To those who see me

By Kaitlyn Byer

Layers of my ghostly flesh 
Cremated by the tones of 
My culture

I am no longer a who 
But a what

What are you?
A gringo showing up to our parranda 
With her colonizer blood 

Mami bears the weight 
Of marrying a white man 
Of failing to teach me her mother tongue  
So maybe I could learn to fit the 
Puzzle pieces of my pedigree into a world that 
Makes sense

A world that constantly questions if I really deserve
All the accomplishments that man or woman or God has ever handed to me on a perfect silver platter. 

Or am I just white?

“White passing.”
As though I dont have enough arroz con pollo inside my veins 
For a single being to deem me cultured—

Because white people have no culture
We are bland, tasteless, soulless creatures
Who only care about trampling native lands with our own paper-skinned feet. 

So to those who only see the pasty white washed gringa in front of you
You’re right
I should know my place…

That’s what you want me to say right?

Kaitlyn Byer is a teen writer who aspires to be published one day. She is 16 years old and attends Orange County School of the Arts in Orange County California as a member of the Creative Writing Conservatory. Some of her favorite activities include playing golf and participating and STEM-related extracurriculars such as Science Olympiad. She loves to specialize in writing creative nonfiction works that relate to her own life, as memories are her greatest inspiration. She hopes to allow others to experience the real and raw feelings that she draws from when creating her pieces.