In every standardized test I have taken since third grade there is a series of questions; two of them being “What race/ethnicity are you?” and “Are you Hispanic/Latino?”. I never knew why the questions were separated or why Hispanic and Latino were lumped together. To my understanding, Hispanic and Latino were two separate ethnicities that could sometimes overlap. Because of this, I never answered the first question. Now that I am asked my race and ethnicity without the restriction of having to fit my identity into a box, I can proudly say I am Mexican, Latina, Hispanic, and Chicana. The traditions, values, and even stereotypes associated with my background have been a part of my life from an early age. I primarily spoke Spanish. I lived in a house with my extended family-- grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. I attended a Catholic mass every Sunday and prayed the
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The yard duty was made fun of for pronouncing stop as estop; I was teased for the thickness of my arm and facial hair; I was originally put in the lowest level of reading, despite the fact my test scores indicated I belonged in a higher level; when a classmate asked me my religion and I answered Catholic instead of Christian, she told me that I didn’t believe in God. After a year there, I had this toxic, internalized hate for myself that resulted in me refusing to speak Spanish, straightening my hair every day, and shaving my face at the ripe age of nine. Despite my efforts, I still wasn’t white enough for my peers and even worse I ended up not being Mexican enough for my family. I was left in this state of confusion that negatively impacted my development, but I genuinely thought that what I was doing was for the better. It wasn’t until tenth grade, when I found a positive and supportive community of Latinas, that I came to embrace and love my ethnicity
The yard duty was made fun of for pronouncing stop as estop; I was teased for the thickness of my arm and facial hair; I was originally put in the lowest level of reading, despite the fact my test scores indicated I belonged in a higher level; when a classmate asked me my religion and I answered Catholic instead of Christian, she told me that I didn’t believe in God. After a year there, I had this toxic, internalized hate for myself that resulted in me refusing to speak Spanish, straightening my hair every day, and shaving my face at the ripe age of nine. Despite my efforts, I still wasn’t white enough for my peers and even worse I ended up not being Mexican enough for my family. I was left in this state of confusion that negatively impacted my development, but I genuinely thought that what I was doing was for the better. It wasn’t until tenth grade, when I found a positive and supportive community of Latinas, that I came to embrace and love my ethnicity