When I visit my hometown of Edinburg, TX, a swarm of people looking exactly like me surrounds me. For once, I’m not the only minority in a classroom or friend group. I am the exact opposite. I’m the majority. I should feel at home, elated to be surrounded by my family and culture. But if anything, I tend to feel a little lost.
I moved away from Edinburg when I was 7 and moved 6 hours north into the suburbs of Houston when my father got a job promotion. I remember crying as we drove away from our old home, leaving behind years of memories. I like to think I was crying for what I knew I would miss out on growing up there.
Instead of growing up with taquerias, carne asadas, and the Spanish language, my new home had a Starbucks in every direction and yoga moms. All of my white friends in elementary school had never heard of my favorite dish – conchitas. And they told me their grandmothers had never made them “papas y huevos.” What little connection I had to my culture that age was slowly fading away as I desperately tried to integrate with the girls in my schools.
If you used to ask me about my culture, I would jokingly say, “what culture?” I feel like I missed out on my chance to have a strong connection to my Hispanic heritage. However, that isn’t me. I will never feel truly Hispanic, just as I will never fully immerse into American culture. The label Mexican-American is there for me specifically, to grab onto and hold and say, “this is who I am!” I try to remember this, but it is hard, especially when I go to a predominantly white college. I am not one or the other. I am both. And it is beautiful.
There will be days when I want to go to the nearest michoacana and grab some conchas and horchata when I’m missing my grandparents. I’ll butcher my Spanish talking to the cashier but walk out proud with my little horde of snacks. There will also be days when I enjoy a game of cornhole while celebrating a classic American holiday like Fourth of July with hot dogs. Both make up who I am. My story is a swirl of two cultures blending together to make me who I am.
Remember, you are not lost if you don’t feel like you fit the cookie cutter mold for your culture. You are a beautiful mosaic of the environments and people you grew up around, and that is something to be celebrated.