Who I Am Me Analysis

Hispanic American community are rooted from their origins in Cuba, Mexico, Puerto Rico, and other Spanish speaking countries that have come together and form a culture in the United State of America. The culture is built in different categories; for instance, religion, social custom, health practices their privacy, and birth. They come from a comprehensive familiar culture that has been called the second in America. Because of their pride and affection they feel unsafe to give up their past. Their notoriety in the United State has been their resistance to assimilate; their guarded image of Hispanic-American culture has been the tongue of flame. However, their remarkable legacy, Hispanics carry from Latin America is not their language, an

Growing up in a Hispanic household has shaped and built my values in life. At Appleton North High School, I am one out of the few Hispanic students. Knowing that my parents have migrated to America to give me a better future has motivated me to make it happen. Although, as a Mexican-American, I have felt out of place as a minority. However, with time I learned to accept my cultural differences. In fact, to this day, I thank my widowed father for the sacrifices and greater opportunities he has given me. My goal is to keep representing the few Hispanic students in college by working hard to achieve my career goals; not all Hispanics are fortunate enough to attend college. I also work to inspire young Hispanics to find their potential and follow

I’m an American grown up with Mexican roots; with all their traditions, religious beliefs, holidays, and foods. I come from a small town of south Texas, called The Rio Grande Valley, where I live with my average size family. I’ve grown up with my family facing hardships, and flaws yet united always. As time has gone by I’ve come to learn that everything around me has shaped me to be the young lady I am today, and I’m grateful for that.

I’ve always been proud to be Mexican-American. I recognize that this aspect of myself makes me unique. I represent a rich culture with so much to offer. My family immigrated to North Carolina in the late 90’s; however, almost two decades of separation from our hearth hasn’t dulled our Mexican culture and pride. Now, more than ever, it is important for young Hispanics to embrace their roots. It is imperative for young Hispanics to send a message that being American and Hispanic isn’t mutually exclusive. Hispanics, first-generation, second-generation, or even fourth generation, have so much to offer to the United States. I embrace my Mexican heritage- my Hispanic heritage, because I want other young people to do so too. I want to lead by example and one day be able to pass the torch to a next generation of young Hispanics.

Being a Hispanic doesn’t define me. Neither being a student in the USA doesn’t define me, but what does really defines me is where I come from and how I ended up as a Hispanic living in the USA and now being a student with great goals to achieve and complete. I was born in San Vicente, El Salvador, where poverty and harsh life survival exists. We survived only by selling fruits and vegetables on the streets, most of the time we didn’t have anything to eat, we had to eat leftover food in trash cans by the restaurants in the city. Our homes were made out of carton, aluminum, and mud.

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.

As I have blossomed into the individual I am today I have developed a significantly different outlook from most of my peers. My mother migrated from Colombia to the United States because she wanted to create a better life for my older brother and me. Her journey inspires me and it a journey which many individuals with Latino backgrounds have to undergo to have the polity to give their children education possibilities. The sacrifice that my mother and those like her have bared have revealed to me the importance of what it means to work hard. As a family of immigrants I have developed an appreciation for those close to me. Living in the United States I see my grandparents and all of my siblings every two years, I understand what it is too mean

At the age of 11, the news had never interested me until that day. I had begun my homework when a certain news reporter caught my attention. He was introduced as Jorge Ramos. He appeared on the TV screen, wearing an ironed white dress shirt and a striped blue tie. He was standing in front of a screen with bright graphs and pie charts reporting on bombing in the Middle East that had begun to occur more often in the past months. He spoke Spanish in such an articulate way, using many words that I did not understand. I noticed the way his tan face contorted into a deep sadness: his eyes were glossy and the wrinkles on his forehead became more prominent as he spoke. Immediately, I saw how compassionate he was. At the end of his report he urged viewers to donate to the Red Cross to aid the victims of the bombings and the tears threatened to fall from his eyes. From then on, I looked up to Jorge Ramos. Watching his reports daily made me realize that Latinos could also be smart, compassionate, and thoughtful, contrary to the stereotypes that are seen in the media. “Maybe being Latina isn’t so bad after all”, I

When I started school, I added student to my list. But this doesn’t just relate to me, everyone has their own lists, their own stories. When a couple has a child they become parents, two people with similar interests become friends, and peoples who share the same background create cultures. Author Gloria Anzaldua describes how she found her identity in her essay “How to Tame a Wild Tongue”. A story about both her feelings and her own story on the social and cultural difficulties Mexican immigrants faced when growing up in the southern United States. In Her essay she explains how there was 2 sides to the coin. They were ridiculed and forced to speak perfect English by their families and the US school system, but they were also antagonized by other more “pure” Mexicans for not speaking Spanish. Anzaldua says she first found her identity when she read her first book by another fellow Chicano. She says “a feeling of pure joy flashed through me…I felt like we really existed as a people” (211). Which is to say, that we as people tend to combine and live under one roof and when we find people who we can relate to, who we find a deep rooted connection, we feel pride and we rally around that feeling. “And peoples who share the same background create

I was born and raised in the beautiful country of Venezuela, in the lively and incessantly colorful city of Caracas until I was eight years old. I underwent the most important period of mental development in Caracas, meaning that my early identity and culture, my attitude towards the world and the way I perceived the greater part of it, were largely defined by the surrounding Hispanic culture of Venezuela. Living in Venezuela, and my entire family being Venezuelan, formed more than just my language and expression habits, it formed the way I see the world and interact with it. As such, “Hispanic” cultures are not merely those that were colonized by Spanish and Portuguese explorers, settlers, and conquistadors in the 16th and 17th century. Hispanic cultures, and Hispanic peoples, even those who have been affected by religious and cultural (even lingual) syncretism, are much more than that, and are more colorful and lively than that. Being Hispanic means that I can sit around with my family on Christmas Eve and eat ayacas, pernil, and pan de hamon, while listening to jovial Christmas songs and see the laughs on everyone’s faces parallel the brightness of the lights on the

Living in the U.S has opened the doors of opportunities in my favor, but it has also exposed me to stereotypes of how I should be or act. I’ve seen how people in the streets look at me and my family. Sometimes, I don’t know if they look at us with fear or disapproval. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised either way. After all, it is what they have been taught by the media. Personally, the game that I’ve had to play has been facing this fake perspective of my culture in a foreign country and around the world. It’s a mold in which we are all supposed to fit. It makes me mad to see how students in the school halls make fun other Hispanic students. I do acknowledge that Latin American countries are sometimes dangerous, but, what country isn’t? So, because of the world’s focus on our badness, my generation is the one to pay the consequences. This is our every-day fight. Thinking about it, maybe that’s why I’ve seen many students who are Hispanic descendants hide who they really are and don’t have any interest

“Stupid Mexican!” She muttered as I accidently brushed her arm. I stopped and looked back she was beautiful. Her golden blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a sun kissed complexion hid her ignorance well. I went into the bathroom and starred at the reflection in the mirror. The almond shaped eyes stared back at the girl before them. Her skin was fair and her curly brown hair over whelmed the mirror. As I starred I my self the words resonated, “Stupid Mexican!” I was confused. I am Cuban and Salvadorian; I realized I didn’t know what either meant. My mother told me that her father was a Spanish Businessman who was traveling through El Salvador and met her mother, a native to the country that had never stepped foot outside the small town she was born in. She said that my father was Cuban. She would show me pictures of him and his parents his mother as dark as the night. Her hair too over whelmed her photos. His father was fair in completion. Even through the black and white photo his blue eyes pierced my soul like those of that beautiful women. And there stood my father between his parent’s fair skin, nappy hair, and almond shaped eyes. His smile revolted me all I saw was the man who left his five-year-old daughter for another life. A man who left me, his daughter, wondering who I was and were I came from.

When visiting Latin America, many are surprised with the diversity in the Spanish speaking world. Visitors are captivated by the richness of the culture and the beauty of the streets. They hope to find the richness, and maybe even riches, of the culture and country. They do not realize, however, what exactly they’ve stumbled across. They are not ready to comprehend the shades of brown that pass by them as the walk along the streets of Cuba, Nicaragua, Mexico, etcetera. Here, they are looking at the hidden faces of Latin America. It is here that they find that there is an unwritten rule in Spanish speaking countries.

Over the course of history, the term ‘Hispanic’ has been used to categorize a certain portion of the world’s population without knowing the true meaning behind the term. By definition, the term ‘Hispanic’ refers to “of or relating to the people, speech, or culture of Spain or of Spain and Portugal” (Webster, 2014). Another definition of this term is “of, relating to, or being a person of Latin American descent living in the United States; especially one of Cuban, Mexican, or Puerto Rican origin” (Webster, 2014). Before one can assume that they fully understand this controversial term, they must remember how the term came to be. The formation of this term began in the early years of the XV century when Spain and Portugal began the

Who we are? a brain teaser or simple question, if so why do some people spend decades trying to figure out that question out and some just spend a couple seconds. How can just a simple question be a critical choice to our success and our personal identity. What does this question really means. Who we are is not something that people tell us, is who we choose to be. Who we are is a question that I have struggle with and know after 8 years,2920 days,70080 hours,252288000 seconds I think, I mean I belive i can tell you.