Forgotten

We, the women, gave you birth

We, the women, teach you how to live

We, the women, struggle since the beginning

We, the women, are tired.

 

As heroins we, the women, are forgotten

The recognition, never shows, never appears

Battles we fought, battles we win

We, the women, are tired.

 

The society, you protect, we battle

The power, you enjoy, we desire

The education, you waste, we beg

We, the women, are tired.

Roots

 

Through the various readings stories presented in This Bridge Called My Back, I notice one thing that was above all, and that was pride of being a Latina or a Black woman. I choose this picture because I believe that is the best representation of who I am as a person, not only as an Ecuadorian or as a mestiza, but as a Latina. I am proud of my roots, they represent freedom, and I am a free woman. Ecuador can be a third world country, but I am not a third world woman

 “I know what I am doing and you can’t scare me tough that’s why I am what I am” (Rosario Morales).

I can and I must tear apart all the shadows that surround me, shadows that tell me not to be proud and “move on” leaving my history and roots. I will always be a ecuatoriana orgullosa. Man can’t stop me, the world can’t stop me. The only thing that can stop me is me.