Being the daughter of an immigrant, I am filled with immense pride in my family and where we come from. My dad crossed the border in 1995 and that is something I am proud to display and I’m sure many others like me feel the same way! I love sharing my father’s story and talking about where we come from. As latina women we come from a long line of hardworking people all fighting for a bright future. However, too often are our spirits tested.
A moment in my life that I know I will not soon forget was at the lunch table my freshman year of high school. Yep, it was that long ago, and it still haunts me. It was 2015 and the topic of deportation and immigration were heavy on everyone’s minds during that election year. Those seated next to me started on the topic of immigration and spoke harshly about their views on it. Their voices still echo in my ears and the faint glances are burned into my skin. After a few minutes of debating about whether or not it was “right” and whether or not they agreed with it, one of the girls sitting across from me looked me straight in the eye, smirked and proceeded to tell me something that would practically turn my world upside down:
“No offense, but I personally believe that your father isn’t benefiting this country by being here. People like your dad just… don’t work as hard as my father does.”
The anger I felt was unlike anything I had felt before. It was a mixture of confusion, embarrassment and shock. In that split second I hated my culture and I questioned who I was. While I sat there staring at her debating whether I should jump across the table and force her to apologize or simply get up and leave after she had not just insulted me, but my hardworking father, I finally understood what my mother meant when she would tell me, “not everyone is going to like you.” It was much different than when I’d come home crying in elementary school after some girl on the playground said she didn’t want to play with me. Those words actually had a much more deep-rooted meaning that I was slowly starting to process. Not everyone is going to like the pigment of our skin that is colored with the blood, sweat and tears of our ancestors. Not everyone is going to like who we are and not everyone is going to like what we’re made of.
After that moment, I began listening closer to my parents’ conversations and watching the interactions around me…
Before my father started his own business, I’d see him come home from work visibly upset. Listening to him confide in my mother, I could hear just how hurt he was. He was made fun of relentlessly at work simply because of the way he sounded when he tried to speak English. He was sincerely trying to get better and struggled with learning the language, but the fact that his coworkers knew what he was trying to say, and instead of helping him, they would make him feel stupid and would laugh at him, of course this embarrassed him. Obviously, my father couldn’t tell them how much it bothered him; he wouldn’t be able to get his point across without stumbling through his words giving them even more of a reason to laugh. So, he’d hide the hurt and simply laugh along. It hurt me more than words could tell watching the strongest most selfless man I’ve come to know break down and see pieces of his confidence wither away. It was traumatizing! I was taught from a young age to treat everyone with respect, to bite my tongue, never play the victim and to not put yourself in unnecessary dangerous situations, but tell me how I am supposed to look at the men that made my father feel worthless in the eyes and say, “Hello, it is very nice to meet you.”
Racial slurs, immigration, and deportation are too often topics people find comedic and I don’t see them going away anytime soon if ever. Growing up in a predominately white town and going to a school that had practically zero diversity, I grew very used to the “jokes” unfortunately. It’s hard to see that people are so comfortable with saying these things to our faces and have the audacity to call us “sensitive” when we try to inform them that what they’re saying is offensive – to no avail obviously. They know what they’re doing. Through the last 19 years of my life the best piece of advice I’ve been given is that you can’t let the meaningless words they fling at you have any say in how you carry yourself. Don’t let the words they say make you any less proud of who you are and where you come from because they have nothing on us. You have to stand tall, keep your chin up and prove to no one, but yourself that you deserve everything you have. I am deserving of being able to go to a 4-year University which I worked hard to get into! I am deserving of the roof over my head, I am deserving of the clothes on my back, my mother deserves respect, my father deserves a chance and WE deserve to be here.
If anything, we must thank those that think lesser of us because they fuel our already strong desire to succeed. Our skills and talents that have been passed on to us from older generations will help us prevail for the rest of our lives. So honestly, if I could say one thing to the tormentors, I’d simply say thank you. Our confidence and abilities to speak up and persevere are unmatched. What we go through and deal with every day is nothing we need to be ashamed of. Be proud of how much we have grown and how our desire to help others is so great.
We grow up thinking these are things we need to be used to: the dirty looks in stores when talking to our family in their native language, the comments said behind our backs, but still loud enough we know we were intended to hear. The “funny” jokes people are comfortable enough to say to our faces and the people that question our achievements. I learned that I will have to deal with this the rest of my life, but I’ll choose how it impacts me. Being a Latina in today’s society is both scary and exciting. The world is full of so many opportunities and chances for us. Our ancestors who traveled here years ago wished and prayed for this day. The day their sacrifices would pave the road for their children, and now it’s finally here.