My Identity Struggle
Whenever I hear or think of the word race I automatically wonder under which classification I fit in. I have, and am very proud of my ethnicity. But even that word confuses me. I struggle between Hispanic and Latino, often times confusing them. According to Merriam-Webster’s dictionary there are two definitions of Hispanic. The first one states that a Hispanic is a person relating to the people, speech, or culture of Spain or of Spain and Portugal. The second one being : of, relating to, or being a person of Latin American descent living in the United States; especially : one of Cuban, Mexican, or Puerto Rican origin. I also looked up Latino, and also found two definitions which were actually very similar to the definition of Hispanic : a native or inhabitant of Latin America. The second definition states that a Latino is a person of Latin-American origin living in the United States. I not only struggle to find a proper definition of my race and ethnicity, but also to fit in and understand the differences between these two words.
Ever since I started going to school, race and ethnicity has been an important factor in my life. To me race defines a person’s identity. It also factors how a person will be treated throughout life along with other things. I first became aware of how race and ethnicity play into ones life during the middle of sixth grade. I was enrolled at a public school where it was mostly Hispanic and Black kids. Occasionally I would see a White kid around but that was pretty rare. I was comfortable I never really had to worry about differences between me and others. But then one day I realized my parents had just begun the admissions process to apply to private school. I walked into the kitchen and saw the folder with kids in blue shirts printed on there. I asked my mom what it was and she responded, “They’re papers to apply to a new school.” “For who?” I asked. She then told me it was for my three sisters and I. My face then morphed into a displeased face. I told my mom “I don’t want to attend a stupid private school. It’s going to be full of lame white kids mom! And I don’t want to wear freaking uniforms, you know I won’t wear that.” My true reasons were because I knew I would have to leave my current school and friends and make new ones. I knew that I probably wouldn’t fit in socially, and more importantly economically. It had taken me half a year to become comfortable at my current middle school. I used to have really good friends from elementary from 1st grade until 5th grade. We were split up in middle school because 5 elementary schools went into my middle school and he grade was divided into 4 halls. During this time the whole Immigration Reform and Conflict was starting to emerge in the Nation. Wherever I was the media would portray Hispanics as criminals, lazy, thieves and as dumb ignorant people. I would see newspapers, magazines, TV shows with headlines talking about the border or something that had to do with either “illegal immigrants” or “national security”. I was starting to realize that as a minority I have many stereotypes against me. I began struggling with self-consciousness issues about my appearance. Plus I was accepted into the private school and was really angered by that. I felt ugly compared to other Mexicans. I felt that I did not fit the few but positive stereotypes like that all Hispanics/Latinos are attractive and good looking. So I hated myself and thought I was ugly, fat, and a lame person with no life. The year ended and I drifted from all of my friends. I became tired of them commenting on how smart I was or how I was going to a private school next year. Also taunts about me being “white” became annoying.
I finally started school and was not happy at all. I became more shy and reserved and refused to open myself up to anyone. I felt out of place like I didn’t fit in. Going to the private school was a blessing but also a curse. The first day of school I was already fitting the negative stereotypes, I was late. I went to class and when I came in everyone was sitting around and they all looked at me when I walked in. The teacher struggled with my name which made me nervous because I had to speak up and pronounce it correctly. After that an eighth grader blurted out loud, “He looks like he can play soccer. I bet he’s good.” At that moment I looked around and noticed I was the only “colored” student and one of three minorities along with two other Asian girls. After that I was embarrassed to speak up afraid that anything I said would be dumb or not accepted by all my fellow white peers. They all seemed to understand this junior high concept of sharing your emotions and interpreting literature. I could not figure this out and instead kept quiet.
I receive an education that is not accessible to many especially among my race/ethnicity. I am so grateful but at the same time I feel guilt. Not many people get this opportunity and sometimes I find myself not fully taking advantage of this school. But other times I feel out of place, stuck somewhere in the middle. Back home I have my friends that attend public schools. Whenever I hang out with them I feel that they think I am superior to them just because of my education. Or I feel they think I am too “white” for them in their eyes. At school I feel left out because I am a minority and I am completely different than most people. . This is a constant inner struggle that I carry. I automatically get self conscious with all my friends. Everything I do, say or wear makes me stop and wonder what/ how I seem in their eyes. Along with these worries comes stereotypes.
I have had to overcome stereotypes about my own people. These stereotypes are brought up and sustained by the media, and other forms of communication. I notice that about 75% of the time a crime committed or involving a minority is being reported. Each of these incidents have a combination of poverty and racial oppression. This men were unable to live their live due to the barrier caused by racism. This relates to how I feel about stereotypes. Stereotypes have made people believe that all Hispanics are Mexicans. We are portrayed as lazy, criminals that have taken the countries jobs.
This sparks the whole immigration conflict. We have lots of kids and take the government’s money. We are called wetbacks, border hoppers and are being discriminated because of these beliefs. All these stereotypes cause racism and prevent many from living the better life they dreamed of. Yes, a crime was committed when the border was crossed illegally. But is it a crime to live and search for a better life? Not everyone is illegal here and not everyone crossed illegally. I know of people who entered the country with visa’s and they either expired or were unable to renew them. I have had to overcome these perceptions personally. I have been asked about my status many times before. I have also surprised many people when I tell them I go to a private school. I have to live everyday with the fear that my parent’s can possibly be detained and deported because they lack a piece of paper that declares them “legal”. That’s why I try to help them whenever they need my help. I struggled to get my permit because of my parent’s status. Now I try to be there so that I can drive them and keep them safe, to whatever destination is needed. Was this country not built and shaped by immigrants and diverse cultures?
Everyday I try my best in life and school to overcome the stereotypes. I strive to get good grades and show that I am not ignorant, that I am smart and not lazy. I want to show the world that I can hopefully be a doctor, entrepreneur or architect and not a landscaper or construction worker (there is nothing wrong with that). At the same time, I want to find a true place for my identity in this country. I want to not be labeled negatively, but appreciated for what I do. I am proud to call myself Mexican-American. I am not ashamed of my culture. I believe that it is rich and strong and one of the best one’s in the world. Even though I struggle to fit into and ethnicity/race,between Hispanic and Latino, I try to live life and become someone. I identify myself as Mexican-American, because that to me defines who I am.