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I am THAT Salvadoran

I am THAT Salvadoran who doesn’t like pupusas.

I am THAT Salvadoran who doesn’t dance cumbias.

I am THAT Salvadoran who refused to have a quinceañera because I always disliked dresses and pink shit.

I am THAT Salvadoran who prefer tattoos to make-up.

I am THAT Salvadoran who is always marginalized from parties because I am the weird one adorned with black outfits.

I am THAT Salvadoran who wishes to undo the religious sacraments imposed on me.

I am THAT Salvadoran who makes my parents embarrassed when they introduce me to their middle-class friends back home because I refuse to talk about where I’ve been or what I do professionally.

I am THAT Salvadoran who refuses to use their parents’ immigration story to get scholarships.

I am THAT Salvadoran who has learned more from the margins than the centre.

I am THAT Salvadoran who follow the teachings of people whose actions speak louder than words and the obsession to be recognized.

I am THAT Salvadoran whose at dinner parties want to talk more about deforestation and climate change than the fancy barrio your family is from in El Salvador.