I See Brown

I come from a world where all around me I see brown, From the ground where the sound of working boots’ trudge would lull me to sleep, to the color of my skin, to the color of my eye. In my small pueblo we lived on a small house made of sticks and dirt where we ate and slept on soil, so I hope you understand when I tell you that I Can’t help it if all I see is brown.

My mother rubs my head as she counts her earnings by the sweat of her brow, her hands feel rough and jagged, her manicure is a sandy callus instead of a pretty dye. For you see, both she and I come from a world where all around me I see brown.

My dad comes home from work until way after the sun comes down, he smells of wood and dirt, but even though his muscles ache and strain, he rinses the sole of his only pair of working shoes and sets them off to dry. Slowly they drip, creating a small murky puddle, and I Can’t help it if all I see is brown.

Twenty or so years ago they came America bound, they walked the dessert with me in their arms until they came upon a rusty scary wall so tall it almost touched the sky. With fear in their hearts they marched through the night, not thinking as criminals but two parents who only wanted their child to have a better life, a safer life, because unfortunately, I come from a world were all around me I see brown.

They sacrificed their lives and family so that I could walk a stage dressed in a cap and gown, And from the tears that streaked down their Sunkissed cheeks, I could feel their joy and pride. Like most dreamers, I chase the hope to one day become an engineer of the building type that make buildings bridges and houses from a lot of land in which they envision what that empty pile of dirt can be; a beautiful home for two deserving parents who built so much out of so little and I think I’m quite good at it because after all I Can’t help it if all I see is brown

“They’re bringing drugs they’re bringing crime, they’re rapists.” Once said a clown. But remember there are two sides of a story and my parents stand as testimonies to these lies. You can stand there and judge their actions as wrong or right, but to me they brought options, opportunities, and better quality of life to their young child who was able to grow up in a melting pot of colors thanks to those same actions you deem un-right. I may be biased but I can’t see how an action that was made from love could ever be wrong but then again, I’m color blind because I come from a world where all around me I see brown, Can’t help it if all I see is brown.