Afro-Latina
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
Spanish (Latino)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Afro Latina, the Elizabeth Azevedo. Afro Latina, Kamina conmigo salsa swagger anywhere. She goes, Asuka dance to the rhythm. Beat the drums of my skin afro descendant. The rhythms within the first language I spoke was spanish learned from lullabies whispered in my ear. My parents tongue was a gift which I quickly forgot. After realizing my peers did not understand it. They did not understand me. So I rejected habitue ella in Mongu much preferring happy meals and big Macs, straightening my hair an imitation of barbie. I was embarrassed by my grandmother's colorful skirts and my mother's broke e english, which cracked my pride when she spoke. So she, I would poke fun at her myself, hoping to lessen the humiliation, proud to call myself american, a citizen of this nation. I hated caramel colored skin, cursed God. I'd been born the color of cinnamon. How quickly we forget where we come from. So remind me remind me that I come from the hyenas of the rio, the Aztec, the mayan los Incas los espanoles, buscando oro and the Europa africa knows I know I come from stolen gold from cocoa from sugar cane. The Children of slaves and slave masters. A beautifully tragic mixture assange cocoa of a race history and my memory can't seem to escape. Thought of lost lives and indigenous rate of bittersweet bitterness. The feeling in eight. The soul of the people past, present and faith. Our stories cannot be checked into boxes. They are in the forgotten, the undocumented the past down spoonfuls of arroz con dulce there. The way our hips skip to the beat of cumbia salsa. They're in the bending and blending of backbones. We are reformed and reformed beings. It's in the sway of our song. The landscapes of our skirts, The Asuka are beneath our tongues. We are the unforeseen Children. We're not a cultural wedlock hair too kinky for spain to way before dreadlocks. So our palms tell the cuentos of many tierras. Read our lifeline birth of intertwine, moonbeams and star shine. We are every ocean crossed Northstar, navigates our waters. Our bodies have been bridges. We are the sons and daughters. El destino de magenta, black brown, beautiful V. V. Raman, afro Latinos, suerte.