Becoming American

We are first to cover our hearts
with our hands, sing “My Country,
’Tis of Thee,” and wear la Americana flag shorts.
We swap Medalla for Budweiser. Go to Shoney’s
and order the all-you-can eat breakfast. No one
cares if we waste food as long as we leave a decent
tip and speak quietly. Leave La Isla’s conversaciones
at the kitchen table. We are encouraged to buy the biggest
trucks and waste gas. Take over the road and parking
spaces. People make way when they see us. What kind
of horsepower do you get? They admire strength.
We are told not to ask those back home to send us
pique and café. We should tamper our tongues
and get the mild options. We go to Starbucks
and get wild concoctions like unicorn berry frappuccino.
Everything tastes too sweet. But this, they say,
is the American way. Sugar. Sugar. More sugar.
Our coworkers just go ahead and call us JL
and AE because they butcher our real names
Josefa Luz and Agapito Efraín. Everyone goes by some
initials anyway, they claim. Look at JFK and MLK.
Juanito is Buddy. Everyone here gets a nickname too.
We are forgetting the cuentos about the iguana thief.
Now, it’s blah, blah, blah about parking as wide
as bedrooms. Rows and rows of different types
of water in stores. Community meetings with five
different types of cake and strawberry swirl ice cream.
Everything is so sweet, but they give us plates
swathed in foil. It is the American way.
Some signs say English only, no Spanish allowed.
There is the look to keep our rolling rrrrrs to ourselves.
Pronounce rice so that it doesn’t sound like fries.
Remember it’s soup or salad (not super salad).
And delete the word focus from our vocabulary
(it always sounds like fuck us). The waiter smiles
when we leave a nice tip. Because tipping is the American
way. Please come again. Take some mints. Here are the toothpicks.
Goodies on the way out. How nice. How American.
The junk mail is bigger and brighter. The flyer
from the neighborhood dentist pops orange in chili pepper
font with promises to make teeth white, white, white!
The flyer comes with a coupon, a special, something
on sale. How can it be any more American than that?

From In Inheritance of Drowning (CavanKerry Press, 2024). Copyright © 2024 by Dorsía Smith Silva. Reprinted with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC, on behalf of CavanKerry Press.