Cascada Blanca,
Troy, NY
For over half my life, I thought I was Puerto Rican. My grandparents lived in Puerto Rico, they spoke Spanish, they were engrained in a local community and knew a lot about the island. My family visited them at least once a year. My grandparents started teaching me about the island and I jumped in headfirst. I was excitedly learning Spanish, making friends there, and learning everything I could about the history and culture. It was so wonderful and I was so happy to be able to be a part of it. Until my identity turned out to be a lie and I was an idiot for believing that. I’m just a basic, racist white girl with no culture at all. I took a DNA test to see if there was anything I could fill the void with, but it just made me feel even worse. I can’t talk about this to anyone so I just keep lying to the people who know me.
