BIO
Victoria García: Though I don’t know my story yet, I know I am meant to create one. I am currently eighteen years old. I was born on February 26, 1999 in Houston, Texas. Although the highest grade I earned in any English class I have taken was a high B average, writing has become one of my more favored hobbies. Ever since the second grade, when my class was assigned to write poems to present in front of everyone, I became interested in writing. From poems to mindless drabbles, the older I became the more I wrote. To me, writing is a way to expand and connect; you can create different worlds or just reveal your own. It was not until just recently I realized what I wanted to do for a living. I will be attending university soon in hopes of graduating with a major in English and a Professional Writing concentration. I wish to be an author or even an editor. I also hope to someday connect and inspire people with my writing.
Mr. President
Mr. President, may I speak?
Can you give me that decency?
‘Cause I’ve seen how you’ve treated my people
I’ve heard what you think about people like me
You say you want America great again
I can’t think of a time in the books it was
‘Cause I’m one quarter Native American
And three Hispanic
So this land was mine before Columbus thought to sail it
Yet there you stand behind a podium
Saying “send them back, the rapists and the terrorists”
But you seem to forget white is the original illegal immigrant
And you say we’re pretty great
But this country was built on genocide and slavery
You say we’re moving forward
If that’s so why does it feel we’re back in time
Before Civil Rights
Before Dr. King
And before “Muslim Ban” could even be a serious thing
You’re single handily supporting racism
Even though I’m sure if we walked in
A person of color is hired to clean your expensive estates
And you’d be paying much below minimum wage
You say they’re stealing jobs
But guess who is hiring them
This country isn’t by the people, for the people
It’s by the wealthy, for the white
And I’m tired of seeing people like I
Called names and shoved into fights
I’m tired of seeing people of different religion
Told “no, you can’t come in”
Because their god isn’t that of the favored “majority”
That why we’re known only as “minorities”
But we’re people
Breathing, living, and desperately trying
to get our voices over the white noise
Mr. President, please sit down, quit squirming in your seat
I know it’s hard for you to hear from a woman like me
Especially when I say you’re ruining my country
The one my ancestors lived on
Raised families on
Let me back track, you’re not ruining it
Not completely
You’re revealing and igniting it
Racism has always been there like serpents
on darkened streets
But we avoided it by closing windows and saying prayers
Now they’re out of their cages
Causing more chaos than the people you seem to fear
And you forgive them
Only cause they’re just like you
Mr. President, my people belong here
Just as much as you think you do