AR MEXICO ,
“ AFTER BRUCE CONNER ’ S SEÑORITA ” BY RIE LEE
EE YOU FROM A
Dear Mexico ,
STANCE . BRUCE
I see you from a distance . Bruce thinks you look like a serial killer ’ s wall :
matted hair pinned to canvas with a comb above a floral cross .
INKS YOU LOOK LIKE A
It should remind me of something significant ,
something distinctly identifiable as a Mexican upbringing ,
RIAL KILLER ’ S WALL :
but all I can think of are my grandmother ’ s floral couches before she replaced them when I was in middle school — now they ’ re these beige , fancy things you see in Crate and Barrel
ATTED HAIR PINNED TO
and later in the home of a white middle class stay-at-home-slash-part-time-interior-designer trophy wife .
NVAS WITH A COMB
But they ’ re in my grandma ’ s house , where I can still smell
OVE A FLORAL CROSS .
faint wisps of summer — of chlorine and sunscreen , and the wet-flour scent of tortillas in progress —
SHOULD
can almost feel the warm water over my hands
REMIND
, the lard slippery with the dough —
E OF
and smell the cinnamon
SOMETHING
she would let us put on the tortillas after she cooked them . Butter under the cinnamon ,
GNIFICANT
and then we got creative with sprinkles .
,
It ’ s the closest I get to Mexico , that place that ’ s supposed to be
METHING DISTINCTLY
coursing through half my blood . My Spanish is European from my mother ,
Californian from my upbringing . My hair is loose and frizzy
ENTIFIABLE AS A
unlike the other Mexican girls ’ at school , slicked-back and braided ,
neat and sleek . And still I bore the name Castro ,
EXICAN UPBRINGING ,
the questions about my relation to Cuba , the squints at me from people who think I ’ m white but also sort of don ’ t . I ’ m a chameleon , blending into the background anywhere I go —
T ALL CAN
I ’ m part-Jewish , part-Asian , part-Armenian , part-Italian , part-Something , where ’ s your accent from ? I can ’ t tell . But they don ’ t know I ’ m part-nothing ,
INK OF ARE MY not really Mexican and not really European , but it ’ s cliché
ANDMOTHER ’ S
to call myself just – American . When they ask what I am , I want to say : Cinnamon . Oh , Mexico , I don ’ t recognize your colors in the frame . ORAL COUCHES
Your faded pastels and burnt-rose fabrics don ’ t call my name — and who would recognize me anyway , now that I ’ ve shed
FORE
all ties with you under the
SHE
disguise of Lee ?
REPLACED
24 ART CHOWDER MAGAZINE