I am from a dance studio
Cluttered and chaotic yet calming
From finger smudged mirrors and bloody pointe shoes
The soft, satin ribbons have begun to fray

I am from the hill I glide down with my brother
The wind whooshes and whirls
When a blanket of white weighs down the grass

I am from sleepless nights and hospital stays
From the salty tear streaks that have dried on my face
to  cramps from laughing for hours on end

I am from my grandmother fleeing Europe
To the bullet that pierced my grandfather in the war
I am from the overachieving nature of my mother
And the lavender breeze that dances behind her wherever she goes

I am from the aunt I’ve never had the pleasure of knowing
And from others who I wish I never met

I am from my father
The man who migrated here and now lives as free as a bird
And for that I am forever grateful

I am from the underrepresented
I am from the secret heroes of the world