Somos Mas Americanos (We Are More American) by Los Tigres Del Norte. The lyrics have been translated into English below,
They have shouted at me a thousand times I should go back to my country
Because there’s no room for me hereI want to remind the gringos:
I didn’t cross the border, the border crossed meAmerica was born free, but men divided it
They marked a line so that I jump it
And they can call me “invader”And that’s a very frequent mistake
They took from us eight states
Who’s then the invader?I’m a foreigner in my own land
And I didn’t come here to cause you trouble
I’m a hard-working manAnd if history isn’t lying
The powerful nation settled here, in the glory
Among brave warriors,Indians of two continents mixed with Spaniards
And if we take centuries into account
We are more American
We are more American than the children of the Anglo-Saxons
Thing is, many white Americans simply can’t handle the truth about this nation’s past. They want sanitized history books for their children, which may give a vague chapter or two to the ugliness and brutishness of our forebears, but then go on to sing the praises of the United States, and rationalize those errant chapters as the occasional potholes in an otherwise well-paved road.
William Faulkner’s dictum that, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past” comes to mind. Indeed, the America we live in is the direct result of the intertwined strands of horror and greatness that preceded it.
It’s true.
Songs about Immigration & Assimilation: La Jaula de Oro (The Golden Cage) by Los Tigres del Norte
The song, whose title translates to Golden Cage, details the plight of an undocumented worker in the United States: he swam across the border ten years prior yet still doesn’t have his papers; his wife and kids have long since forgotten about Mexico, while he longs to return yet cannot; he asks his son if he would like to go back to Mexico, and his son responds, in English, “What are you talking about, Dad? I don’t want to go back to Mexico — no way, Dad!”; and transcribed, the chorus laments, “What good is money/If I’m like a prisoner/Inside this big nation?/When I remember I cry/Although the jail may be made of gold/It’s still a prison.” [source]
Inspired by The Next Immigration Challenge [New York Times]
Source: The New York Times
