“To live in the borderlands means you are neither hispana india negra espanola, ni gabacha, eres mestiza, mulata, half-breed, caught in the crossfire between camps, while carrying all five races on your back, not knowing which side to turn to, run from…” – Gloria Anzaldua
—
To live in the borderlands means*
you are trapped in the intersection of a Venn Diagram.
Where the circle 1 and circle 2 overlap, you walk alone.
Meanwhile, onlookers behind the walls of either side watch from windows in confusion,
wrapped in a warm blanket called belonging.
In the borderlands,
you are stifled by wind from one side that whispers
“ghetto.”
while the snow from the other side stings your face and says,
“too white.”
To live in the borderlands means
you are always catching your breath.
For the angry black woman, sassy sidekick, thug, underachiever, welfare queen, the token,
and the blue and red lights
relentlessly chase you in and out of the overlap;
and their threats pin you down,
kneeling on the hollow of your throat.
It means you’re well-spoken, but you’ve abandoned your roots.
Rap music playing too loudly is suspicious, but your white music taste is a disgrace to your people.
You’re desired, but fetishized as exotic experience to be tried;
never to be savored.
To live in the borderlands,
you must understand that
you are feared.
That smiling faces that invite you to stay for dinner still don’t want you in the prom pictures or at the Thanksgiving table.
That your double-consciousness is forever and that you will eternally slip in and out of it
with blurred vision
and bruised knees from begging for acceptance.
That your lungs will burn from the never-ending marathon,
and that your ears will ache from not being able to put your hood up in the cold wind as you run.
You will come to find that in the borderlands,
an outsider may venture cavalierly into your territory and ask of the tight walls you reluctantly call home.
Pulling strength from your jaded heartache you will find your voice but,
lose it again
as you see the stars in the trespasser’s eyes dissolve into fear because
black and white are profanities,
and they are the terms that made them fear you in the first place.
You will come across a traveler, deaf to their microaggressive comments but when you
gut-wrenchingly,
agonizingly,
meticulously,
find a way to address your hurt
their shoulder will turn cold, your face will turn hot and
they will remember why they don’t travel beyond borders.
As they retreat to safety, the lesson you hate teaching going unlearned, you will feel anger.
Not at the traveler but,
at yourself
for admitting what the borderlands have cursed you with understanding.
But to live in the borderlands means
an un-paralleled omniscience.
It means standing alone with the knowledge to succeed in both worlds despite being scrutinized.
To survive the Borderlands
You must accept the overlap;
revel in both.
—
*Inspired by “To Live in the Borderlands” by Gloria Anzaldúa.