Knowing My Purpose

Someone told me a year ago I should have attended another university because it seemed I didn’t appreciate the opportunity I had at BYU. That hurt. They were basically told me I didn’t belong here. I have expressed my feelings as a minority student many times before because I felt someone needed to tell others there are students struggling at BYU due to their ethnicity. It’s a problem I strongly believe shouldn’t be ignored especially during a vital stage in a young adult’s life. Although I feel there are other issues we need to take notice as well that does not only deal with ethnicity or race. Over the course of now five years, I have learned a lot while being at BYU but I have especially learned that I belong here. I belong here the way I am, as the person I am, and as me.

That individual who called me out for not appreciating my education did not know every struggle I was enduring. I have voiced my experiences that involved my ethnicity and heritage, which is something that lacks in the BYU community. I wanted others to understand how difficult it can be as a student of color. Besides struggling with accepting myself for who I was, I was also struggling with knowing my purpose of being here at BYU, in Provo, and in college in general. There came a point where I just wanted to quit and leave school. I basically hit rock bottom and I felt I was suffocating because I thought I had no purpose. I was devastated, felt alone and felt no one understand what I was going through. I remember one night I just had it. I had enough of the ongoing roller coaster of emotions. I got down on my knees and told my Heavenly Father how I have been feeling. I think I have never cried during a prayer as much as I did until that night. It came to the point where I asked Him if leaving BYU was what I was suppose to do. I got the strongest answer of no. I felt devastated. How could my Heavenly Father expect me to stay when I felt I wasn't accomplishing anything? I then asked Him to give me the reason of why I had to stay. I needed something to keep me going. I could not get through another year without something pushing me. The answer I received was very personal but I will share this, it was not just about me. At the point I told myself “okay, this will affect others, not just me, I can do this.” The Spirit did not tell me what I was going to go through in the next few years and how it will shape me but it did tell me something to ensure that I would stay.

The following school year things started to improve dramatically. My life was not at all perfect but I started to have a different outlook on my education and reason of being in Provo. I began to be more involved in various associations and contribute back to groups I have participated in. Also that semester I walked into my first makeup class and a whole new world was introduced to me which I have been developing in the last two years. The feeling of knowing my place and knowing I had a purpose began to unfold. Now more than 2 years after that prayer I see what my Heavenly Father did not want me to miss out on by leaving BYU. I have had many opportunities since then where I have been able to grow whether it has been through an internship, a show, marching band, or even my classes. I may not fully understand how all these things will affect my future right now but I know there’s a plan for me and there’s a reason I had to be here at BYU during this time.

I often think back to that hurtful comment I was told. They didn’t consider that maybe I had to be here at BYU to learn certain things about my potential and gain confidence to reach certain goals. I know BYU is not for everyone but it is for me. I have had my ups and downs but in reality everything I have gone through has made me into a stronger person that will not allow others to push me around. It’s difficult to live in a community where you’re expected to fit in the same mold but in reality I’m not like everyone else. At first it was hard to “fit in” at BYU but it was not until I was truly myself that I was able to really understand why I was here. It wasn't until I actually had a desire to change something and ask for help. The story of Enos comes to my mind. Although I was not praying to my Father in Heaven about my sins, I felt I was pouring my whole heart out because I was in a desperate need of help. I begged for a direction. I begged for an answer. I begged to feel loved. And He answered. My prayer has been answered through a series of life experiences over the past years and I know I will continue to have my prayer answered as I follow the direction of the Spirit. Big changes will be coming in my life soon but I know wherever I go that I need to be there because my Father in Heaven will not lead me somewhere I don’t belong. College for me hasn’t just been about the classes I have taken or the amount of football games I have attended but has been about growing up and developing myself for the better. I am not the same 18 year old who arrived four years ago for her first year of college. Life happened and I have been shaped into the person I am today. I came to an understanding that I belonged here and everything that has happened to me was for a reason.

 "And my soul hungered; and I kneeled down before my Maker, and I cried unto him in mighty prayer and supplication for mine own soul; and all the day long did I cry unto him; yea, and when the night came I did still raise my voice high that it reached the heavens."
Enos 1:4

Lessons I Learned from My Brother

           Since the day my brother’s spirit left this earth I have been reflecting on how much he has taught me and influenced my life. As my older brother he was there since day one for me and has been teaching me my whole life. The following are only a simple list of the things he taught me the 22 years I got to know him.

What a Good Burger Is

            Growing up in southern California going to In-N-Out was the norm to get a decent burger. It was both cheap and delicious. What more could you ask for? There isn’t anything you could compare it to and Muri always made sure to remind us of that. When my family moved to Oregon ten years ago we were heart broken because we didn’t have an In-N-Out remotely close to us. A year later Muri moved to Oregon with us and he was also devastated. We always made trips down to California to see my older sister and extended family. For the first couple times Muri would travel with us and we would always make sure to stop at the first In-N-Out in Redding, California. In recent years Muri wasn’t able to travel to California due to other commitments in his life but still dreamed of eating a double double with a side of fries and a coke. A couple days before he passed away I talked with him on the phone. Besides his excitement for me because I got my first iPhone, he told me about his trip to Reno this past summer. He went to Reno for work and he was excited because there was an In-N-Out there. He told me he walked 2 miles to the nearest In-N-Out and it was completely worth it as soon as he took a bite of that double double. He was also looking forward to the traveling down to Medford because they just opened In-N-Out there. Now when I go get In-N-Out all I would think is how proud Muri would be that I got a decent burger.

Mint n Chip Ice Cream is Life

            Every since I could remember going to Rite Aid and getting Thrifty ice cream was a thing in my family. I first asked for strawberry but then I started to get what Muri always had, mint n chip. From then on it was always mint n chip ice cream. Eventually it was the only flavor that all my siblings would get. Growing up a half gallon of mint n chip ice cream would go so fast in my house. It was literally gone the next day. Even still today it is my go to option when I get ice cream and it’s all because of Muri.

Checking Your Oil is Necessary

            I remember 3 years ago my little sister and I shared a car for a summer. Eventually that car was the one I would bring to college. Before I came to school a couple friends and I were going to attend a young single adult conference in Eugene, Oregon. I was going to drive the car all the way done there for the weekend. Before I left Muri checked everything in the car to make sure it was ready for the trip. He went to check the oil and noticed there was hardly any. He then proceeded to give my sister and I a lecture of how important it was to check the oil in a car and taught us how to put more oil when needed. It was different to hear a lecture coming from him than my parents but ever since then checking my oil has become a norm for me. Whenever I make trips on the freeway especially up to Salt Lake I always make sure to check my oil before and after. I learned over the years that some people don't even know how to check their oil. My brother taught me well. Muri was also the one who I would call whenever I had car problems. Sometimes all he could do was calm me down when I was freaking out over something simple or direct me to the right place for help. But he was always willing to help me despite the situation he was in. 

Music is Life

            My older siblings have influenced a lot of my music preferences, which is why I listen to a lot of alternative and punk from the 90’s and early 2000’s. I still remember the day when I was walking past my brother’s room and I heard the coolest song I have ever heard in my 7 years of existence. It was the first time I heard “All the Small Things” by Blink 182. It was as though the music heaven opened for me. I would ask Muri to play it over and over again. Since then you can find Linkin Park, Blink 182, Yellowcard, Sum 41 and so many others in my music library. Even up to his last day on earth he was still influencing my music choices. Over the past couple months Nirvana has been coming up on my Pandora stations. At first I skipped the songs but I started listening because I remembered it was one of Muri’s favorite bands. I have enjoyed all the other bands he listened to so why not this one? Next thing I know I’m rocking out to Nirvana at the gym.

Band is Life

            The reason I started band was because of Muri. I wanted to play the clarinet just like my older brother and when opportunity came in the 4^th grade I got a hold of his old clarinet and started band class. As the little sister I went wherever my mom went which meant I went to all my brother’s band concerts. He was really passionate for band up until high school but even then he was always playing the guitar. I would hear him playing his guitar in his room all the time. I remember the Christmas he received his red electric guitar and how excited he was for it. I started to learn the guitar because I wanted to play like him but in reality I’m terrible at it. 

For the past 13 years I have participated in various band programs wherever I have been at for school. I am in my 5^th year of marching band at BYU and it’s all because of Muri’s example of love and passion for band. I’m pretty sure if he stuck with band in high school he would have gotten to the point where I am at now. This season I will be thinking of him as I take the field each game.

Christ like Love

            I think the most important thing my brother has taught me is Christ like love. For half my life my brother wasn’t active in church but that didn’t mean he wasn’t teaching me gospel principles. In the past four years I saw it especially and it was because of his son. The sacrifice he made to provide for his wife and son made me so proud to call him my brother. He has been an amazing example of what parent should be. My parents of course are wonderful examples but it’s different to see it from your sibling. Recently it was my nephew’s 3^rd birthday and my brother wanted to get him the perfect present, a battery powered car. My sister in law and brother did not have the money for such gift so my brother sold one of his most prized possessions, his guitar. He loved that guitar and would play it every chance he got but he gave it up to provide something for his son that would bring him happiness. That to me is Christ like love. I just hope I could be a great parent as he was.

"But charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day it shall be well with him. 

Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ; that ye may become the sons of God; that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is; that we may have this hope; that we may be purified even as he is pure. Amen."

Moroni 7:47-48

I know one day I will be with Muri again as an eternal family. It has been hard these past couple of weeks and I know it will be hard for the rest of my earthly life. I am so thankful that the restored gospel is in my life because I have the knowledge and testimony of the plan of salvation. This mortal life we are living is only a snippet compared to our eternal existence. I will have so much time after this earthly life to be with my brother. He was looking forward on seeing me graduate from college in April and I know he will be there even if I can't see him physically. I'm going to make sure I make him proud as I continue to follow my dreams wherever they may lead me. I love you big brother. 

           

Being the Brown Girl Part 2

I walk around campus with my green Columbia backpack trying to dodge oncoming students who are rushing to class. I finally get to class and I take a seat in the middle far right as usual. I get out either my laptop or notebook, eager for the class to start. As students continue to enter the classroom I notice everyone is Caucasian and I'm the only Mexican American. Three years ago I would have felt inferior around my peers based on the color of my skin. Now entering my 5^th year at BYU I don’t see it as a constant struggle but a challenge that I can face everyday because I know who I am.

Two years ago when I wrote Being the Brown Girl I was in a confused state. I honestly did not want to be at BYU that fall semester. During the summer I had fought the idea of leaving BYU and Utah in general. It was a constant battle that hurt. Eventually Heavenly Father told me I needed to stay at BYU despite how I felt about the situation. Things finally turned around, my attitude toward my studies improved, I encountered a new passion and I became more involved in the organizations I associated with. Yes it was still hard being the brown girl. Assumptions were made here and there. Some of my peers still thought I was from Mexico or some other Latin American country. I still felt below compared to other students because I was first generation college student. It’s hard even today. I guess the only thing that kept me going was that I was knowing I had to be here despite what others would say. Someone told me that I shouldn’t have come to BYU but have given the opportunity to someone else who would have appreciated it. News flash, the first generation Latino/Hispanic student challenge is everywhere in this country. I would have faced similar things at any other university. I also never said I didn’t appreciate it. I’m externally thankful for all the challenges I have had to face. It has only made me a stronger person and I know it will help me as I enter the professionally world eventually.

In the past 2 years I have had many opportunities that I think I wouldn’t have had if I left when I wanted to. Who would have even believed that I would be involved in the TMA department and working on shows and not to mention interning with Studio C this past summer? Listening to the Spirit that summer night has blessed in so many ways and I have learned so much because of my decision to stay at BYU. The most important thing I have learned has been accepting myself and knowing that I have purpose. My race has played a big part of this. For a while you can say I was ashamed of my skin color or heritage. It’s hard living in a place where everyone is expected you to be the same. I feel people think being the same religion means we all have to be exactly the same. Well we don’t. We all come from different cultures and backgrounds. We are all different skin tones, have different hair colors and come in different sizes. I have really stood out here at BYU and at first I hated it and now I embrace it. 

I came across this post today on Twitter and it reminded me why I’m here. Why I struggle with being judged and being different. Each one of these posts I can relate too. Especially the following:

I’m here not just for me but also for the past generations and the future generations. That’s what has motived me the most.

I start my last year of college in a less than two weeks. I will most likely be the only brown girl in class again but this time I can take it. I have made it this far and I have not given up. It has taught me how strong I can be in various situations. I have so much to offer to this academic community and I'm not going to let my heritage, skin color, or ethnicity keep me from doing what I know I need to do. Most importantly I know it follow me as I enter the next stage of my life after I graduate (whatever that may be, still deciding). I guess being the brown girl in class has been a good thing.  

Living Up to Expectations

Recently I have been reflecting upon events in my life that has caused me to think that I am an outsider within my own community. My community within the LDS church, Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah as a state and even as an American overall. I live in a world where people have expectations of how I should act, talk, and live my life. People have assumptions of what my interests are based on the color of my skin. I am trying to act more American to please my Caucasian peers while I am trying to embrace my Mexican heritage to please my Mexican and Mexican American peers. On top of that I am giving all I have to do well in school because it’s expected by my immigrant parents. It’s a hard life. If you don’t believe me step into my shoes one day. Being the dark one, the one who doesn’t act “Mexican” enough, and the one who sounds “white” eventually gets to my head and all I do is stare at the wall and cry.

Mirco-aggression racism exists. I had not realized it until I read this article from the prospective of an Asian American. I never categorized what has happened to me over the years in Oregon and Utah as micro-aggression racism. It happens all the time and some people don’t know that they are doing it. I recently had a friend tell me that I was the “worst Hispanic ever” because I was not interested in the World Cup. I do not enjoy watching sporting events. I do watch BYU games but that’s because I am doing something I love at the same time. There is this generalization that all Hispanics love soccer. Well this Latina does not. I rather watch an orchestra concert downtown than watch a soccer game. I rather read a book about makeup techniques or of American history than watch a any type of sporting event. True story. That phrase “you’re the worst Hispanic ever” has been constantly in my head the past couple of weeks. I think that person did not know how much it would hurt me and cause me to actually question what I should enjoy doing and watching. I was basically questioning my identity. I began to think that I was doing something wrong. What he said to me was hurtful, inconsiderate and rude but I think he did not actually process what he said and thought of how his words would affect me when he said it. Once again I was the brown girl that was picked on for being different. In the end I am just Celia. The 20 year old college student who is trying to figure herself out in this messed up world. I don’t want my interests to be determined by my skin color. I have been struggling with this since my early youth. Back in Oregon through my high school years I was seen as the “coconut” because I was brown on the outside but I acted white in the inside. I never admitted it but that hurt so much. Because I didn’t fit in a certain category people around me they just made up something because I was “not like the others”. Why couldn’t I just have been seen as Celia? People questioned why I was not like the rest of the majority of my Hispanic peers: wearing hoop earrings, using a lot of hairspray and drawing on my eyebrows. What did I do that was categorized as being white? I participated in the band program, took honor and AP courses, had a high GPA and was active within the church. Does that sound so white to you? I didn’t see it as white. I saw it as me trying my hardest to be a well-rounded person. I will be honest the one place where I felt I was singled out was sadly in my church group. There was another “different” student and we both felt like we were singled out. Maybe it was easy for them to target me/us because we were all members of the church. I honestly don’t know why it happened and maybe I will never know but it happened. So please save your Hispanic/Latin assumptions to yourselves. I am living my life and doing things to better myself as a person.

“Where are your parents from?” Oh I have been asked that question so many times. I have lost track. People ask me where I am from and when I say Oregon they are somehow not satisfied with that answer and they continue to ask where my parents are from. I personally feel as though they are trying to figure out why I’m not white. Well my parents are from Mexico but that should not be used to judge me or make assumptions about me. My mom has even told me to just tell them that they are from California. Both my parents have lived in California longer than Mexico. I don’t ask my Caucasian friends where their parents are from. Actually I never ask anyone that question. It may be brought up but that’s when the other person tells me themselves not when I ask. I feel as though I’m singled out due to the color of my skin. “Oh her parents must be from somewhere out of the country because she has dark skin.”  True story. I have actually experienced this more in Utah that anywhere else. My cousin warned me about returned missionaries and their “questions”. I didn’t believe her at first but then I experienced it for myself. I’m sorry to all the RM’s who served in Latin America but I have never lived in or been to Mexico, I rather talk to you in English, I don’t know anything about Mexico’s geography and I am not similar to a girl from Mexico because I was born and raised in the United States. I have also had people start conversations with me in Spanish. Do I look like I don’t speak English? I may have dark skin but that does not mean that I cannot speak English. There are Hispanics in this country who can’t speak English but that does not mean that every dark person speaks Spanish. Get it straight. 

I understand that some people may just be asking what my ethnicity is but they do not know how to ask without being rude. Rather than asking where my parents are from just ask me what my ethnicity is. I will then say Mexican American and I am more willing to talk about how my parents immigrated to this country.

“You get money because you’re brown.” This is probably the most hurtful of all. At BYU I am seen as a multicultural student. I have an advisor within the multicultural student services (MSS) office who I report to on a semester basis. Within the office they are concerned about my academic progress but as well as my emotional progress as a multicultural student. Yes the office assists me in my schooling but it’s not all about money. When I first came to BYU I was a naïve 18 year old freshman who found it hard to believe I could feel different within an LDS community. Eventually I realized all the micro aggression racism that occurred within the BYU community. Going to the multicultural office actually helped me realize I had a place within the BYU community as a multicultural student. To be honest I actually enjoyed those cheesy freshman MSS meetings because I was surrounded by multicultural students who were struggling like me. I didn’t realized what it meant to be a multicultural student until recently. I was asked to volunteer for the MSS office at New Student Orientation (NSO) this past June. As a freshman I never attended the MSS NSO because I was attending band camp. I certainly learned a lot during those 20 minutes that were meant for the new freshman. I realized multicultural meant trying to live within various cultures (insert face palm here). I am trying to live within a Mexican culture that I have inherited from my parents and I am trying to live within an American culture at the same time. A couple of years ago my mother told me when her and her siblings arrived in the United States my grandfather told them they had to start to do American things to fit in within the culture. For example, they started to celebrate Thanksgiving and from what my mom told me that first year was quite the adventure with an unthawed turkey. Over the years though Thanksgiving has been a tradition in my family. I have never questioned why we celebrated it because we lived in the United States and it was a time when we reflected what we were grateful for similar to the pilgrims (although we have all been fooled by the Thanksgiving story, ignore that for now).  On another note I just do not receive financial help for my education because I am an ethnic student. In reality my parents cannot support me financially at all  Even the BYU tuition price is out of their reach. Emotionally and spiritually they have helped me so much but when it comes to money I am thankful for federal aid such as the Pell Grant for students who cannot be supported financially by their parents. I know many Caucasian students who benefit from this grant and even in full and it’s not because of the color of their skin but rather their financially status. This brings me to another struggle that I think not many of you understand. I am the child of immigrant parents. Both my parents came to the United States from another country, another culture and another world. My grandfather brought my mother and her siblings to this country in hopes of a better future for the generations to come. He wanted his family to have opportunities of education. I had the opportunity to interview my grandfather two years ago for a paper where I explored the American Dream. I wrote my paper from the perspective of immigrants and the children of immigrants. One thing I learned from him was that I was fulfilling his dream which was for us to gain an education and better ourselves. My mother was not able to go to college. She was busy trying to build a new life in a new country with my father and then raising a family. I praise her for her effort which has given me strength over the years. I am the product of my parents’ endurance in overcoming challenges in a new country. There are expectations that I have to fulfill. The expectation of finishing college and earning a degree is very overwhelming. I was recently talking with a friend who also has immigrant parents and is among the first generation to gain a college education. We both feel the pressure of how my we need to gain a degree because that was one of the reasons why our parents came to this new country. Just think about it. Our parents left the only world they knew in the hopes of finding a better life a different country with the idea of their children being education. That’s a lot of pressure. I feel like I need to be perfect and I know that is not true. I know my parents will rejoice on my graduation day despite my GPA as long as I don’t give up and push until the end. So yes I do receive money from a department that specializes in helping ethnic diverse students but there is more to it than the color of my skin. So please next time you are about to say that I get money because I’m brown, ask yourself “what does she have to go through because she’s ‘different’?” That also goes for all students despite race, color and ethnicity. In reality we all come from different backgrounds.

I know I should not make decisions and live my life to please anyone. If there is anyone who I am trying to please in my actions it’s my Savior Jesus Christ and you know what I don’t think He cares about the color of skin but rather my heart and my intentions. The way I live my life is shaped by my parents’ actions as they have raised me, the activities I participate it and the passions I have. I may not be your average Mexican American but I am who I want to be. Not many people may fully understand the struggles I may have to endure but I hope that we can all be considerate of our fellow men. Let’s not all make assumptions of someone based on the color of their skin. Let’s not assume someone’s financial status based on their ethnic background. May we all come together and try to understand where we come from. We all have story to tell. Let us listen and hear everyone out before we begin to make assumptions.  

Mexican American, Mormon, Democrat and a Feminist

Growing up in a Mexican American and Latter Day Saint house has made me into the person I am today. I am not your average Latter Day Saint female. Yes I attend BYU but I didn’t come to this university to find a husband or earn a degree that will “make me a good mother”. The main reason I came to this university and college in general was due to my heritage and the desires of my grandfather when he brought his family to this new country. And these are my experiences as I have struggled to find my identity, understand my beliefs and discovering how I am different than my peers.

Mexican American: The Discovery of my Identity

I lived most of my life in two states before moving to Utah, Oregon and California. I lived in southern California until I was 12 years old. Growing up in a very Hispanic populated area, I grew accustomed to being around people with similar heritages as me. We shared similar traditions and many of our parents were immigrants. More recent than others. Race and ethnicity was never a problem. When my family moved to Oregon I did not feel any different about my identity. I associated myself as Mexican and considered myself as Hispanic. No question there. But it was not until I arrived in the fall of 2011 to Brigham Young University where I began to question who I was. 

During the first couple weeks of being at BYU, I learned that people made assumptions based on the color of my skin. That first semester was very interesting. I got asked the same question quite often: why don’t you speak Spanish and where are your parents from?

Before school started I had band camp. Within the first day I got the feeling that I was very different. As I sat with the other marching band members in the band hall I noticed that everyone was white. There were a couple people who weren't Caucasian. For once in my life I was among the minority. Growing up I attended schools where the Hispanics were the majority. I never comprehended that until I arrived at BYU. As school started I noticed more and more that I was sometimes the only “brown” one in class.

When I met people for the first time the usual questions took place: what’s your name, what are you studying and where are you from. When I responded with Oregon I always got a weird look from who I was talking too. They would then proceed with the question, “Where are your parents from?” Seriously. I would then say Mexico and sometimes I would get the following responses: "I served my mission there", "that explains the way you look", and "I was right." You can say I left either furious or frustrated.

I have had people tell me I am white. I would ask, “How can you say that I am white when I have such a dark complexion?” Well their definition of white was being born in the United States. Yes, I was born in the United States but I don’t consider myself white. I never have and never will. They said I was not Mexican. So I would always say okay then I’m Mexican American. Apparently that was not “correct” either. I was white to them.

Whenever I filled out a questionnaire I always left with confusion. There are two boxes to fill out when it comes out to race and ethnicity the first box asks if I consider myself either Hispanic or Latino. I answer yes because I do. The next box then asks about my race. There is no spot for Mexican American. I had to put down white. About a month ago I went online to my personal information that BYU has in their records. I looked under race and ethnicity. I had to mark if I considered myself Hispanic or Latino and then I had to choose in “addition” one or more racial categories. At the time I applied to BYU I put down white because I thought I had too. As I looked at it now I unchecked white and saved the changes without an “additional” race. I’m sorry BYU but I don’t consider myself anything more than Hispanic or Latino. If you had a Mexican American I would have chosen that. Now the ethnicity box in my personal information looks like this….

Take that BYU.

Looking back my freshman year was probably my toughest year in regards with accepting myself for being different. One February day I sat in the library trying to study but I could not. I had so many emotions that did not let me think straight. I wrote the following in my journal… “I feel so alone right now. I really just want to quit school and do nothing. I feel so empty inside. I have never felt like this before. I want to just runaway and never come back. I hate feeling like this though. I just want to cry never stop. I don’t know why I feel like this, I just do. I wish there was someone I could talk to who didn't judge me. I feel like everyone around me is judging me all the time… At this point I don’t know what to do. Life is just so hard and I just want to give up. But I don’t want to feel like this. I just want to be somewhere where I feel like I belong. Here at BYU I don’t feel like I belong. Everyone is so different and I just seem like I don’t fit in. I don’t [know] if it’s because I’m Mexican…It’s so hard going to BYU and not the academics but being so different than everyone else. At McKay I was among the majority and although I didn’t hang out with them I still felt like I belonged there…Here in Utah I feel like an outsider trying to fit in. I’m like a square trying to fit into a circle, I just don’t belong here. So why am I even here? Maybe coming to BYU was a mistake. I thought I have been feeling like this because of all the stress from school but I think I’m wrong. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Being at BYU for a semester and a half made me feel like an outsider and I felt like could not proceed studying at a university where I was so different. I eventually sucked it up and finished the semester and went home for the summer. The following year I pushed my ethnicity and race identity struggles to the side. 

My sophomore year I dealt with my political standing more (next section). Then my junior year I had about enough. It was the first day of class of a new semester. I was mentally and physically exhausted from band camp the previous week. I was about 3 shades darker than usual as well. I sat in my American humanities class eager to learn what would be in store the coming semester as I saw all the students walk in, one by one they were all white. I sat in the corner thinking “I’m so different”. For the rest of the week I went to class and noticed the same thing. I’m the only dark one. Everyone else was white, blonde and blue eyed. I felt many of peers kept staring at me. At the end of that first week I had enough of it. I just needed to let the whole world know what was going on inside of me. I had been struggling with my own identity among my peers. BYU is an enclosed environment that is not exposed too much diversity despite what many students believe. I then wrote a blog post which you can find here.

I may not be your stereotypical Mexican or Mexican American. I am struggling to keep my family's culture alive. I am struggling to fit my opinions within American culture and Mexican American culture. I am trying to be accepted by both "white" Americans and "real" Hispanics I encounter at BYU. Within my culture I am even a minority. Within BYU I am a minority. But no matter what I am a Mexican American After a long battle of discovering myself I came to the conclusions that I was not going to let my peers dictate my identity. It’s my own identity. It’s who am I. And I know I’m a Mexican American.

Latter Day Saint: I’m not like the others

Both my parents have been members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints for the majority of their lives. I grew up in a household where we attended church every Sunday, went to various youth activities, where it was expected to attend seminary and where the gospel was the focus in how things were done. I remember as I child attending primary and participating the primary program each year. I get constant flash backs of young women’s classes and activities. Girls’ camp was always a week I looked forward to as a youth. Stake dances were brutal. I will be honest. They were awkward and I’m glad those days are over. I was your average Latter Day Saint girl. I played piano, I graduated from seminary, I received my Young Women’s Recognition, and I was accepted to BYU. I did not see a difference from myself until I arrived at BYU. I went from being a high school where there were less than 20 Mormon kids to a University where 97% of the student population was Mormon. You can say I had a culture shock.

It was the fall of 2012 where I noticed I was not like my fellow classmates. It was the presidential election between Barack Obama and Mitt Romney. At the beginning of the year I began to question my political standing. I had unique views on immigration compared to my classmates. My family’s history really shaped my political views. The question was, Obama (those who go to hell they say) or Romney (the righteous choice).

Throughout high school I did not look into political issues or took part in debates. Although when I got to BYU things changed. I started to be concern of social issues especially the immigration system. I began to see where my family landed on the economically spectrum. Before I graduated high school I got my driver’s license. Because I was 17 years old at the time I was able to register to vote. I was excited because that it was something I could do as soon as I turned 18, vote. When it came to the question of what political party I associated myself with I didn't know what to put down. I was a 17 year old girl who just wanted to have a piece of identification in my wallet that would allow me to drive. I remember being confused and I marked Republican because that was what Mormons were. I thought I had to be republican because of my religion. I didn’t give much thought to it and went my way with my new driver’s license. 

The next year was my freshman year at BYU. Fall semester I was too concerned about starting college that I gave no thought about politics. Then during winter semester I took two classes that would would impact my life greatly. Sociology 113 was a general education requirement and it looked interesting so I decided to take it. In the class we discussed social issues concerning class, race and ethnicity. Many controversial topics were discussed including immigration, affirmative action, homosexuality and racism. That’s where I learned how much BYU was on the conservative side. I was fortunate to have a liberal professor who included both a conservative and liberal view in our readings and discussions. I heard people’s opinions on illegal immigration and how they felt undocumented people were stealing from them. Throughout the course I found myself siding with many of the liberal readings. Yes, my family background and how I grew up contributed to the opinions I developed. For my political science class we had to write papers about political parties and recent reforms. I began to do much research on the Democratic Party and liberal issues. I found myself agreeing with a lot of what I read and my papers could show where I landed on the political spectrum. It was probably that March that I logged on to the Oregon voter website and formally changed my political party to Democrat. You can say I had a moment where I felt like I finally made a decision on my own.

The following semester the presidential election occurred. Leading up to the election in November there was much talk on campus, in classrooms and in organizations I participated in. At first I did not state my opinion or tell anyone who I supported or vote for. My family and close friends knew and if they disagreed, they did not argue or debate but we mutually respected our opinions.

Around October I wanted to show my political support to the democratic candidate so I purchased a campaign button and wore it on my backpack. I as well had a Women for Obama sticker on my laptop which I took out a lot when I studied on campus. People began to stare at me in the library while others pointed out my backpack to their friends. I was the brown girl with the Obama 2012 button. Despite how others felt about the democratic candidate my opinions never changed. I had many people ask me why I was not supporting Mitt Romney because he was Mormon. I always responded with, “Just because he’s Mormon does not mean I have to vote for him.” You can say I was looked down upon and some people thought I was going to hell. Church leaders have never said that as a church we should support a specific party but that we should participate in voting. So it wasn’t like I was committing a sin. Although some people may have disagreed. In a previous post I commented how we should all respect each other despite our political party affiliation and I still strongly believe that.

As time has moved on I still support the liberal side on many issues. Recently gay marriage and gay rights has been much debate especially in Utah. So what does this Mexican American democrat Mormon think? I support that everyone deserves the same opportunities and protections despite race, color, gender and sexual orientation. Once again I have already stated my opinion and it has not changed. I believe there two types of marriages: civil and celestial. Civil marriage is according to the law of land and celestial marriage is through the priesthood power. People are asking for a change in marriage in the land not with God. I just want to say that these are my opinions and this is how I view things. You can say I’m not afraid to speak my mind. I expressed more about opinions in a previous post here. 

Feminism: Something New and Old

With discovering who I am and seeing where I stand on the political spectrum I have developed a realization that I agree with many feminism ideas. Being different already in regards with race has helped me develop an opinion that everyone should be treated equally regardless how they look which also means gender. I personally feel that women are not being treated equal when it comes to education, employment, and with respect in general.

The #YesAllWomen  hashtag on Twitter made me realize that there was a place for my opinions, feminism. I believe that women should not be seen as sexual objects. They are people too, just like men. Women should not be afraid to be judged based on their clothing. Women who wear short dresses or skirts should not be seen as “asking for it.” Men and boys should learn to control their thoughts while women should not be told to change their clothing to “help” the male gender. When a woman tells a man she is not interested it should be the end of it. Although sometimes they have to say they are seeing someone else because it seems men respect men rather than men respecting women. A women can have a career if she so desires and not be expected to be "in the kitchen". 

A couple of months ago a guy really wanted to hang out with me. I was not interested at all. In the past we did hang out but I did not want to put myself in those situations again. He kept insisting on seeing me. At the same time I was very interested in another guy who showed me a lot of respect. We never officially dated but were close friends. The other guy would not stop bugging me so I said I was seeing someone, the nice guy, although I wasn't. I do not understand why it took “another man” to get one off my back. He should have respected my decision but rather he respected another guy.

I recently I had another incident where I felt I was judged based on what I wore. It was a hot day so I wore shorts that went mid-thigh. They were not that short but they were comfortable especially on a hot day. That same day I went out with a guy. He then made a comment which made me angry and at the same time guilty. He said, “You wore those shorts for me didn’t you?” I was furious. No I did not wear those shorts for him. I wore those shorts for me. I never wear clothing to “get attention” or for men. I wear the types of clothes I do because they make me feel confident about myself. Simple as that. So please never tell me I wear shorts, tank tops, dresses or skirts to get your attention. I’m not. Trust me.

Here in Utah I feel like a lot of women are looked down upon their clothing choices. There is a very big Mormon culture influence which is very different from what I grew up. I feel clothing is an accessory that helps express an individual. How can you look down upon someone who is trying to be themselves? Women are commonly in this category of being targeted for what they wear. Just because she wears shorts or a tank top does not mean she’s a slut or asking for it. Let her be.

In other aspects I believe a women should have complete agency in regards of their body. You know where this going, abortion. I personally would never put myself in that situation because of my religious opinions but I believe all women should have a choice. Also women who choose abortion should not be looked down upon as a murderer or a sinner. What do you think she is going through? Embrace her.

As well women should not be looked as just baby makers and being at home. They are people too!!! Being at BYU I have met many guys who think a woman should just be at home because that’s where she belongs. Those are the guys I try to stay away from. Don’t get me wrong I was raised by a stay at home mom and I praise women who give their life to take care of children. But women should we be seen as people who can accomplish so much. A woman does not only have to be a mother. She can be a teacher, doctor, engineer, scientist, writer and so much more. Women should be supported in any field they decide to go into. And those women who stay at home with their children should also be recognized as hard working women just like those in the workforce. 

So in the end I just want everyone to treat each other as equals regardless of race, ethnicity, skin color, gender and sexual orientation. 

Being Different: A long time coming

I was talking with a friend recently regarding dating here at BYU. I personally feel that I am not the “ideal” girl to date. I will be honest I feel that my skin tone has something to do with it. Either they expect me to be completely “white” or be this exotic girl from Mexico. I am neither. My friend made the comment to me of how many guys here want the “BYU girl cut out cookie type" and how those guys are the “BYU boy cut out cookie type." I then made the comment of how I felt I’m the cookie dough that doesn't fit into the cookie cutter and is just thrown to the side. I am different then all the other girls at BYU and I am trying to accept that everyday.

  

After being at BYU for 3 years I have learned many things about myself and how different I am. I have already mentioned that I really didn’t know I was different until I came to a mainly populated Caucasian university. I am not like my peers. I don’t have the same background; both personal and family background. My parents are immigrants to this country. I am a first generation college student who still trying to figure out this whole college thing. I don’t even look like my peers. I don’t have blonde hair or a tall slender body. I have thick brown hair, I have curves, and I am barely 5’2”.

I am trying every day to stand proud of being different but there are days when I just want to leave BYU and never come back. Although sometimes I want to leave, at the same time I’m happy that I am here to learn so much about myself. I think if I stayed in Oregon which I originally intended too, it may have taken longer to figure myself out. Isn’t that what college is all about? A time to discover who you are?

You may now think differently of me but you know what, that’s okay. I am different than everyone else. I have different views. I look different. I act different. And I accept that. I’m a Mexican American, Mormon, democrat, liberal, and feminist. So deal with it.