Pride

Friday, September 16, 2011

Early in the morning I am awaken by the sounds of trumpets and drums.  I didn’t get to bed until 2 am this morning because I wanted to watch the celebration on TV in Mexico City and as a result the loud music is a surprise so early in the morning.  I rush to the window in my pajamas to watch the local school children all lined up and marching to various Mexican patriotic songs in honor of Mexico’s 201 years of independence.  Young and old people march down the streets in their school uniforms and various costumes. People cheer and clap as the parade passed by them.  I can’t help but wonder how many of those parades I would have participated in if I has stayed here as a child.  When I was in the second grade I was in charge of carrying the flag every morning at school for our daily pledge of allegiance.  I used to love how the drummer next to me carried the tune we all marched to.  Being back here in my grandmothers home makes me remember what my childhood was like because I remember having one up until I was seven and everything changed.  I snap myself out of those painful memories and hurry back to my room and get dressed in a white tank top and a festive Mexican flower necklace adorned with the colors of the flag, green, white and red.  I go about my day through out the town and watch as everyone going by me is wearing the colors in some way or another I am glad I didn’t overdress and fit right in.  The last thing I want to do is draw attention to myself.  I sit in a park bench and watch the people go about their lives and I can’t help but wonder when will mine start?