AS WE DO the work of decolonization, it is difficult to separate and distill who we are into one generational lineage. We cannot pick and choose the biological ancestors who are responsible for our existence in this terrestrial plane and time. I have struggled with acknowledging and accepting that my bloodlines are made up of oppressed and oppressor. Healing, true healing, is facing truths that many of us want to run away from. This poem, “Divine Right,” reveals my process of facing realities that do not sit comfortably with me and that I am learning to embrace. Yet to heal, we need to acknowledge that just as we are not a monolith of culture, neither were our ancestors. We do the work to heal transgenerational trauma because we are the ancestors of future generations. As we take on this responsibility to heal our lineage, we must look into our own Obsidian Mirrors to see how we can make changes that will benefit generations to come.
Self love is my Divine Right.
El quererme a mí is an act of ancestral healing donde el amor es bálsamo to the generational trauma de mi linaje.
Donde tomar el tiempo to sit with bloodlines of colonizer and colonized fuck with my perception of what is right.
Where feeling shame at the pale skin I can’t hide is a reminder of the rape my grandfathers subjected my abuelitas to.
En mi para esta destrucción.
En mi hay possibility of healing the hurt that spills into coraje, resentment, and hardness.
My heart is clay—maleable, soft, and smelling of wet earth.
My veins carry shards of obsidiana cutting wounds of, “no me olvides.”
My throat holds centuries of pride, holding in cantos left in silence to survive.
My eyes hold years of tears refusing to fall por orgullo.
My hands are stained with blood and shame.
My soul is tortured with gross violence inflicted por la sed of the conquest.
I am my ancestors’ wildest dreams not because I am a guerrera.
But because in me there is hope of “maybe.”
En mi se encuentran el conquistado y el conquistador.
En mi hay el susurrar de “a la mejor se puede.”
In me is a battle refusing to hide living a duality.
En mi están la duda de quién soy y la pregunta de quién seré.
Porque al amarme I honor those who came before me.
When I heal my abuela, sano a mi madre, al sanar mi madre sano yo, al sanar yo sana a mi hija y al sanar mi hija sana mi linaje.
I love myself as an act of defiance,
Porque una bastarda como yo shouldn’t be digna of self love.
But a bitch’s lineage is strong, and she loves herself despite being told she can’t.
Because to love myself is a radical act of revolution where those at war in my bloodlines are allowed to release centuries of hate and rabia.
Self love is my Divine Right.
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Thank you. Gracias. Tlazocamati.