Citlally Torres

English 3 Honors Pd 15
Mr. Bowne
September 28, 2015

Una persona cut in two

What does it mean to be both Mexican and American? Certainly, not just two words
signifying where ones relatives were born and where one was born. To me it actually signifies
who we really are, one person with two different countries, dos diferentes culturas. Yesterday I
wondered how life would be if I were just Mexican or just American. I wouldnt have the
advantage of speaking two different languages for one. Pero eso no es el punto. Imagine
waking up one morning no longer knowing what el Dia de Los Reyes Magos is or any custom.
Or coming back from your friends no longer finding your seven other siblings in the house.
Imagine no longer seeing the diversity of people anywhere. Or no longer having that feeling of
freedom like a dog let off of its leash. Imagine no longer being able to move to the music you
love, both English and Spanish. Or no longer having the pleasure of meeting people who soon
are the ones who you trust everything with. Yo ya no pudiera saber who I am anymore. Not a
Citlally Torres for sure.
Que Dios te bendiga.Te quiero. Those are the last words I hear from my mother before
I head to school. I appreciate them so much, knowing that she cares about me by just looking in
her true momma bear eyes.
Hey Citlally! my friend Kylie says, causing me to look up. I wave to her and walk
towards her. Hacemos pltica mientras que esperamos. Homework. Art. Clubs. Upcoming tests.
School stuff in general.
Goodmorning. Our bus driver tells us. The bus moves on, stopping at every stop,
causing me to pick up my pencil from the drawing I am creating. Mas y mas mezcladas de
perfume waft past me as we keep going past houses and more houses.
Hey girl!! my friend Shubhangi exclaims.
Hey come with me to get lunch please. I ask her.
Sure!
The more the lunch lady seems to get closer, the stronger the aroma gets. The bread
looks smooch with the meat inside and the cheese dripping off the side onto the blue tray below.
We pass rows of tables until we reach the last table near the windows. Anjali, Kaushal, Shebang
and I all start eating our different lunches, packed or bought, from home or from school.
Have a good day, my afternoon bus driver tells me.
You too, I reply.

My brother and I start walking towards home. A dog starts barking in the distance and
the cars zoom by on route 73. Each going places, each going somewhere. My brother starts
skipping the front door steps by two. El abre la puerta and we both enter. A hint of the salsa
cooking on the stove tells me exactly what we have for dinner..ENCHILADAS!
Hola mami, I say.
Hola, como estuvo su dia hoy,
Bien, pero tengo tanta tarea,
Ay... pues deberas empezar,
After the coldness of water goes on my hands, a few moments later, I feel the warmth of
the caramel chair. My pen begins to glide on the paper in a slow motion and begins to quicken
as I concentrate more and more.
The day is done finally. School estaba ok and the enchiladas were delicious as always.
Miro afuera a el oscuro noche y a la luz de la luna. Two totally different things- dark and lightbut one at the same time. It makes we wonder what Id be if I were just one person without two
sides of life. I appreciate what I have and who I am because I am not only one person but
instead two halves equally one. One person split in two, not entirely Mexican and not entirely
American. One person split in two, not knowing entirely all Spanish or all English. One person
split in two, not entirely part of one world. And that person is me. Yo soy Mexicana-Americana
and I am Citlally Torres.