NYU Black Renaissance Noire NYU Black Renaissance Noire Volume 16.2: Fall 2016 - Page 29
By Ammon Medina
Towards That Other Continent
If I leaned forward far enough to slip into the mirror , would I send ripples scattering across the shimmer when
my brown face melts into my brown face ? If I jam my tongue into the syllables of el linguaje de my padre would the soundwaves
shake the fault lines loose so I could slide away from this nation and sail toward the dark continent on the horizon , Ecuador .
And if I did sail without spinning down in a whirlpool , if I kept my hands cupped around my eardrums not to succumb to the current
pulling me back , would mine be the arrival of the foreigner or the homecomer ?
Before we proceed any farther I think I should tell you
I ’ m white , at least partially . Should tell you , when the boys joked in high school about my future being a migrant worker in the fields ,
I laughed along . I laughed along when I said I ’ m half Ecuadorian , and they said Mexican , anything south of the border is Mexican .
So if I cut an opening into my chest cavity and insert coins of plantain , knead sand from the shore into the muscle and pour lava from the volcano
that sends shadows over Quito into my marrow , then let the magma of the land flow into me , let the histories be tattooed on my skin to be read by you .