You see, mi abuela had no dreams. 
She told me, "Porque era 
Un tiempo diferente". 

Dreams were reserved for those 
Who were more than just survivors. 

Mi mama had a few dreams, 
Which she told me were from
"Un tiempo diferente, donde
Si eran posibles, pero no en mi vida". 

These are different times for me
Because I am a living dream. 

My dreams can come true,
And I have a lot of them. 

I have many dreams to 
Compenstate for the sueños de mi abuela's, 
Whose never developed, and for mi mama's sueños, 
Whose never came true. 

This is a different generation. 
So, I must dream, 
No mas pa mi, pero
Para ellas! 

My Inspiration:

Although I wrote this poem in April, I will always remember the writing process. For context, I had to create a project (of my choice) for my Latinas class. The project could be anything as long as it talked about Latinas. I decided to do my project on the world of Latina street vendors where I wrote a research paper, conducted my own interviews, and created posters highlighting the women I interviewed along with the poem you see above. You may ask, why street vendors? And I can only respond with, why not? 

Growing up, I always saw street vendors at every street corner, at every train station, and every time I would go anywhere in New York. It was so common that I never really thought to question it. A part of me was because I felt as if I ‘already’ knew why they wanted to be street vendors —at least I ‘knew’ based on what my family told me— and another part of me thought it was just ‘normal’ since it was something I saw since I was little. It wasn’t until that spring, that I saw more and more Latina street vendors with and without children during my commute to school and home. I have always been passionate about immigration and know that in the future I want to work in immigration services to provide the opportunities and services many migrants can’t have because of their supposed legal status. Coming from an immigrant household where the women in my family have various jobs from cleaning ladies to nannies, I wished I had asked sooner about their reasons why they decided to do the job they have now. I wished I had taken the time to ask them, actually ask them, why they think this is the only option they have. Just as I assumed my family’s reasons or had someone, other than themselves, tell me their reasons, many including myself, assumed and judged the reasons for Latina street vendors. Thus, in my project, I wanted to discover the hidden truth about Latina street vendors and know the reason(s) why they became street vendors. I wanted to give them the opportunity that they were robbed of and talk about themselves. But most importantly, and in all honesty, I wanted to let them talk about their dreams. 

My poem, suenos, highlights the truth many immigrant parents, especially mothers, had about their dreams: which is they never got to accomplish it or felt that they couldn’t. It’s about separating immigrant families from the generalized idea of the American Dream and instead asking them about their actual dreams. It’s about how we often hear about the dreams first-generation children have, but rarely so, of the dreams of our immigrant parents. However, it is also to highlight the immense pressure, or privilege, many first-generation children have in thinking they have to fulfill their parents’/families’ dreams too. I’ve also decided to include the 3 posters I made of the 3 street vending Latinas I’ve interviewed and who have truly inspired me to write this poem in the first place.

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