I never got to be in the contest
for the beauty queens even though I was
nominated every year since I started
school with the Mexicans. I bet
I would have won too—everyone here
is in love with rubias. I just got to bake
cupcakes for the fundraiser. I didn't
march in the Independence Day parade
or dance folklórico either. My parents
wrote letters saying it was against
our religion, but I still had to help
decorate during art class. I loved
cutting out hearts and flowers for
the floats and getting to use spray
glitter. No matter how hard I tried
I always ended up covered in sparkles.
About the Author
Abigail Carl-Klassen grew up in Seminole, Texas. She has done ethnopoetic work with migrant workers, Old Colony Mennonite communities in Mexico and Texas, social workers, homeless communities, immigrant communities along the U.S.-Mexico border and most recently, with Central American migrants and asylum seekers in Mexico. Her work has appeared in ZYZZYVA, Catapult, Cimarron Review, Willow Springs, Guernica, Aster(ix) and Kweli, among others. She is a staff writer for Poets Reading the News and her chapbook Shelter Management is now available from dancing girl press. She earned an MFA from the University of Texas El Paso’s Bilingual Creative Writing Program and taught at El Paso Community College and the University of Texas El Paso.
