I come from a mixed heritage. My father is a first generation Mexican-American born in Nevada. My grandparents both born in Mexico. My mothers side of the family are Italian although all have passed on. I learned first hand from my grandmother (mothers mother) racism even though my complexion is light and I could past as white at first glance I always stood out and was made to feel less than.

When my mother died when I was ten years old my grandmother got custody of me and I went to live with her when I was eleven years old. It was then that I was made to realize I was different in my families eyes. Grandmother called me a bastard half breed and would look at me with disgust when I yawned telling me to hold my nostrils shut so that my nose wouldn't spread all over my face. Grandmother would never allow me to touch or hug her and this left me feeling very raw and hurt inside as I didn't understand why she treated me this way.

When I asked my grandmother who my dad was and where he was she would reply; "Don't worry about that niger as he is no good." I only understood that niger was associated with blacks as back in the 1960's Blacks were considered as coloreds or niggers both words I have come to dislike immensely. So I grew up believing I was half Black and half White. A self hatred began which I didn't even understand.

When my father sent for me when he was able to I was fourteen years old. I left New York City and the street life I had chosen to get away from my grandmother and her derogatory remarks. Upon meeting my Father and Aunt Lucy who was also my Godmother at the San Francisco Airport I was confused by their appearance as they didn't look Black. My Aunt Lucy however did have that beautiful Indigenous dark brown skin tone that I came to love and wish I had been born with.

I was still lost as I didn't fit into this Mexican culture at all and I stood out like a sore thumb. I didn't speak Spanish or Mexican and I had no ties to my Mexican culture. Dad would try to instill a pride in me by telling me about my Grandmother (his mother) and I would love to hear about her soldier years in Mexico when she was a part of Villa's army. I was not able to meet my grandmother as she passed away before I was born. My Grandfather Papa Kiki spoke very little English and so it was hard to communicate with him unless my dad translated.

I once again turned to the street life and drugs trying to drown my low self esteem and lack of self worth as a direct result of having no connection with my beautiful and rich culture. Being a product of mixed blood and learning racism first hand from my own family members. This lead to a long and very dark, lonely path of trying to find who I was. The street life failed me and wore me down. I was in and out of institutions as a result of my rebel and unruly behavior. I would always hear the term "Problem Child" when anyone was referring to me and my behavior.

I tried to turn my life around but with no real roots or an understanding of who I was and from where I came I had a very hard time. The words mixed breed and bastard child always rung in my mind and made me feel less than. Drugs and drinking were my respite or so I thought and when they turned on me I had no other options but to try something else. I tried to dip into my culture with no real education of it through my music. However what came out was more of a reggae funk sorta thing rather than anything of Indigenous culture.

It wasn't until I did a 360 degree turn about and began looking into my beautiful Indigenous roots that I came face to face with the real woman and the beauty and richness that I came from even though I was of mixed heritage. I learned and am still learning of our vast culture, the beauty, wealth, intelligence and scholarly structure in which our once beautiful civilization had once been and can be again. I know first hand what happens to a person's soul when they have no real identity and or self awareness of whom they are. I know first hand what the consequences and set backs are for a child not being nurtured and given pride of whom and where they come from. Lack of self awareness leads to a very dark and lonely path. One who doesn't know who they are or from where they come will not know where they are going.

Today I know who I am and where I come from, as I now know where I am going. I am a woman, I am a Mexican Indigenous woman and I am a survivor of a cultureless America. I am embracing my beautiful culture while educating myself so that in turn I may be an asset to my own beautiful people. I write poetry as I was gifted with this wonderful talent. It was when I first began writing poetry in my early twenties that something within me began unfolding which lead me to where and who I am today.