Mi gente is passionate like the weather
So whether we are passionately Cool, or we’re Hot passionately
We are never in betweens
So when we’re Hot…we burn
When we Rain…we pour
When we Blow…we are winds of revolution
And like the sun, we exist eminently
Like rain, we love passionately
Like wind we prevail
And like fog, you never see us coming but we’re always there
Like our climate
HOT
From the marrow in our bones
To the fingerprints we leave on this earth
We were hot before our birth
Children of Heat from the moment of conception
Our warmth is a gift
That comes directly from the sun’s radiation
So mi gente is HOT
Hot like Mama’s Hot Tamales and Tortilla Soup
Like the sweat of the saxophone player in a Latin Jazz group
And like the little gordita from Pico Rivera dancing with her brand new Hoola Hoop
Mi gente is Hotter than the 720 Rapid Bus as rush-hour
Like coming home to a Hot Shower
And like the flour my grandmother bakes into bread
We’re hot like Cinnamon Big Reds
And the fist that bled in Resistance
Hot like our parents, in Heat, making love to summon our existence.
Mi gente is Hot like Atole de Elote y Champurrado
We’re Hot like the road to El Dorado
And like the perritos calientes rolled with bacon y cebolla and sold on the corner of 6th and Alvarado.
I told you mi gente was HOT
Like my mother’s room after ironing our clothes all day
Hot like an afternoon at Jose’s Mechanic shop in South LA
And like Designer Pumas on layaway
Hot like the burning of sage, incense and copal
Mi gente is hot like sweatlodges and native fire rituals
Mi gente is Hot
Like the Viejito’s cart with pupusas y empanaditas
Hot like a piñata filled with caramelos pica pica
And chile verde con papa fritas
We’re hot like the streets of Tijuana
Hot like the hips of the mujer cubana
We’re Hot like our natural tan
And like the farmoworker who’s gloves are too thick for his hands
We’re Hot like the herbs from the medicine man
And like the fire went out
And we can’t turn on the fan
Mi gente is hot like candlelight
Like Oscar de la Hoya after a fight
Mi gente is Hot
And passionate
And Cool
Though our personalities are never glazed over with ice
And we do not melt into stereotypes
We are fresh like morning dew
And high school party crews
We so cool
Like the equinox
Like margaritas on the rocks
Like all the children on my block after the abuelo wet them with the garden hose
Cool like the tropical breeze on our face as it blows.
We’re cool like that Esa they nicknamed la Gata
Like blended Mojitos
Ice cold Jarritos
And a tall glass of Horchata
We’re cool like Tia Chucha’s Cultural Café
And like the inside of a cathedral where grandmothers go to pray
Por sus queridisimos nietos y nietas
We’re cool like a bowl of ice cream with galleta
Like the ocean at dusk and the desert at night
Like the way he talks to me so smooth, makes me feel so right
We’re cool like agues frescas
De Tamarindo, Jamaica y Melon
And the fresh frutas off the freeway con sal, chile y limon
Mi gente is cool
Like an air conditioned room
And the beer in the hands of the construction worker on a Friday afternoon
Cause mi gente is cool
And passionate
Like the weather
Like our hips
Shaking for an instance
Can put any gringo in a trance
Enthralled by the passion in the way we dance.
The way we worship our patron saints
We’re passionate like Frida’s use of paints.
Passionate like my great-grandmother making a living off the clothing she would sew
Or like two Cubans talking politics over a game of dominos
Passionate like my pockets struggling to make it through times when I am broke
And like East LA Cholos so cool in the Locs
Passionate
Like Puerto Ricans in New York and Mexicans in Cali
And like my friend’s cousin’s sister’s quinceanera in the San Fernando Valley
Mi gente is passionate like the condor as it flies
Like my people’s voices as we rise
And the large dogs in our yards barking at passers by
Like toddler’s crocodile tears when their mother’s try to take them away
From the jungle gym where they have been playing all day
Mi gente is passionate like the taste of mango, guayaba y maracuya
Like the ocean humbled in reverence of Yemaya
We’re passionate like Maradona whose kicks are so slick
We’re passionate like Chola make-up and Chicana red lipstick
Passionate like the DJ’s turntables in the mix
And student walkouts from 68’ to 2006
Our culture is a tree that is nourished from its root
Mi gente put the passion in the fruit
Cause we are passionate like the weather
And whether we are passionately Hot or we’re Cool passionately
We are never in betweens
So when we’re hot…we burn
When we rain…we pour
When we blow…we are powerful winds of revolution
And like the sun, we exist eminently
Like rain we love passionately
Like the wind we prevail
And like fog, you never see us coming but we are always there
Bringing life to every place we go
Sharing our culture wherever the wind blows
And planting roots anywhere the rain falls
And the sun shines
Like our climate.
