Being Enough
When I was a kid I use to wish that my skin was whiter. I had watched Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and I was hung up on that one line in the movie, "and skin as white as snow." To be "white as snow" meant I was a good, beautiful, kind person. So, I wished and prayed to be whiter. To help me along in my quest to be whiter, I turned my back on my heritage. It wasn't too difficult considering that a lot of children and adults treated me and my white mother differently. My father was Mexican American and my mother was Anglo or white American. I already looked a lot like my mother but my skin was a shade darker than hers and a shade lighter than my father. I was in the middle. In the summer my skin would brown while my mother's would turn lobster red. I wanted red lobster skin. I figured if I was lighter then I'd be Snow White and even if the Mexican American children didn't want me someone else would.
As I got older my skin lightened. In the summer I would turn red. I would burn. I was white just like I'd wished except I didn't want to be white anymore. I wasn't any happier than when I was a little kid being teased for being too white to be Mexican and to dark to be really white.
After my father died I really felt the loss of my roots. He was gone and I thought that maybe my chance was gone. I longed to be connected with culture and heritage but I didn't really know how and when I tried it felt like a door was being slammed in my face.
Today, after a lengthy debate over approiate potrayals of various races, I stepped away wondering how much of an authority I have, how Mexican I really am. The points I made didn't seem to be accepted until my co-worker made the same points. She is 100% while I'm only half Hispanic. It reminded me that people, both white and Latino, still see me as white before they see me as Latina. And if there is a 100% Latino standing next to me that person opinions and thoughts are taken more seriously than mine.
About a year after my father died I started working at my current job. One of the first Latino students I met was Oscar. He accepted me as a Latina even though I didn't look like one. Being half was good enough for him. A year later I met Peter, he was president of a Latino based organization on campus. He accepted me as Latina. After he graduated the new president was Bryan. When they needed a new advisor, Bryan asked me. I was Latin enough for him. When Jenifer joined the organization as a freshman, she accepted me.
Every year when the organizaton comes to me to ask me to renew my position as advisor, I always give them the option to find someone else. I always tell them that it's an honor because it is. But if they find someone who they feel is a better fit (meaning if they find someone more connected to their culture) I would step down because I only want them to succeed and have the best possible advisors to guide them. They always look at me like I'm crazy and tell me to "just sign it" and I do.
It hurts not be taken seriously just because I'm not a 100% one race or another. Some of that hurt stems from guilt over my actions and I work every day to change that but I can't change other people. All I can do is be happy that people, like my co-worker, respect me for navigating my dual race and students like Oscar, Peter, Bryan and Jenifer accept me as Latina enough to be their advisor, mentor and friend.
As I got older my skin lightened. In the summer I would turn red. I would burn. I was white just like I'd wished except I didn't want to be white anymore. I wasn't any happier than when I was a little kid being teased for being too white to be Mexican and to dark to be really white.
After my father died I really felt the loss of my roots. He was gone and I thought that maybe my chance was gone. I longed to be connected with culture and heritage but I didn't really know how and when I tried it felt like a door was being slammed in my face.
Today, after a lengthy debate over approiate potrayals of various races, I stepped away wondering how much of an authority I have, how Mexican I really am. The points I made didn't seem to be accepted until my co-worker made the same points. She is 100% while I'm only half Hispanic. It reminded me that people, both white and Latino, still see me as white before they see me as Latina. And if there is a 100% Latino standing next to me that person opinions and thoughts are taken more seriously than mine.
About a year after my father died I started working at my current job. One of the first Latino students I met was Oscar. He accepted me as a Latina even though I didn't look like one. Being half was good enough for him. A year later I met Peter, he was president of a Latino based organization on campus. He accepted me as Latina. After he graduated the new president was Bryan. When they needed a new advisor, Bryan asked me. I was Latin enough for him. When Jenifer joined the organization as a freshman, she accepted me.
Every year when the organizaton comes to me to ask me to renew my position as advisor, I always give them the option to find someone else. I always tell them that it's an honor because it is. But if they find someone who they feel is a better fit (meaning if they find someone more connected to their culture) I would step down because I only want them to succeed and have the best possible advisors to guide them. They always look at me like I'm crazy and tell me to "just sign it" and I do.
It hurts not be taken seriously just because I'm not a 100% one race or another. Some of that hurt stems from guilt over my actions and I work every day to change that but I can't change other people. All I can do is be happy that people, like my co-worker, respect me for navigating my dual race and students like Oscar, Peter, Bryan and Jenifer accept me as Latina enough to be their advisor, mentor and friend.
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