[Day 10 of Hispanic Heritage Month]
My whole life I have walked a thin line between being American and being Mexican.
I was raised in the medium-size (haha) border town of Del Rio, TX. I was exposed to 4-H, country music, and rodeos. But, at the same time, I was always traveling the 5 minutes across the border to see my family or just to go get a quick bite to eat. I was born and raised in the United states, con sangre Mexicana.
I love hip hop, hamburgers, pizza, Independence Day, Thanksgiving and will blast “Born in the U.S.A.” every time I am feeling patriotic. But, I am obsessed with boleros, posole, tacos al pastor, and all the traditions Mexico has for me to embrace. I am not perfect at speaking Spanish, but I also have trouble remembering English at times.
I grew up in a household with traditional Mexican ideals. We spoke Spanish and I wasn’t allowed to go to sleepovers or have a boyfriend. I was expected to always get straight A’s and would routinely get a speech about how hard my parents worked for my siblings and I to have a better life. I was constantly reminded of how I was destined to be better than my parents.
There are approximately 20 million adult U.S.-born children of immigrants living in the United States.
It’s weird…being 1st generation American. I grew up not understanding some of my friends. They would be rude to their parents, meanwhile I knew my parents would kill me if I tried any of that. Some of my friends had really liberal parents. They constantly had boyfriends (ever since elementary school) and they were allowed to go to Mexico to party on the weekends when I would have to sneak out (sorry Mami y Papi haha).
My friends all wanted to be writers, artists, and musicians. Their parents supported them even when they changed their minds about it. My parents always encouraged me to pursue something lucrative or something I was really, really, really good at. My parents basically gave me three choices: I could be a doctor, engineer, or go into business.
Being a 1st generation American you have to deal with your friends asking you to say words “in your language”. And, for me, I was always asked to help people with their Spanish homework even though I was just as lost as they were at times. But then, there is the other side of this situation…when you are in middle and high school and you feel shamed by your family for not knowing your native tongue well enough.
Hispanics and Asian Americans make up about seven-in-ten of today’s adult immigrants and about half of today’s adult second generation. Pew Research surveys find that the second generations of both groups are much more likely than the immigrants to speak English; to have friends and spouses outside their ethnic or racial group, to say their group gets along well with others, and to think of themselves as a “typical American.”
When I came to college there were many people that I met that would ask me “where are you REALLY from?” way too frequently. “So are you Mexican?” “No?” “So then you’re American?” “No?” “Then WHAT ARE YOU?”
I am Mexican American. I am tired of being criticized for loving the United States, but for also embracing my Mexican heritage and traditions. I am in-between two worlds. It’s something only a few can understand. Being 1st generation American you constantly feel like you don’t know who you are because you love two very different cultures at the same time. And if you ever love one more than the other, at any instance, you feel like you are cheating on the other.
I think Abraham Quintanilla said it best:
“Japanese-Americans, Italian-Americans, German-Americans, their homeland is on the other side of the ocean. Ours … is right next door. Right over there. And we gotta prove to the Mexicans how Mexican we are. And we gotta prove to the Americans how American we are. We gotta be more Mexican than the Mexicans and more American than the Americans both at the same time. It’s exhausting. Damn! Nobody knows how tough it is to be a Mexican-American.”
Yo soy Americana y Mexicana. No soy ni de aquí, ni de allá.
Stay in love,
Anali – The Nueva Latina
