My Taino people would love me, from my plump lips to my curly hair. My African people would love me from the rhythm in my hips to the powerful thoughts in my mind. My Spanish people, they might deny me, but I can’t deny them. They are in my language, they are on my skin. They took over my ancestry, and hijacked my history. They came in as unsolicited “saviours,” and attempted to rob us, but we are resilience. Our roots run strong and deep. I ask myself, “should I identify with you?” And in this manner they attempt to grab hold of me, and control me, but they cannot. I am free. Though I must accept their language as my own, my soul is AFRO LATINA. It runs through my veins and propels me forward through anything that may come my way.