Orgullo Mexicana-Americana
I’ve been thinking and reflecting on what’s happening to my Latino community, and my heart breaks for mi gente. While I may be Mexican American and we’re a derivative of the Motherland, I still can’t help but feel completely wrecked about what’s happening on this side of the border. The Mexican-American identity is also very complex, with that whole “No soy de aqui ni alla” feeling, yet we exist navigating two identities, and for a good portion of my life, I often felt like I had to choose one. I am both. Some days are more Mexican than others, and some more American, as shameful as I even feel to call myself one right now, but I can’t change where I was born. Yes, it’s a “them” thing and a lack of education, knowledge, and experience; however, that is not an excuse, nor is it a reason for so much hatred to be directed towards us or any other Latinos; really, any oppressed community. In the interest of vulnerability and transparency, I felt sheltered to an extent until I left Texas and started to see the world. While there may have been times when my religious upbringing perhaps kept me from interacting with others fully, I want to say that I didn’t match energy or sh*t on people, no matter how different they may have been from me. Even if I did, thank goodness I had the drive and desire to learn more and course-correct. Now that I have learned, been in therapy, and grown older (clears throat), excuse me, grown in wisdom, I view the world very differently.
(Netchev; World Encyclopedia, 2026)
Still, I wonder what my people have done wrong, yet try to exist and build a better life for generations to come? We’ve done nothing but share our gifts with the world to help make it better. We gave the world it’s modern day calendar. We invented chocolate and tequila. We had clean cities and sewage systems before some civilizations were even born. Our food! How could anyone hate tacos or conchas? Of course, America is just now catching on to the concha craze as if it’s a delicacy, mira que cute. It was my childhood norm. I don’t get it. It’s 2026, and yet the wrong color of skin is enough to get you killed. I will never understand why there is so much hatred. In 1910, many Mexicans were either hanged or lynched during “La Mantanza”. In 1917, Mexican men were required to undergo delousing after crossing the border in El Paso. At that time, women were asked to strip naked in front of federal agents, and their clothing was treated with cyanide gasoline (the same type of gas later used during the holocaust). Hostility began to grow again in the 1930s, during the Great Depression and the era of the “Bracero Program,” when mi gente got blamed for the problems in this country and for labor shortages, even though that’s the original “why” for bringing them over. 1954, then came “Operation Wetback” during the McCarthy era, and as hard as they tried to erase us, we’re still here! Here we are in 2026, and the Supreme Court ruled that speaking Spanish is grounds for questioning your citizenship. We never crossed the border; the border crossed us. More than half of this country was originally Mexico.
I remember growing up in South Texas, where speaking Spanish in the classroom got us in trouble. So I didn’t practice as much as I could have and hid my fluency because of those who saw me as less than or treated me differently because of it. I can also recall a relationship in my past that I knew wasn’t going to end in marriage because I’m Mexican. Still, I wouldn’t trade my upbringing for the world. I’ll never forget this moment at TCBY (The Country’s Best Yogurt) when I was about 5 or 6, before my father got sick, when I asked where I came from. “Daddy, am I different? I don’t look like the girls at school.” My dad answered back, “You’re Mexican. Why do you ask? I said, “Well, I don’t have blonde hair and blue eyes. I don’t look like the girls at school.” I remember my dad telling me, “Mijita, you’re Mexican, and being Mexican is different, but also a beautiful thing. You are not less than anyone.” The other big lesson my dad gave me was the idea that I could do or be anything in this world if I worked hard enough. O como dice mi gente, “Ponte a las pilas”. My mamá is a wise woman. I remember growing up, she’d say to me, Sarita, “Don’t ever let anything or anyone rob you of your joy”. I remember always being told to be the bigger person, to be kind anyway, even when someone has wronged you (I didn’t learn that people can take advantage of that till later in life; I now know the meaning of the word boundaries). Plus, that whole “You can forgive, but you don’t have to let them back in” part, something I also had to learn the hard way. She raised me to not hate and to always wish my “enemies” well. I never realized until now how much of that is part of my Mexican culture.
When the President of Mexico can quietly send troops to Texas to help with the floods, despite how poorly she’s been treated. Or even now that Venezuela is in dire need of help, and how much nuestra gente has experienced racism, and yet they still show up. If that isn’t kindness and compassion, then I don’t know what is. That is leadership. We don’t know anything else, most of us anyway, and I just think that is the most beautiful thing about being Mexican, and on a larger scale, Latina as a whole. We are such a vibrant community with so much passion for life, and we feel deeply. Yet, our countries are all so different. We are, however, tied together by the Spanish language (thanks, Spain, had to, for laughter’s sake). Even then, there are so many different variances and dialects within the Spanish realm. While I’m fluent in Spanish, it is more Tex-Mex Spanish, and this is a thing too. There are so many issues within the Hispanic/Latino community that need to be fixed and healed, too, which is a whole other can of worms in itself. However, I would be betraying my ancestors, God/the universe/source, and my family if I kept hatred in my heart. It doesn’t come naturally, and it’s taught because someone somewhere along the way didn’t do their job as a parent, or experienced trauma growing up. All of that is valid, too. I don’t know if everyone is given the gift of course correction, or if they choose to ignore it out of willful ignorance, or if it is out of evil that humans hurt each other. This is a larger conversation, I realize, but it all comes down to love: if you love yourself, you don’t maliciously harm people. Two wrongs don’t make it right. Then again, when is it ever “right?”
As tempting as it may be in this moment in history to give in to the darker sides of human nature, I am holding on to so much faith and hope in my heart. I see everyone as an extension of myself. I could never intentionally cause harm to anyone. I care too much, love too much to do that. I’ll always be too much. I’d rather be “too much” than not enough. I am praying/sending healing energy for nuestra comunidad, Venezuela, and for the world. I don’t understand why equal somehow equates to less than in the eyes and minds of others. I’m also aware I can’t control others, just myself. The World Cup alone is proof that we can get along with each other, and there doesn’t have to be a financial or malicious motivation behind it. Speaking of the World Cup, I am LOVING that Mexico is being seen for the beautiful country it is. All countries are beautiful, at least for the ones I’ve seen, and for the others, I CAN’T wait to learn more about.
I remember being home in Texas recently, Houston to be more specific, when one of my gal pals said to me, “I wore a bright color just for you to honor our Mexican heritage.” I thought to myself two things: “Wow, that’s so thoughtful, and two, am I that Mexican?” Looking back on that comment, I now think, “Huh, I guess I am!” I never really noticed before, I’m just being myself. I don’t know if it was the family dinners nearly every weekend in Mexico when my father was still alive before he got sick, or growing up with the food and the music, but I’ve always loved where I come from. Why would I hide it? I remember being “faked & baked” in college, or at least trying to be so I’d look more “Mexican,” as if lying in a tanning bed was healthy for my skin. As a fair-skinned Latina, I do have to be mindful that I don’t overexpose myself to the sun’s cancer-causing rays. Skin cancer runs in my family (it ends with me; I refuse to speak that over myself or future generations). So I tried really hard to look like one growing up, when really I was always “Mexican” enough just as I am. What is a “Mexican” even supposed to look like? We come in all colors, shapes, and sizes. We have Black Mexicans, Asian Mexicans, we’re as flavorful as bold as the country itself. I will say that I grew so tired of having to justify how Mexican I am to my own kind or even others who have their own limited beliefs about what we’re supposed to look and sound like. I don’t get it. I don’t have to; it’s not mine to own. I refuse to shrink myself or be put in a box. No one defines my Latine for me. I do. Someday, maybe, though not in the next census, I’ll check the box that says human. No gender box, no sexual orientation box (wtf does that even matter?) No religion box, or income box either. There really needs to be a scale (PhD humor), not a box that asks how kind you are as a human being, and another that asks how much compassion and empathy you have for others. What if this were the type of scale by which we measured “success”? Wild thought I know, God forbid a woman speaks her mind, or she’ll be stoned or burned at the stake.
America, where did we go wrong? I want to believe we weren’t always this vile and repulsive. Yet, our history indicates otherwise, no matter how many times this country has tried to repackage and repurpose the idea that we’re a perfect nation and that only the wealthy elite are of value, while everyone else is seen as less than. The white picket fence has got to go! It’s tacky & outdated. If someone has that, by all means, I’m happy for you. Correct me if I’m wrong here, but wasn’t this country founded on the idea of “life, liberty,” and the pursuit of happiness? That anyone can live their life, be who they are, love who they love, express themselves without infringement from the Government? America was founded to escape religious persecution, and on the belief that WE. THE. PEOPLE are what matter. The words at the feet of Lady Liberty read, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.” That we take care of our own. If you come here, you’re one of us. My, how far we’ve strayed. How the so-called “elite” would rather profit from the propaganda deliberately constructed to pit us against each other. It is completely immoral and heinous. It’s also not what Jesus was about. I still love my country, even though it is very hard to love her right now, but I can be grateful for the change and progress that is still happening even as I type this. It’s called “America the beautiful” because each one of us who lives here, whether indigenous, native, or immigrant. Though I am someone of two worlds, this is also what I love most about the other half of me. The part where I grew up with the idea of what diversity represents. How blessed I am to live in New York City. I don’t know if the city chose me or I chose it, but this city is humanity all together at once. I may be biased, but I believe she is the best of America, and really the world. She has a way of leading you back to yourself, the you you always were, but too afraid to be. That could also just be life in general. Still, I feel incredibly blessed to be here, living in this city at this time in history. She keeps me going even when I don’t want to go, but thank goodness, because I don’t know what else I’d do. I really do think my soul would cease to exist. (Dramatic, I know, it’s what Mexicans do best!) Jokes aside, I know I’d figure it out and begin again. But then again, ew if it’s not New York. I’m digressing…
I hate that historically, change has come about through violence and oppression. It’s as though humankind hasn’t learned its lesson. It doesn’t have to be this way. There’s always a better solution, a better choice, and a healthier way to live and to get things done. It is the year of the fire horse, and regardless of one’s faith, or even those who may not believe in anything, perhaps we can still hope that we are where we are supposed to be, in this day and age, and even in the worst of times, better is still on its way. It has to be. Besides, what no longer serves has got to go. No matter how murky or dark the hour, as long as there is love in this world, there is light; humankind must press towards it with grace and dignity. Philosophies and ideals that both countries have taught me. Unas filosofías que ambos países me han enseñado: al final, para nuestra comunidad latina, o sea, mi gente, seguimos adelante con ánimo, ganas y fe. ¡Te quiero mucho! I have also traveled enough to know & met so many strangers that these philosophies are also not exclusive to these two countries either. While I don’t know the answers to all of the world’s problems, my heart aches tremendously for the amount of suffering it’s experiencing on so many levels.
Culture is a beautiful thing; it should be celebrated. Why would we ever all want to be the same? It’s our differences & contributions to this world that make it beautiful just by being who we are. We also don’t always have to agree on everything, but it is those differences & learning from each other that also make the ride worthwhile. Why wouldn’t we want to celebrate each other? I don’t get it.
As messy and complex as the world continues to be, the only thing I could ever be is myself. In my case, I happen to be of two worlds, and while one world is literally causing utter chaos to the rest of the world thanks to mass poor decision-making (look at me being PC, diplomatically framing the message, it’s like I’m growing up), and the idea of “elitism” being capital is extremely limiting. I’m still so damn proud of America’s better parts. The ones out there every day hustling so that America can “snap out of it” (iykyk) and find herself again. Thank GOD my “Mother” world is exerting her dominance over me right now, porque si no, I’m going to have to take my chancla to D.C. You know what? I just might. I could do it. Picture it: Sarita takes D.C.! It would be a Mexican, a woman of color, to save this f-ing country, how on brand for America. Or maybe I should just light a candle? Then again, I don’t know if there is one large enough? (That’s what she said, sorry God).
I need America to go to therapy, work on herself, learn about self-acceptance, and right her wrongs. I’m traumatized. It’s probably a safe bet that we all are to some extent right now. I don’t know if this makes us masochists? We know better, yet, to some extent, it seems we enjoy the torture. As a Professor, I would very much love to be rightfully compensated for the work I do, goodness! They couldn’t pay me enough. Still believe in my country and the value of education. I also love myself enough to know that I hate seeing my fellow Americans, or anyone for that matter, suffer, yet another philosophy both countries have taught me, and also non-exclusive to us alone, but it is that hope I cling to, and though pride may be a bad thing to a certain extent, it is also what drives me. I love these two countries so much, and somehow proud to be from both.
Dear world, I’m sorry. I didn’t vote for this. What is happening here, as well as the changes in democracy, the idiocracy ramblings of those who continue to spew hatred, negativity, and falsehoods into the world, do not reflect who we are as Americans, nor who we are as a country. Without getting any longer, I’m aware that our history is dark and has always been for quite some time. There is also a change happening. Positive change, and like all things associated with change, there is still great fear amongst many. I pray that we also find a healthier way towards said change, without any malicious financial intentions behind it, too. I pray that we don’t get ourselves killed out of the many mistakes this administration is making. I pray that resources are distributed equally so that no one loses their healthcare, and that those who are suffering or have to do without somehow come into overflow. Mostly, I hope and pray we find our way back home. This is not who we are. Please do not give up on us.
Canada and the rest of the Americas, because you’re also American. I’m also sorry that, historically, my country has overlooked & overshadowed you. I don’t know if it’s our fault alone that the world continues to define “America” by this country alone, if it is, sorry again, world. I wish I could speak to education systems in other countries, when America is much bigger than the “United” States. Speaking of unity, this is something we MUST all get back to. You don’t have to like everyone you interact with, but that doesn’t mean you treat them any less respectfully or deny them basic human dignity.
In the words of the great Mother Teresa, “If you judge people, you have no time to love them”.
