Orange in his Hand
I see two men sweat at the exit of the freeway.
One is brown and burnt from the sun rays the other is white with an American Flag stitched across his trucker hat.
They both wear dirty clothes. They both burn to hold a little green.
One sells oranges, walking up and down the street. One holds a sign that reads, âIâm hungry, help me eat.â I feel for both of them, but I only admire one.
The one who hands oranges in bags to tired faces, who chases cars for his change, who counts pennies as profit to keep his apartment.
The one whose wife wakes before sunrise to walk through Los Angeles streets yelling âtamales, tamalesâ with a 4 year old daughter at her side.
The mother who crossed over 4 years earlier so her daughter wouldnât have to sell tamales with a baby at her side.
The father tells his son never to beg, but to work hard for the bread. So the son sells Cheetos at his high school and gets called beaner for not owning named brand clothes. A son who must bring dollars before good grades because rent is two weeks late. A son who will one day hold a gun to the head of a liquor store clerk, only to remember his fatherâs words.
Mijo, work hard for the bread.
Rent is two weeks late so the family breaks tax laws to make jobs and they lifts roses to the sky hoping someone passing by is falling in love again, so the family takes elotes to the neighborhood projects hoping the ninos are hungry.
The news says this family is here to take my job, my seat in school, my country, but the only thing theyâre taking is the risk of being handcuffed, broken and deported in the name of family in the name of love in the name of trying everything to stay above the current and that is why I canât help
But to admire the man with an orange in his hand, a fireball of hunger in his palm.
I love my people. We are hard workers and we never beg for money. How often do you see a Latino beggar? Exactly, itâs rare. Why? Because we work for our money. If it means selling flowers, corn, fruit, ice cream, whatever it is, we WORK for it. We donât ask for anything for free. All we want is a better future for our families and we are willing to work for it! So how are you going to say we donât belong in this country of opportunity when we actually take advantage of that opportunity and WORK for a better life instead of fuckin standing at a corner of a McDonaldâs waiting for someone to drop a coin or two into a fuckin cup?
