I grew up in Argentina. You could say I grew up in a suburb of Italy.
Argentina is full of descendants from Italians as well as Spanish, Jews and the sporadic German and English. We also have some people who are natives, but most try to associate with people of European origin.

The point is, growing up, we would call each other El Gordo (the fat one), Negro (the Black one, although it usually meant someone with black hair, as people with dark skin were scarce), Flaco/Flaca (the skinny one) and so on.

I think there’s a lot about intentionality. The United States has such a history that, I don’t know what to say. A great country, but every now and then you catch some idiot who happens to be a closet racist and will make your life impossible.

But yes. We are so insecure in ourselves that no one can stand in his/her own two feet. I mean, we need to own ourselves and stop waiting for everyone else’s approval.

Great piece, Kira. And I insist, either you or someone else needs to turn your poems into lyrics.
Pablo