I am from rain in the morning and sunshine by noon,
From snow days and weather delays.
I am from the mighty mountains,
The valley where the grass meets rock.
I am from the altostratus dirt cloud
That forms around the bend of a switchback.
I am from my grandfather,
The one who became both father and mother.
I am from plastic bins of shirts
That are too big to wear
And teaching myself how to braid my hair.
I am from Shoot for the stars
But I am from Keep your expectations low.
I am from carpools to practice,
Hot walks to the store.
I am from late night calls to catch up with friends,
And from the bad connection that forces their end.
I am from slang in languages I don't speak
Wallahi bro, it’s true!
I am from quince courts
And in-class iftar.
I am from barbeque served with balut
That needs its own special spoon.
I am from freedom learned in the great outdoors.
I am from a small town that showed me the world.
I am from the family that I chose.
I am from all these,
But I still have a long way to go.
