Who Am I?

Questioning my ethnicity

 

                     Who Am I

 

For years confusion reigned,                Spanish was not allowed,

     Quite deep inside my mind.                  Although our English stunk.

But answers never rained,                    But we’ve always been proud

     And I’m still in a bind.                             Of our chicano spunk.

 

Our ancestors, I’m sure,                         Our lives had gone quite sour.

     Were Mexicans by birth.                         We could not see the light.

And our line is still pure,                         So we fought for Brown power.

     But we don’t now its worth.                    And now our path looks bright.                 

 

Forever people called                              “Chicano” is certainly in,

     Us “dirty Mexicanos”.                                Although I still must find

And we were quite appalled’                   A satisfactory “Fin”

    For we’re Americanos                                 To troubles in my mind.

 

Most teachers got upset                            “Chicano” I do not like!

     When Spanish we would speak.                I am a mexicano!

But we would never fret,                            But I will go on strike

     For we were very meek.                              And call myself mexico-americano