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My parents think you are white.

Jennie,
Los Angeles, CA.

I am 4th generation Chicana. My mother is Mexican-American and my father is White.
One of the saddest things is to be rejected in relationships or see as different from your significant others’ family. I find that Mexicano families do not understand the history of Mexican-Americans. Someone I dated pointed out that his parents would see me as “White”. What was more upsetting was that he wanted me to be ok with this classification vs. fighting for my identity, the identity I see for myself. A complicated intersection that will not be defined by whites or by other Latinos.

You Don’t Look Like Your Name

Jessica Davila,
Rowlett, TX

I am a tanned skin, brown hair, brown eyes, Mexican American woman. My married name was Jessica Phillips. I worked at a doctor’s office on the “rich” part of town while getting my degree in biology. On multiple occasions, during phone conversations with patients, I would get the compliment on how well-spoken I am. When said patients would come in for their scheduled visit they would request for my assistance and almost all of them would be completely surprised at the sight of me. Too many to count stated, “You don’t look like your name, and you’re so well-spoken!” I am sure they meant it as a compliment, and for the most part I did take it that way, so I simply smiled and thanked them. But I was always left with the unanswered question, how is a tanned skin, brown hair, brown eyes, Mexican American with the name Jessica Phillips supposed to look or speak? I chose those six words because it goes to show how society has a perceived notion of what Mexicans, Hispanics, or Latinos are supposed to look, sound, and apparently be named. The world is so diverse and yet certain people are so boxed in that they cannot see beyond their own nose. I am much more than the color of my skin, my name, or the words I use to communicate. It is a part of who I am, but it does not compose the whole of me. I am a proud Texan with strong Mexican roots embedded in rich, beautiful American soil.

Latinos overlooked in conversation on race

Brenda Ramirez,
Chicago, IL

You would think that only White and Black people exist in this country. What about the rest of us? There is no outcry for Latinos who are shot, harassed, discriminated against, whose families are torn apart and whose children are locked up in detention centers. When will we matter in America? When will people be outraged about what happens to Latinos in this country? Will they ever be? Had it been a Latino killed by police officers, would the uproar be the same as what we’re seeing now with George Floyd? Sadly, I doubt it.

My Looks Don’t Define My Bloodline

Sierra McGeoghegan,
Weymouth, MA.

Growing up and even now I am always denied my Mexican heritage by lots of people of all races. I am Irish + Mexican and a few other races. My family treated my Hispanic blood as a taboo, the Latinos I knew as a child rejected me once I shared I was half white. I am 17 now and my plans are to travel to Texas + Mexico to learn from Mexicans their culture, how they want it to be experienced. To be completely honest I am scared of rejection- that I will be hated on and unwanted, but this is an life experience that I cannot leave undiscovered. Wish me the best for that experience. I’m thinking that I will write about it and put it online for others to witness. Thank you for doing what you do Ms. Michele Norris, your helping us minorities to feel important and that is a long needed thing. – Sincerely,
Sierra McGeoghegan

Really, we are all the same

Elizabeth Todd,
Plainfield, NH.

I grew up in the south and as a child heard my elders disparage blacks, Latinos and Catholics. Even as a child I knew this was wrong, I knew that we are all the same. I struggled with this dichotomy; the people I loved having values I deplored. How does one reconcile this?

None Report: Latinos overpopulated Vatican’s decrees

Robby Berg
Mesa, AZ

I befriended a highly intelligent but undereducated Latino family for ten years, acting in the capacity of a tour guide for three children (9 to 5 yrs old) of the larger Anglo culture as an addition to their schooling. Present at many of their larger family occasions, I saw hordes (no other way to say it) of dull-minded children born in large multiples to family members, each of whom procreated profusely as they grew into childbearing years. The parents could not afford to expose the children to the mainstream culture through museums or films for instance, but spent huge amounts on balloon houses that the kids used like a jump platz. The kids all went to public schools but only some were equipped intellectually to handle schooling. Their parents could not tutor them in math , science, writing, and reading because most frequently they did not have those skills. The dullest parents seemed indifferent to their children, possibly because the great numbers of children, lack of time and money, and always another child on the way made parental involvement impossible. This is the core of a now substantial anti-latino bias I developed over those years. I am so sorry to recognize that unwelcome outcome and that “result” in myself.

I am Latina No Habla Espanol

Erica Renee Contreras
Houston, TX

I’m from San Antonio Texas, quite possibly the most acculturated city with majority Latinos in the US. Growing up there was always so confusing. I don’t speak a word of Spanish. I live with the fact that no matter who I’m talking to, I inevitably end up feeling guilty for my lack of language skills. If you approach me speaking Spanish I’m offended you would assume I speak Spanish first. Then when you realize I don’t speak Spanish and you have the audacity to look down on me, I wonder why? Then I feel guilty because I should know the language, even if my last name wasn’t Contreras.

Only experienced discrimination from other Latinos.

Alicia Velez Stewart
Providence, RI

I also could have gone with “Wow, you don’t look Puerto Rican,” or “You are too “white” for us.” My father is 100% Puerto Rican, my mother was an all American mutt (as she would say – Lithuanian, Irish and English). Even so, my last name was still Velez and I have black hair, black eyes, olive skin and look distinctly Spanish. My mother was never extremely close to her family and as a result my brother and I were raised to favor our Latin roots and I identified as such. Growing up in a rural area where – at the time – we were the only Latino family in town was never an issue, though. No one thought twice about it except me – I always wanted to be more like (read: blonde and freckled) my friends in school. I was so excited to get to college and find out there was a Latino/Hispanic student association. Finally I would get a chance to meet and mingle with folks outside of my immediate family who looked like me, had families like mine, ate the same foods I liked! Instead I found out that I wasn’t “Latina” enough to be a part of the group because I was born in Massachusetts not PR, because my Spanish had a more “American” accent that the others, because I “didn’t look Puerto Rican” enough. I was told I was too white, that I didn’t know what it was like to “really be Puerto Rican” and, therefore, could not be a part of their social circle. Ridiculed and shunned by folks of my own ethnicity and then chastised for having too many white friends. Still coming across this kind of nonsense in my 30’s – especially after marrying a Scottish-American. Guess what, people? You didn’t want me. So, what’s my Race Card? Racially, I consider myself to be caucasian. Ethnically, I consider myself to be Puerto Rican. Ethically, I consider myself human. Realistically, I consider myself an outsider among my own people, on both sides of the ethnic fence.

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