Let’s begin this prayer in the only way I know how:

En el nombre del padre, y del hijo, y del espiritu santo.
Amen.

Brothers and sisters,this- is a prayer for liberation.

How many of you have seen a Dominican flag?

 Did you know that the Dominican flag is the only flag in the world with a bible on it?
The red and blue on our flag meet at a central point, separated by an axis of the purest white in the shape of a cross.
Make no mistake. This axis is no coincidence.

I live for a flag that’s red white and blue, but not the one that spits on me and simultaneously identifies me as sp*k, and n*igger, and f*ggot- or negrita, if I’m lucky. It often tells me “you are only as good as the whiteness that is inside of you.”

So what do you do when these social constructions construct the way you see the world?
You see, I’ve come to know who I am through a foggy lens clouded by a milky, suffocating whiteness turned red with the blood of my ancestors.
But I’ve come to learn that I am not defined by the faith the godless imposed on my people. I am not defined by the bendicion mami I greet my mother on the phone with every time we speak.
Instead, I am defined by the might passed down to me that could not be killed by the colonizers gaze. I am defined by thick thighs and a rumbling tummy, by arms wide enough and strong enough to carry the weight of my pueblo.
I am the tambores and heavy percussion of the palos and perico ripiao native to my patria.
In the same way la virgencita, Mary, stepped on the head of the serpent, I strike out the colonizers venomous attempt to smother me with the unholy rite of self hate.

My people know better. We know to look within for God. He is there, waiting to light a fire inside you.
Remember that, comrades, the next time you say a prayer.
This has been una oracion for liberation.

In the name of the father and of the son and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.

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.

Be sure to follow her on instagram: @theblkmariposa