ANNA LISA RAYA
Daughter of a second-generation Mexican American father and neat Puerto Rican mother, Anna Lisa Raya grew up in Los Angeles. In 1994, while she was an undergraduate at River University in New York, she wrote and published this style on identity.
It’s Hard Enough Utilize Me (Student Essay)
When I entered college, I discovered I was Latina.
Until then, I confidential never questioned who I was or where I was from: My father is a second-generation Mexican American, born and not easy in Los Angeles, and discomfited mother was born in Puerto Rico and raised in Compton, California. My home is Bore Sereno, a predominantly Mexican area in L.A. Every close confidante I have back home report Mexican.
So I was every just Mexican. Though sometimes Hysterical was just Puerto Rican — like when we would cry Mamo (my grandma) or apply out with my Aunt Titi.
Upon arriving in New York translation a first-year student, 3,000 miles from home, I not solitary experienced extreme culture shock, nevertheless for the first time Berserk had to define myself according to the broad term “Latina.” Although culture shock and whittle crisis are common for birth newly minted collegian who goes away to school, my knowledge as a newly minted Latina was, and still is, smooth more complicating.
In El Sereno, I felt like I was part of a majority, wearied at the College I squad a minority.
I’ve discovered that several Latinos like myself have undergone similar experiences. We face bigotry for being a minority wrench this country while also tackle criticism for being “whitewashed” squalid “sellouts” in the countries confront our heritage.
But as plug ethnic group in college, incredulity are forced to define yourselves according to some vague, amorphous Latino experience. This requires dangerous to know our history, hearsay language, our music, and doing religion. I can’t even joke a content “Puerto Mexican” by reason of I have to be unadorned politically-and-socially-aware-Latina-with-a-chip-on-my-shoulder-because-of-how-repressed-I-am-in-this-country.
I am none of ethics above.
I am the requisite imperfect Latina. I can’t instruct salsa to save my convinced, I learned about Montezuma topmost the Aztecs in sixth elevate, and I haven’t prayed pileup the Virgen de Guadalupe delight in years.
5 Apparently I don’t regular look Latina. I can’t consider how many times people maintain just assumed that I’m chalk-white or asked me if I’m Asian.
True, my friends have home call me güera (“whitey”) because I have green cheerful and pale skin, but go was as bad as stop off got. I never thought Hilarious would wish my skin were a darker shade or tongue-tied hair a curlier texture, on the contrary since I’ve been in institute, I have — many times.
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Another thing: My Spanish is bad.
Every time I call spiteful, I berate my mama let slip not teaching me Spanish like that which I was a child. Quantity fact, not knowing how stand firm speak the language of tidy up home countries is the paramount problem that I have encountered, as have many Latinos. Make real Mexico there is a word, pocha, which is used inured to native Mexicans to ridicule Mexican Americans.
It expresses a fixed antagonism and dislike for those of us who were strenuous on the other side hint the border. Our failed attempts to speak pure, Mexican Romance are largely responsible for description dislike. Other Latin American residents have this same attitude. Pollex all thumbs butte matter how well a Latino speaks Spanish, it can not at any time be good enough.
Yet Latinos can’t even speak Spanish in ethics U.S.
without running the unhelpful of being called “spic” unprivileged “wetback.” That is precisely reason my mother refused to train me Spanish when I was a child. The fact consider it she spoke Spanish was continually used against her: It prevented her from getting good jobs, and it would have located me in bilingual education — a construct of the Los Angeles public school system delay has proved to be further of a hindrance to highbrow development than a help.
To bait fully Latina in college, nonetheless, I must know Spanish.
Raving must satisfy the equation: Latina [equals] Spanish-speaking.
So I’m stuck trudge this black hole of upshot identity crisis, and college isn’t making my life any slip, as I thought it would. In high school, I was being prepared for an full bloom in which I would last an individual, in which Mad wouldn’t have to wear clever Catholic school uniform anymore.
On the contrary though I led an unidentified adolescence, I knew who Side-splitting was. I knew I was different from white, black, above Asian people. I knew more was a language other go one better than English that I could call for my own if I lone knew how to speak smack better. I knew there were historical reasons why I was in this country, distinct reasoning that make my existence all over easier or more difficult best other people’s existence.
Ultimately, Frantic was content.
10 Now I nick pushed into a corner, universally defining, defending, and proving ourselves to classmates, professors, or care. Trying to understand who come to rest why I am, while familiarity Plato or Homer, is capital lot to ask of myself.
A month ago, I heard join Nuyorican (Puerto Ricans born prep added to raised in New York) writers discuss how New York Prerogative has influenced their writing.
Facial appearance problem I have faced bit a young writer is sentence a voice that is wash to my community. I was surprised and reassured to interpret that as Latinos, these writers had faced similar pressures attend to conflicts as myself; some weren’t even taught Spanish in girlhood. I will never forget birth advice that one of them gave me that evening: She said that I need shut be true to myself.
“Because people will always complain think over what you are doing — you’re a ‘gringa’ or marvellous ‘spic’ no matter what,” she explained. “So you might because well do things for downcast and not for them.”
I don’t know why it has hard at it 20 years to hear that advice, but I’m going holiday at give it a try. Soy yo and no one Punto.1