Go back to Mexico, bitch!

i was walking down a main busy street in the new college where i had just started my new faculty position. i was happy as it was the first week of orientation. that day i was wearing my huipil, when suddenly i hear the voice of a boy yell, go back to Mexico, bitch! i turned around to see who had yelled but i didn't see anyone. are you okay someone asked

no, im not okay, i feel bien encabronada

but i also just stood there

taking it all in

maybe i feel numb to the words

that have followed me for generations

go back to where? you don't belong here

change your dress

change your vocabulary

change who you are

if you wish to be accepted

sense of belonging are words that echo through my head

build community and establish relationships

we are told

in this institution, in this territory. do i belong?

are we ready to see change

to accept difference

i honor my ancestors

i am reminded that phrases like

Go back to Mexico, bitch

proves that my existence

is our resistance