To Be or Not To Be . . . Latina/Hispanic

It's been a long personal battle, but I think it's time to name my thoughts towards the assigned identities of Latina and Hispanic, and what it means to be Latina or Hispanic. Many times I am faced with the question, "How do you identify, Latina or Hispanic?" As I think about my respond cautiously, many thoughts run through my head: Is this person of Latin descent (any country in Latin America other than Mexico), is this person Mexican, or is this individual a scholar (or so they think they are) and solely want to "educate" me on the origin of the term Hispanic and Latina? Either or, I will probably get the same respond from the scholar and the individual from Latin descent, and I really am not sure what respond I'd get from the person who might be of Mexican descent, because in reality this question almost always comes from the latter two. Through out this academic year I found myself contemplating and asking, "Who am I?" Out of many possible answers I always find myself wondering why I do not stick to one ethnic group/term? Will I always leave myself for question in regards to being Latina or Hispanic to others? And then I thought I had reached a conclusion, "Think what you want, I am Latina, Hispanic, and even South East Asian, I don't really care, but do not forget I am Texan, or Tejana". But in reality, I did care. Asides from pledging my allegiance to the great state of Texas, I long to solidify my identity of being Latina or Hispanic.

So, I got to thinking how in the Rio Grande Valley, where I attribute my early successes to, the HISPANIC population is largely composed of individuals from Mexican descent. Whether you came from Mexico or born from Mexican parents, we are all Hispanic, and referred ourselves as Hispanic. As I left for college, I landed at Texas A&M University, a predominantly white university that uses the 'coined' term Hispanic to refer to its Latino/Hispanic student population. This is where the 'education' of the term came to be. The word Hispanic is a term created by the dominant culture way back when, thus it was given and assigned to my people and culture. The term Latina/o was launched as a result of the chicano/a movement and created by Latinos themselves (or so I believe). But which brown people, for a lack of a better term, did this word refer to? If I refer myself to Latina, I will then get the question, "Oh, which Latin American country are you from?" In which I will then respond with "Well . . . I am from Texas but am from Mexican descent", which in turn I might get the "Oh then you're not Latin" respond, which I have received in the past, which will also stir up the feelings of invalidation towards my culture. (Which means, everything I stand for means nothing in the eyes of that individual thus devaluating my experiences and who I am, and I hate to even go there.) Now, if I respond with "I am Hispanic" then the conversation stops there, that is if the individual has no bias towards using the term Hispanic, which very often they do have a bias and so goes on the education of where the term Hispanic originated. If the conversation stops there, then I (at least) get the feeling that I have been accepted for who I am and for who I choose to me.

I know where the term is from and do not need to be educated and I prefer not to be in limbo. I am Hispanic from Texas and proud of it.

Thanks and gig'em!

"I am Two People"

In his book, Limbo, Lubrano highlights the many experiences people with working-class backgrounds go through when working towards white-collar dreams and life, also known as straddlers. I am a straddler. I come from a working-class family and because I am in school, in particular graduate school, I have already entered middle-class. However, I constantly find myself lost and out of place. I have been in Vermont for a year already, studying besides colleagues with completely different perspectives and backgrounds, and living with undergraduate students whose parents' income is probably four times as much as my family's income. Dining, shopping, and enjoying the fruits of life in Vermont has been tough to enjoy when knowing that back home things may not be going well. Doing things out of the ordinary in order to network and socialize comes with discomfort because sometimes it is not me. I find myself constantly putting this mask to get ahead and move with the crowd.

I went home three weeks ago after a 6-month dream in Vermont, and the first thing I did was attend a Mexican wedding. My heart knew I was home. I was smiling inside and out, and I knew at that moment, that I would experience culture shock again once I came back to Vermont. My feet danced to the beats of guapangos and banda music, although I have two left feet, but they still enjoyed themselves. My ears finally listened vigorously to the music of the mariachis, which I missed dearly. My first question after the invite to the wedding was, "Will there be mariachi music?" I was desperate for my culture. The wedding fed my thirst for my culture, and to that I am thankful for the invitation. After my 3-day excursion at the wedding, it was time to finally head home to the valley!

Upon arriving to the Valley, reality struck and I could not get Lubrano's words out of my head. I had woken up from my VT dream, and lets just say it wasn't a "sweet dream". Lubrano speaks about going away to college and individuals being in a dream, but then wake up once they go back home. I was home, but my sweet dream had just begun. I saw the many privileges my family had, which many in the dominant and sub-dominant groups would call disadvantages. The privileges of living day by day not knowing what awaits us. With funds running scarce, there is a fairly large list of things-to-do and fix-ups around the house but that did not stop us from having fun. I did as much as I could to help my family with the list. As much as I'd like to share our living situation, it hurts to even think about it. Let's just say I do not have the same worries when I am in VT. I have food, clean water, and a secured roof over my head. I constantly found myself telling my mom, "One more year, one more year and we will all graduate, and hopefully begin the big move from Sullivan City". That is another transition Lubrano speaks about. Straddlers do not only hope to make it to middle-class, but also hope and wish on the day that their family will join them as well. My mother's dream for us might be for us to get a successful job and live a successful life, but my dream is to someday repay my mother for her hard work and effort in raising 4 daughters. Leaving the Valley was bittersweet.

I am in VT now, and once again going through culture shock. I don't think I'll ever learn how to cope with the environment up here. The only way, I believe, will be to stay away from the Valley permanently, but that is not possible. While visiting at home, I had a successful meeting with the directors of the College Access and Support Programs at UTPA. They spoke about their accomplishments as directors, and the reasons of why they do what they do. They have esperanza, hope. Hope that they can help working-class students achieve their dreams and those of their parents. Sounds familiar.

In the meantime, I must put on a face, expand my network, and learn how to survive as a middle-class individual.