Your favorite mark to the beginning of good weather, your favorite excuse to wear a sombrero, your favorite day to drink out of a fishbowl is not yours, and it's not mine either. We simply don't celebrate it in Mexico outside of a local celebration in the town of Puebla, which is where my father is from and where the invading French were told to kick rocks.

I was born in Alexandria, VA and part of a multicultural background, and family. For almost 40 years I've been pretending that it doesn't get under my skin when my culture is turned into a joke.

A personal account of how I feel about certain Americans making a novelty out of Cinco de Mayo and how bad it makes them look. There's no real excuse to keep yourself ignorant in 2023. Enjoy my not so mild salsa.