Rainbow of Chance
My past is like a sour-sweet apple,
one that blends the flavors of a radiant red, yellow, and blue perfectly on the tongue before dissipating forever.
My past is a sweet red, one of a vibrant Macaw gliding seamlessly through Hispanic skies.
My sweet red past reminds me of the succulent salsa rosada from my childhood,
days in Venezuela submerged in brown rivers as yellow petals landed on my face.
The red reminds me that even on my most colorless days, where I feel furthest from who I am, the red in my blood will never rot.
The yellow reminds me of sunrises in Caracas, where the deep blue of night melted into the yellow of a new day, casting a perfect, pink shadow across my sleeping face.
Sour yellow is the color of the ring I wear around my finger. It reminds me of the sacrifices my mother made to get me where I am today.
In the apple of my past, yellow represents change,
change from yellow Araguaney trees to tall Florida palms, like how an apple slowly changes color as it ages.
The yellow reminds me that even on my coldest days, where I feel furthest from my heritage, my skin will never grow colorless.
Yellow is the blinding sun that shines across the deep blue sea outside a small airplane window.
Blue is the soft bruising on an apple,
a blue I eat despite its tattered surface
because when it comes to my journey of migration, not every part was easy.
The blue reminds me of the tears I cried when I couldn’t recognize my own name in English.
I imagine the taste of blue being that of the first meal I ate in America,
the flavor of new beginnings filling my heart more than my empty stomach.
Like an apple, we all share red, yellow, blue.
A base of red happiness.
and blue moments that bruise.
But, most of all, we all live in yellow.
The yellow is change, a moment of transition like the sunrises in Caracas where yesterday’s mistakes are overshadowed by today’s opportunities.
I value yellow the most because, just like migration, yellow gives, not just migrants, but all of us a chance at tomorrow,
a new beginning to reinvent oneself,
another chance of living in red, yellow, and blue.
I’m forever grateful for my red, Venezuelan roots that keep me grounded,
the blue moments that only made me stronger.
I’m grateful for my mother, who taught me to dream, to always aim towards the yellow sun
because no matter where I am or where I may end up,
I will always lie under the yellow sun
of my childhood, my adolescence, my future.
I made this piece for immigrant children like me who have lived two lives - one in their home country and a new life where they live now. This piece expresses many of the emotions I felt as a child, and now, when thinking about the hardships I've had to overcome as an immigrant. My inspiration for this piece is all the children who have had to adapt and to overcome hardships at an early age due to migration.