My name symbolizes my parents embrace of the American Dream
Even if it was only memorialized through the calling of my name
Jennifer…
In a way they would never be accepted,
I would be welcomed and assimilated
They must of thought,
She’ll be able to easily navigate spaces
With this clandestine identity,
I left no ‘illegal’ identity traces
Except in my speech,
Where I lived
and all my traditional bases
They must’ve wished that masked my dreams could be achieved
But the name always felt estranged to me
As it did to their tongue,
Always shortening my name to yeny
In my professionalization I ’d prohibit people from calling me Jen
Finding ways to disapprove because the name didn’t resonate with my roots
As if Jennifer was closer to my origin
Why couldn’t they name me Maria Dolores after my mom
I guess this settlement was for my self-preservation
But I must be upfront,
I’ve benefited from this contradiction
Except my identity has been lost in my name’s counterfeit diction
Nearly thirty years later
I’ve learned to wear this name as a testimony of the 90s immigrant generation
J.Mar
JMar 