By Cate Rosa, Alliance Intern from Boston University ’26
In a captivating performance at Art Share LA, Jose Olivarez delves into the rich tapestry of his identity with his poem Mexican American Disambiguation. Before reciting the poem, he discusses the power of “articulating yourself,” setting the stage for an inspired exploration of the complexities of identity and self-definition he has faced. His eloquent delivery and poignant insights create an atmosphere that invites the audience to reflect on the labels society imposes and to celebrate their own unique narrative.
In celebration of National Immigrant Heritage Month, we chose this poem to honor the diverse stories and cultural contributions of immigrant families. As the son of immigrants, Olivarez offers a narrative that is both deeply personal and relatable, dissecting the nuances of being Mexican-American and challenges of navigating cultural, racial, and social intersections. Jose’s performance is a masterclass in spoken word blending humor, honesty, and reflection that will leave you deeply affected and inspired to discover the power of self-definition.
Mexican American Disambiguation by Jose Olivarez after Idris Goodwin
my parents are Mexican who are not
to be confused with Mexican-Americans
or Chicanos. i am a Chicano from Chicago
which means i am a Mexican-American
with a fancy college degree & a few tattoos.
my parents are Mexican who are not
to be confused with Mexicans still living
in México. those Mexicans call themselves Mexicanos. white folks at parties call them
pobrecitos. American colleges call them
international students & diverse. my mom
was white in México & my dad was mestizo
& after they crossed the border they became
diverse. & minorities. & ethnic. & exotic.
but my parents call themselves Mexicanos,
who, again, should not be confused for Mexicanos living in México. those Mexicanos might call
my family gringos, which is the word my family calls white folks & white folks call my parents
interracial. colleges say put them on a brochure.
my parents say que significa esa palabra.
i point out that all the men in my family
marry lighter skinned women. that’s the Chicano
in me. which means it’s the fancy college degrees
in me, which is also diverse of me. everything in me is diverse even when i eat American foods
like hamburgers, which to clarify, are American when a white person eats them & diverse
when my family eats them. so much of America
can be understood like this. my parents were undocumented when they came to this country
& by undocumented, i mean sin papeles, &
by sin papeles, i mean royally fucked which
should not be confused with the American Dream though the two are cousins. colleges are not
looking for undocumented diversity. my dad
became a citizen which should not be confused
with keys to the house. we were safe from deportation, which should not be confused
with walking the plank. though they’re cousins.
i call that sociology, but that’s just the Chicano
in me who should not be confused with the diversity
in me or the Mexicano in me who is constantly fighting
with the upwardly mobile in me who is good friends
with the Mexican-American in me who the colleges
love, but only on brochures, who the government calls NON-WHITE, HISPANIC or WHITE, HISPANIC, who
my parents call mijo even when i don’t come home so much.
José Olivarez, the son of Mexican immigrants, is a poet and author known for his powerful exploration of identity. He penned the acclaimed poetry collections Citizen Illegal and Promises of Gold, and co-authored Home Court. As the co-host of The Poetry Gods podcast, Olivarez brings poetry to life with humor, honesty, and critical reflection. A Harvard graduate and recipient of numerous fellowships, his work has been featured in the New York Times, Chicago Tribune and Brooklyn Magazine, resonating deeply with readers and listeners alike.