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As Korean as you are Korean

Tesha Post,
Holland, MI.

I was adopted from Korea when I was six months old and grew up living in the U.S. with my White parents. As a result, I do not speak Korean or know how to cook Korean foods. People are often surprised to hear this– they may react with disappointment, confusion, or even relief. I enjoy talking about my cultural background because I find that even if someone isn’t asking outright, they are wondering privately.

My Obaa is Japanese – I’m not.

Livia Messenger,
Northhampton, MA.
Smith College

Before I told you my grandmother was from Japan, I wasn’t Asian to you. I’m white. I don’t speak Japanese. I’ve never been to Japan, worn a kimono, or even met my Japanese relatives. I flunked out of calculus – but I suppose my “white side” was holding the pencil when I took the SATs, right? I don’t identify with that race – keep your stereotypes away from me.

White outside and brown on inside.

Donato Rivera III,
San Jose, CA

I was born in raised in San Jose, Ca. My family is of Mexican descent. Although when people look at me they don’t see someone with that background. It doesn’t help that my family didn’t teach me or my siblings Spanish. People think I am Russian or German when they see me.

The Language I wish I Spoke

Jaymi Serna,
Aurora, CO

Growing up in a primarily Mexican area, my family only spoke spanglish or slang not actually Spanish. It never used to bother me as kid because I knew who I was and who I came from despite not knowing Spanish. Being an hispanic women, I pass for a white individual because of my light skin but compared to my family who’s darker than me and get more hate. Not being able to speak Spanish has been challenge because I am not welcomed in either category; Spanish speakers look down on my when I can’t speak or quite understand what they say and white people look at me in confusion about my race and culture and think I am lying. While I’m old enough to learn the language and try each and everyday, I feel so disconnected from my cultural sometimes. My family and I cook food, listen to Cumbia and dance, my parents passed down their stories to me from their parents and grandparents. My great parents who were potatoes farmers knew the language and never passed it down because of the discrimination the received in their lives. While I plan to continue my journey to learning Spanish not only to be able to communicate with others, but to be closer to my family and culture as a whole.

I wish I were more Hispanic.

Raysa Rivera,
Worcester, MA.

I have struggled with my inability to fit in within the Hispanic culture. I cannot speak the language without having trouble with grammar and sounding like a “white girl.” I’ve gotten mocked because of it all the time. My family has also decided to leave some of the cultural traditions back on the island and so there are more aspects of Hispanic culture that I don’t even know about and therefore cannot appreciate. I try to connect with it, but I get made fun of so heavily that it’s difficult to find the courage to want to learn more. Be it from Hispanics who look down on me for not speaking Spanish or from non-Hispanics who throw the generic “Mexican” name calling on me whenever they seek fit. I wish I could fit in more and love the culture that I come from. I want to be more like the others who can dance and cook and speak Spanish effortlessly.

Speak Spanish Poorly? Then Don’t Speak.

NCPR-1986Robb Pérez,
San Clemente, CA.

My mother didn’t speak Spanish to us when we were growing up in the Bronx, but I took enough Spanish in school to develop a decent accent. By now, however, I have what could be considered a six-year-old child’s vocabulary. Hence, it’s easier to tell people that I don’t speak Spanish at all. It’s especially troublesome now that I’ve lived in California for over 30 years.

I run into trouble when I see a Puerto Rican flag hanging from a rear-view mirror. I have to resist the urge to yell out, “Oye, Boriqua!” but cultural pride gets the best of me. Almost immediately after the words pass my lips, I cringe inside, knowing what’s going to happen next.

My new-found compatriot starts a conversation with me. In Spanish.

I nod and smile a lot, then, in English, excuse myself.

Engish only, you’re not really Mexican.

Matthew Montoya,
Orange, CA

I understand Spanish but I can speak fluently. I get embarrassed because fluent Spanish speakers are no help to teach, they laugh if I mispronounce a word. My experience trying to learn was not good and made me shut down from ever trying to. This made those who are fluent speakers divide themselves and made themselves believe they are the representation of a true Hispanic/Mexican.

____ Students’ Association! Fill the blank.

KM,
Austin, TX.

I am current in college at one of the largest public universities. Not a week goes by where I don’t see a group of students sitting at a table and asking passerby’s to join their organization. One of the most numerous types would be the such&such Students’ Association.

I am of mixed race. For one of the ethnicities, I have an extremely limited understanding of the language. For the other, the language is so obscure and archaic, not even a foreign languages hipster would know about it. My appearance is also unlike either group. This leaves me unable to really join either group without still feeling left out. It reflects a childhood where I was discriminated against or left out since I was half of one and of another.

I always wonder what it would feel like to be in one. If it is as full-filling as I always imagine it would be. It makes me wish there was a place for me at a campus with 75,000 people, that I could do something to make the place feel just a little bit smaller.

Mexican really? You dont look mexican.

Priscilla Esparza,
Riverside, CA.

Living life as a Mexican American is best described by Abraham Quintanilla,”Being Mexican American is tough. Anglos jump all over you if you don’t speak English Perfectly, Mexicans jump all over you if you don’t speak Spanish perfectly.” “we got to prove to the Mexicans how Mexican we are and we got to prove to the Americans how American we are. We got to be MORE Mexican than the Mexicans and MORE American than the Americans; both at the same time! Its exhausting!”and it truly is exhausting.

CBU HIS311

Wishing I knew my own language.

Celestina Garcia,
Bloomington, IN.

Cripplingly aware of my Hispanic heritage, yet I feel that it doesn’t belong to me. I have my mother’s Anglo nose, and my fathers Mexican brows. I wade through a sea of whiteness wishing to connect yet when I find a Chicana we find that we aren’t on the same page… maybe we can’t even speak the same languages. My desire to connect to my heritage keeps me up in the dark hours of the night, but I never know what to say. Like they say: I’m neither here, nor there.

My Obaa is Japanese – I’m not.

Livia Messenger,
Northhampton, MA.
Smith College

Before I told you my grandmother was from Japan, I wasn’t Asian to you. I’m white. I don’t speak Japanese. I’ve never been to Japan, worn a kimono, or even met my Japanese relatives. I flunked out of calculus – but I suppose my “white side” was holding the pencil when I took the SATs, right? I don’t identify with that race – keep your stereotypes away from me.

You don’t look like you’re Mexican.

Alyssa Ortega,
Fresno, CA.

I was born into a Mexican family, with parents who were BOTH born outside of marriage as a result of infidelity. They are both still Mexican, but much lighter than the rest of their families (They are also BOTH part Spaniard) and were not taught Spanish unfortunately due to circumstance. I have alway felt like an outsider for looking different and not knowing Spanish from my family, and also from the people around me. I have been told I don’t look Mexican, but I also don’t look white. I have always felt like there has been no place where I fit in or was able to relate to because of (mainly) the color of my skin.

I don’t have to speak spanish

Jennnifer,
Fresno, CA.

No matter where I am, people will come up to me and start speaking Spanish. I assume it’s because they assume that im fully Mexican. but little do many know, I’m mayority Native American with a small amount of Hispanic in me. Because people asssume that I’m Mexican, they assume my first languge is Spanish. I speak no Spanish at all. When I dont speak it back or stare back with a confused look on my face, they get offended.

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