People Are Calling Out "American Dirt" With This Meme

People are using the phrase "writing my Latino novel" to call out Latinx stereotypes in publishing and in books like American Dirt.

The new novel American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins has quickly become polarizing for reportedly perpetuating stereotypes about Mexicans. The phrase "writing my Latino novel" has started trending on Twitter as people take these tired tropes to task. Here are some of the funniest tweets:


white people writing latinos in fics: i kissed my ten brothers and sisters goodbye and stepped out of my pueblo on the way to school. i blast gasolina in my headphones as i walk past the mariachi band. sometimes it’s hard para me to creer because i olvidar a switch languages


writing my Latino novel: "We fled late in the night, or /la noche/ as Mami calls it. I'm always embarrassed when Mami says shit like that, but I forgive her because she's one of eleven kids and is from /el barrio./ Anyway it was late at night, and Yolanda Saldivar was chasing us-


Writing my Latino novel: I joined The Los Locos gang when I was a fetus. Later that day I sold heroin Chiclets at the border. My mother Frida Kahlo was a hitman for the cartels. Our home was a pyramid. I've never seen the beach. The Virgin of Guadalupe stole my lowrider. Again.


writing my latino novel: "I was spicy, you know how we are. 𝘔𝘐𝘌𝘙𝘋𝘈 I yelled, I always cursed in 𝘌𝘴𝘱𝘢ñ𝘰𝘭 when I was angry. anyways, it's taco tuesday. my great grandfather was pablo escobar and i'm crawling climbing over the wall as we speak. cocaine."


Writing my Latino novel: "I let the gringo unwrap me like a banana leaf. He resembles the conquistador who asked my ancestors the way east then stole their land. I let him plunder, spread my piernas like mayonesa. "Dame tu leche," he demands. He milks me, my language, mi lengua.


Writing my Latino novel: “Bullets ring through the air. Mi aBuELa making arroz con pollo. I always watch Home Alone: Lost in New York when I’m sick. ‘Mijo, the volume is too high,’ she says in Spanish. More bullets. Merry Christmas ya filthy animal, he says. Feliz Navidad indeed”


Writing my Latino novel: "I bidi bidi bom bom'd to la tienda for Bustelo y fresh coconut. Papi walked out on us when I was a kid; he took mami's records, our money, and our Spanish. Mami doesn't speak Spanish anymore, and I'm going to be pressed about it for 240 pages."


writing my Latino novel: "We used la flan to guide our path thru the noche. my milky white novia said "our love makes me taino too, we are all boriqua" i nodded waving my bandera, thanking celia cruz for azucar and guidance. i looked to the sky & prayed to santo ricky martin.


writing my latino novel: abuela greets me, the chancla hitting my skull like a kiss from my ancestors. "jaja," i laugh. i am like the cookie tin, i think, filled with secrets, filled with thread, unraveling. "a comer," abuela sings in her plaintive voz. "hay comida en la casa."


Writing my Latino novel: “I looked at my hands, stained rojo like the sangre of mi gente, and placed my tongue upon my fingers—the tongue of my ancestors; that kissed a white boy once; that screams AJUA! when La Chona comes on—and immersed it Hot Cheetos; the Hot Cheetos of pain”


writing my Latino novel: Mami looked at me with ojos that burned like a habanero or the sun in the tropics, where things are caliente. Our Goya can piggy bank was down to its last centavos. That night we prayed to Don Francisco that he would pay la renta.


writing my Latino novel: I never walk anywhere; I dance, salsa in my bones. I'm curvy and muy caliente. Mami says I remind her of abuela who was famously hot and abused on the isla. She's 100% the reason Mami only cooks and gets far away looks in her eyes these days. Dios mio.


Writing my Latino novel: “Pero now, I had to choose. Get jumped into the gang or join my mami cleaning rich white peoples houses. I couldn't tell her I had a baby to think about, to protect. Then I heard the yelling, "LA MIGRA!!" and I got my chanclas, and ran. ”


Writing my Latino novel: Mi mami makes me cafe con leche, like the color of my skin. She kicks aside my Dragon Ball Z muñecos. I listen to Walter Mercado habalr. “Mucho, Mucho Amor” he says through the static. I wish my papi would say that to me. I want Goku to be my dad now.


Writing my latino novel: El doctor was nervous when I was born because he knew Mexican babies came out with machetes and pistolas, so I was delivered behind a bullet proof ventana in the rancho. My calves were the size of cantaloupes from the drug smuggling I did in the womb.

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