Author, Come What May, Laura Diaz, Laura A. Diaz, freelance writer,They Call Me Blanca by Laura A. Diaz,
"As a teenager I clearly remember mornings when I was getting ready for school when
 would -just still me- and 
I would lean forward and peer very intensely into the eyes of the girl in that mirror. 
who is that? I didn't know .
 I looked into those eyes as if they had the answer to who I am 
or who I could be. 
So I would search the depths of those green and blue flecked eyes. 
Calmly searching the eyes of this stranger
 as if I thought that if I looked deep enough, 
or long enough, I would find the answer to why I was even here. 
I didn't know what I know now. 
That I could only find out my  true identity, 
who I was 
when I stopped 
looking into my own eyes 
and instead searched in the eyes of Jesus. 
Only He could REALLY tell me who I am. 
Who I can be. Who I will be..." 
— Laura A. Diaz

 *I didn't write this poem, but as you know, I'm a voracious reader.  I stumbled upon this poem written by a young "Latina." It speaks of the struggle for self-identity that  this generation has to face.
Child of the Americas
by Aurora Levins Morales*

I am a child of the Americas,
a light-skinned mestiza of the Caribbean,
a child of many diaspora, born into this continent at a crossroads.
  I am a U.S. Puerto Rican Jew,
a product of the ghettos of a New York I have never known.
An immigrant and the daughter and granddaughter of immigrants.
I speak English with passion: it’s the tongue of my consciousness,
a flashing knife blade of crystal, my tool, my craft.

I am Caribeña, island grown. Spanish is in my flesh,
Ripples from my tongue, lodge in my hips:
the language of garlic and mangoes,
the singing of poetry, the flying gestures of my hands.
I am of Latinoamerica, rooted in the history of my continent:
I speak from that body.

I am not African.
 Africa is in me, but I cannot return.
I am not taína.
 Taíno is in me, but there is no way back.
I am not European.
 Europe lives in me, but I have no home there.

I am new. History made me. My first language was spanglish.
I was born at the crossroads

and I am whole.

*Aurora Levins Morales writes for those struggling to find their identities and their voices - and speaks on issues pertaining to history and the multicultural experience (Santiago).
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