Personal Narrative: Growing Up In A Latino Culture

As an undergraduate student, the topics that emerged from writing research and essay papers were topics that I or others could relate to. The opportunity to participate in research came to me, I could not resist but to pursue being a part of it. I was in the developmental lab organized by Dr. Knifsend for the past two years of my undergraduate career.

As a first generation, Mexican-American student who is proud of being involved in both Greek life and the Theatre community on campus, I believe that I have a very unique position as a member of the Cornell community. As a first generation, Mexican American student I know the struggles that come with navigating the college process and all the obstacles that come with it. I can empathize with others who might be facing the same struggles and I enjoy being as helpful as possible, so that others can avoid some of the road blocks that I faced during the college search process. As a member of the Greek community, I understand the importance of philanthropy and building a network with other diverse minds. Through this community I have come to value

My parents always wanted to give their children the life they never had. I am Mexican-American, both of my parents immigrated from Mexico to the U.S. before I was born. I have numerous relatives, including my older sister, who do not have the same opportunities I have to achieve success because they are undocumented. For them, college was only a dream that could never be attained. Being the first U.S. citizen out of my entire family affected the way I thought about life. It was expected that I would attend college because I was the only one who had access to all the resources granted to American citizens. Although, I agreed with my family, the pressure to succeed and be a role model to my younger siblings was overwhelming.

I have never experienced racism. However, I am not oblivious to those who have experienced racial confrontations. I have heard nasty comments such as “spic” and “wetback” and any other derogatory term that is out there used against my people. I have not always accepted or been proud of my family’s background. expand here.

Much to my own embarrassment, my Hispanic heritage had been a thing I hardly thought of. My Father left my family when I was young, and with him went the hopeful wisps I had of learning about myself. It’s not to say that I wasn’t aware that I was Hispanic, but rather, growing up in a mainly white household I didn’t think I had any right to claim my ethnicity. However, the more I look around me and learn about the community Hispanics have grown accustomed to, the more I find that I understand where I came from. To me, being Hispanic isn’t about what you were told when you were younger, or the traditions you grew up with. Rather, being Hispanic is about learning where you come from, and learning about those who share your same heritage. ‘Hispanic’

“Wow...there is no way you’re Latino. You’re way too white!” was the ignorant remark made by a one of my peers during my school’s annual Latin-American Fest. Initially, hearing this claim made me look into the mirror. I began to stroke my face and examine my physical features. Was this true? Was I not Latino enough? Did the amount of melanin or lack thereof deem me as Latino?

Being born into a Latino immigrant family has had both perks and downsides throughout my life. I was born into a diverse culture of incredible food, a beautiful language, many traditions, and a huge community of wonderful people. However, I don’t feel as if I live in a community where I fully belong. My entire life, I’ve lived in Rhinebeck, NY, a place where diversity is not a strong suit. I’ve gone to a school filled with kids whose lives are completely different than mine. In my class, there are only two Latino students: me and another girl named Iridian. Of course, my skin color and curly hair have made me feel as if I stick out like a sore thumb. In elementary school, I thought it was the only thing that set me apart from peers.

For our families with Latino roots, we had four speakers; Jesse Farias, Elia Banuelos Padron, Kathleen Cifuents Nekumanesh, and Eduardo Fabian Paramo. Indeed, Jesse, Elia, and Eduardo mention how their parents including themselves had to migrate to the United State for a better life from Mexico, Elia and Kathleen mention how their religion was Catholic, and within Elia’s family they would exhibit male supremacy with strict gender role. I was easily identified with all speakers because I am also a Latina. My parents migrated from Mexico to the United Stated for a better life to obtain the American Dream. I was happy to hear from Jesse that his dad is from Michoacan because my dad and mom’s family are from the same state. Even though I was not

Looking back to the past, before I was born, I never really knew where my ancestors came from or why they even came here in the first place. It was never made a big deal in my family to talk about our history and the reasons why they came to American. So, I decided to do a little research and find out a little bit about myself, my culture, and my communication styles. I asked for a little bit of help from my grandmothers from each side of my family. I got an abundance of information that opened my eyes to a new past that I didn’t even know about.

As the child of Mexican immigrants, I am always encouraged to work to the best of my ability because of the sacrifices and struggles my family went through to get where we are today. Too young to remember, I am constantly reminded of the difficulties my family experienced as they attempted to rebuild their lives in a new country with nothing but their clothes on their backs and the few cash they had in their pockets. The place we called home was a shabby, old apartment in a neighborhood where the crime rate seemed as if it doubled in a matter of seconds. At a point in our lives my family begged for pennies to afford medicine from gas stations, and even the dollar store when we fell ill. It was never that we were out of money, but we were just financially unstable. We had a roof over our heads, food on our table, clothes, and even a family car, but my father’s income was not always enough to support the life of a growing family and on top of that, enough to invest in my family’s future.

My eyes reveal my story. Although I was born in the United States, my Mexican heritage shines through my hazel eyes. I am proud of both my American and Mexican identity. My Grandparents on both sides immigrated from Mexico to Southern, California before my parents were born. In our home, we celebrate our Mexican culture through cooking traditional meals and celebrating traditional holidays, such as Día de los muertos. My Family creates an altar decorated with candles, flowers, colorful trimmings and offerings for our loved ones who have passed. I feel fortunate my Mexican heritage is intertwined with my American identity.

A year and a half ago I moved from Venezuela to the US with my family; since then I have tried my best to make this sacrifice worth it and make my family proud. Leaving everything that you own behind and moving somewhere new with only a couple of luggage with you is extremely difficult economically, which is why my family is currently experiencing financial difficulties that make it more difficult for me to be able to afford the costs of a good college education. I currently work 3 jobs cleaning houses to help my family, however, it is still not enough to afford a college education. Being an immigrant is a part of my identity and it has shaped my character into what I believe is a hard-working student and person. At West Marshall high school

Communication apprehension has been a struggle for me being an immigrant from Mexico. Conversing in my native language I am very vocal, participative and communicative with extensive vocabulary. Communication in a second language presented a language barrier and apprehension of making grammar mistakes and embarrassment of my accent.

Liliana while I did not live in the exact same situation as yours, I can definitely relate due to coming from a Mexican household as well. Many of the females in my family, from both my mother's and father's side, do not work outside the house as well back in Mexico, including my mother who lives here in Arizona because that was what they were taught and used to seeing in households. In my youth, I was often told from family members that I should strive for better than just relying on a husband for support because of how society is changing now and how unfair it is with only depending on them. I was raised in the U.S, but my parents immigrated here and adopted many of the values held here compared to the ones they had prior in Mexico such as

Who am I? Who am I is what I tend to ask myself often, more than I probably should. That question floats around in my head from day to day waiting to be answered. Well to answer my question, I’m my roots. My Mexican roots have shaped me into the person I am today any many ways. Such as, the food I love to eat, the languages I speak, the music I enjoy listening to, the places I enjoy going to, all of my traditions, how I dress, and my name. All of those factors tie into who I am, Alejandra. I have Mexican blood running through my veins, which I’m very proud of. I have my parents to thank for who I am.