My mama told me that democracy was the freedom of choice.

She sat me between her legs, slathered jajoba oil on my thick, kinky hair, and began to twists the strands.

“Mija, let me tell you a thing or two about democracia.”

At 6, I didn’t understand. I could barely pronounce the word.

“Demo-cra-see-ah?”

“Democracia. Now pay attention. Democracia is the way of the righteous, the way of the honest and the true. It is all about choice.”

And she left it at that. She finished the twists as I began to drift off into a sea of thoughts and dreams about democracy. Imagine! A world where I could choose to eat dulce de leche for dinner, and play with my dolls and read books all day long. Democracia? Democracia.

My mama told me that Democracia meant representation.

I went to the toy store looking for a Spanish doll, complete with skin kissed by the sun, dripping in beautiful golden melanin. I looked for one with big lips like mine, a wide nose like mine, a full tummy like mine.

I went home to do my homework. “Memorize the names of the presidents.”

I say at my desk, and repeated the names of these white males that had lead our nation since its establishment as a republic. Washington, Jefferson, Kennedy, Johnson, Reagan, Bush. Where was Rodriguez or Gomez?

Democracia?

My mama told me that Democracia meant that the people had the power; the people had the control.

So why couldn’t I control decisions about my hair? Why is it that my kinky twists were deemed as ugly? Why is it that I went to the hair salon, to be told repeatedly “tu tienes el pelo muy malo”? What was so bad about my hair?

I spoke to mama about Democracia when she took me to get my hair relaxed. straightened. To make my hair acceptable and decent. She said that there were some things about Democracia that I didn’t understand.

I just don’t understand.

My mama told me that democracia meant safety and equality. So why am I being catcalled then slut shamed at the rejection of someone’s unsolicited lewd commentary? Why am I seen as inferior by male peers and male adults? Why are my breasts and hips curses? Porque mis senos y mi vientre, que dan vida, son vulgares?

These are the little things. The little actions, customs, and micro-aggressions that display the lack of democracia that faces my people everyday.

My mama told me that I deserved democracia. So why isn’t anyone giving it to me?

*The opinions and ideas expressed are solely those of the author, and do not reflect the opinions of The Bronx Brand*

Lu Perez is from the Eastchester section of the Bronx but currently resides in the Fordham area.  Being Latina and growing up in a predominantly Hispanic/Latinx community in the Bronx has been a great influence in the way she writes. Her appreciation for her Dominican heritage comes through in Lu’s work. From the slang, the open fire hydrants during the summer, the sticky streets and booming music have become pieces in the puzzle that forms Lu’s identity; these are the experiences that have had a profound effect on the way Lu perceives the rest of New York, and the world.