Native

A poem that spans generations. Of all the things lost in the conquest of the new world, and in the destruction of the old.

Native

(Wanderers of the Generations)

By

Carlos Lorenzo Estrada 

How does the world see me

Invisible shackled restrained 

My colors have barriers unspoken 

Within society's silent indifference 

In this pigmentation is proclamation 

That I am both oppressor and oppressed 

For the heights I climb have limits; boundaries 

In the way I'm seen; defined 

I'm of two cultures, the dying indigenous 

and the foreign usurper 

Forced to love a God that pities me

while compelled to forget the ancestral ones that are lost

There is no home anymore; it has long since been taken

To wander without borders; proud, native, free

Author's Note

Though brief this poem speaks with an expanse of generations. The destruction of the many indigenous cultures native to the Americas. I find myself writing again about this plight because of its personal impact upon my own life and those past generations affected by it. Some within this modern society wish to purge this part of history from the past. Reclamation in the understanding of what was taken and lost is the only way to find both absolution and atonement for the persecutors, and peaceful harmony for the persecuted. The erasure of this truth can never be allowed, for to do so is to be complicit to the atrocities that it has wrought. CLE

Reviews

[Ken e Bujold]

this is as splendid a poem as I have read in quite some time. I was gobsmacked by the power that flows from the simplicity of lines and diction while containing such deep almost unanswerable dichotomies. While we all have fault lines that run through our lives, bits we simply can't quite synchronize, few of us can so succinctly put them to words. Great poem Carlos

Ken e

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you, Ken, for sharing your thoughts on this piece. It was a very personal and revealing poem. As I explained to Fabian in the comment below this piece originated from an event that took place back in 1970 when I first started kindergarten. The old wounds I carry bled themselves into these words. I thank you for taking the time to read and comment on this piece. I truly appreciate it.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

This is a fantastic piece Carlos and I wish I had found it sooner. It's so real and important, speaking truth and equity in measure. This is the sort of thing I feel poetry is meant to do; to say things that fill the cup of life full from the bottoms of our hearts and souls and reach out to touch and teach others what it means to be human. Excellent write.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you, Fabian, I really appreciate the kind comment you have left. This contemplative piece still haunts me at times. Because it speaks to the myriad aspects of my roots. My lineage can be traced to the indigenous people of the Americas, and also the Spanish conquerors who destroyed much of those cultures. And it expands through generations that lead a small child to stand defiant against a kindergarten teacher. When that child stood before a classroom of other children and proclaimed, "I am American." While the teacher said, "No, you are Mexican. " in her ignorance not knowing I was born in the States with roots from Guatemala, Spain, Mexico, and indigenous blood as well. I still remember my mother having to come from work to apologize to the teacher for my outburst. I learned than as a 5 yr old I would always be seen less than American. I wrote this specifically for that 5 yr old boy who haunts me still, and the other children who have had to endure that similar indignity. It is a scar that runs deep that I still carry. Thank you again for your kind thoughts my friend.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

You are an American and that 5 year old child was an American and that kindergarten teacher was an obtuse imbecile. Your mother should have made that point clear both to you and the teacher. I certainly would have. My ancestry is from Scotland Ireland, and Wales. But I am neither Scot, Irish or Welsh. I too, am an American.

[clarkleblanc]

"That I am both oppressor and oppressed " This sentence caused quite a challenge in my thinking. Is it because of oppression that he becomes an oppressor? This is really not cool. lolbeans.
[drift f1](https://driftf1.io)

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me as well as opening a dialogue on a very important subject. I tend to leave the interpretation of my work up to the reader. How it makes them feel is how the words may ruminate within their thoughts and heart. The line you chose to me has great significance because history reveals that in the conquest of the Americas the conquistadors and English Europeans raped, pillaged, and subjugated many of the native American tribes. Thus mixing their blood as well as forcing upon them their faith and culture. Those mestizo people carry within them the blood of their oppressor as well as their indigenous forefathers. Most never being fully accepted by either cultures because of what they are deemed as mix inferior race. I myself am of mix blood from the indigenous people of Guatemala and Mexico regions as well as the Spanish who conquered much of the lands of the Americas. I was born here in the United States and do not speak Spanish. Yet, in the few times when I have traveled into Mexico I'm treated with a bit of disdain and indifference. Inferior because I'm not really seen as pure blood. It is this idea that caused me to reflect upon my origin. I carry within my DNA both these diametrically opposing cultures. There is a sorrow there to know that at some point my ancestors native to these lands were raped by my European forefathers. I am not truly welcomed by either culture because of my mixed blood and even less welcomed here in the United States despite me being 3rd generation American. Though I'm sure my bloodline has been here in these continents for much longer. I hope I had adequately answered your important question. And I really appreciate you taking the time to read this poem and comment on the work.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I see you as a poet, Carlos. Simply, as a poet...and a really good one.
j.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you so very much J for this truly meaningful comment. I can't begin to tell you how much I admire and respect you as both a talent and artistic poet. And above all else a friend. You are such a prolific writer I feel at times we truly take for granted the work we are blessed to read of yours. You are an example of what it takes to be a writer and to work everyday on one's art. You are selfless, humble, and encouraging. As well as a pretty damn good writer. Your work teaches me how to ply my craft and work even harder to sharpen my voice. I had mostly been a short story writer but when I discovered this website and began reading the poetry of many of the talents here I wanted to try my hand at that. I say this with all the gratitude I can muster because it's the truth. I'm improving much because of you as a poet and the influence you give by the art you share. So much thought, structure, and heart goes into the poetry you submit, my friend. It not only inspires, but teaches this vital art form. I say this wholeheartedly with gratitude that I can't thank you enough for showing me what it takes to be a good poet and to trust in my voice. Whether one person reads my work or a hundred I am eternally grateful because when it comes down to it all that truly matters is the art, and love we have for it. You exemplify this truth. Thank you, always, my friend and amazing poet. CLE