I wonder what a chief of the Taino tribe would say if he could see his people now. Would he recognize me as one of his own? Would his tribal tongue make sense of my broken Spanish? What if he could follow me around for an entire day? I imagine him standing behind me in class while I place a check next to a box that reads “Other”. I picture us walking home from school and the look on his face when he sees that my village is made up of concrete and brick. I like to pretend that at the end of that day he would break the language barrier; that he would put one hand on his chest, one hand on mine, and say, “Boricua”.
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