you how tosurvive in the Whitened States, but we will also teach you about your gorgeous African, Black, and Latinx heritage.

Albeit, you will be confused. We definitively were while growing up. We were oreos and coconuts. Not white enough, not black enough, not Latinx enough, not African enough, not Mexican enough, not Guatemalan enough, not brown enough, not good enough, not perfect enough. No. They still haven’t learned that we, the mixed, are more than enough to fit into one single checked box on a census. Our souls are so much more.

Oh my son I will teach you to dance punta as the African ancestors hid it away on those hopeless boats and carried it to Central America, seared to the left foot that was chained to its brothers, while the right danced to escape.

I will teach you to play the Spanish guitar as we inherited colonizer blood. Yes, the same that massacred so many indigenous people on this continent runs through you. Don't worry, you will soon become adept at living among the pale faces that inherited our land. Our colonized tongues will sing in Spanish and Portuguese, but today we will sing to heal and not kill.To live and not fear.

 Your father will teach your soul it’s food. Oh I’m so excited for learning Grandma Shirl’s recipes as we listen to Gospel music because even through systematic oppression is real, NO ONE can enslave a soul. We will rise and raise our hands to the Savior because even though we were forced to learn His name by the colonizers using it in vain to massacre in the name of God He loves me and He loves you. The pictures of Jesus in our household will be of a Middle-Eastern Jewish man so that you can see how much love your brown eyes can hold.

Your grandparents will teach you about how they left their countries to come to the United States. Their children, your tios and tias are starting to crack the code, but I’m sorry. Your aunties and uncles are working hard to catch up to those who already had a spot reserved miles ahead of us on this stolen Native American land. We are learning how to survive, we are trying to break away from toxic cycles and flourish. I know that it is not enough my son, but we are doing our best with what we have. Know that we are doing this all for you.

Hijito lindo you are loved. You are SO LOVED. You are the perfect product made up of our history. The Lyberian and Mayan chiefdoms that are your birthright will walk before you as you face this world. There is so much work to be done so that you can live the life you deserve, free of racism, colorism, and pain. Oh how I wish I could protect you from all that you will experience.

I would stand between you and anything else. I would teach them what the texture of your hair is so that they don’t have the urge to touch it. I would teach them how to pronounce your name so that they don’t pause when calling roll. I would teach them who your father is so that you don’t have to prove your worth. I would teach them our languages so that they don’t stare as we talk in grocery stores.

I would teach them. I would teach them to judge a man by his actions, his heart, and his mind instead of his melanin count. Or better yet, I would teach them to not judge at all.

 You are everything to me. Know that. Know that you are loved beyond systemic oppression and hateful side-glances. Know that you are a King in the making and that you have me to hold you if ever the need comes.

Te amo,

Tu mami