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.  

The Dream of a Daughter of Immigrants

My last post was about being different and yes sometimes it can be hard but there are sometimes being different can be a good thing. I different views, experiences and aspirations but that what makes us different and unique. I am happy that I am a Mexican American, first generation college student, and on the path to discovering myself. My family's background has helped me grow to the person I am today and I know will help me for the rest of my life. I guess I didn't realize how much of an influence my heritage had on me until I got to college. My parents came did not just come to this country as immigrants but as dreamers.     

I have probably one the most interesting majors anyone can study, American Studies. I basically study the American experience through history, sociology, English, political science, economics, religion and even music. Last fall I took the American Studies class every American Studies student has to take. There was a lot of reading and some days I had to force myself to say awake. Despite my anger toward it at times I have to say that class was an eye opener for me. Our major paper (half our grade or so) was about the American Dream. We can discuss the American Dream from any angle and we had to interview people as part of our paper. I was struggling to find a subtopic for my paper. Then I thought about it! How about write my paper from people who came to this country to achieve the American Dream recently, then the next generation and the next generation. Many stories we read about the American Dream are from those from early America. I have learned that the American Dream lives in everyone, everyone in this country and in each generation. 

After writing my paper I learned more about myself and the reason I was here at BYU. I am living the American Dream my grandfather envisioned over 30 years ago. He wanted his children to be educated and if they couldn't at the time then their children. There were more opportunities in this country and my grandfather wanted a better life for his family. My mother and father were not able to attend college but that didn't stop them from raising a family that focused a lot on education. They wanted their children to attend college and have a better life than they did. My parents have worked so hard for my siblings and I to have a comfortable living environment growing up while we prepared ourselves to go out in the world and prepare for our professional lives. I remember growing up my mother always took us to the library.I guess you can say my love of books is because my mother always emphasized reading whether she read to us or we read to her. Besides our academic goals my parents wanted us to be nourished in some other form, music. I was 6 years old when I started piano lessons. I loved it. In 4th grade I started band playing clarinet. In 8th grade I picked up the alto and tenor saxophone in jazz band. In high school I did marching band, wind ensemble, jazz band, pep band and the pit band for the musicals. And you know what my mother went to every singe one of my concerts. I think she was late to one of my concerts in high school. Throughout high school they pushed me to do my best academically and supported in my other extracurriculars.  When I said I wanted to go to Oregon State and I was interviewed for a scholarship they took me to OSU even though they wanted me to go to BYU. I ended up at BYU anyways. Although they can't fully financial support me through college they support me in other aspects. They push me to accomplish things and make sure that I have all the support I need. Sometimes when things get tough I have to think of why I'm here at school. Why I'm putting myself through stressful school work, at times loneliness and even lack of sleep. I want to live the dream. My dream. My parents' dream. My grandfather's dream.

I am living the 21st century American Dream. I come from low income family, immigrant parents, and I'm a first generation college student. I'm striving everyday to reach that dream. I want to finish college, start a career and contribute to society. It may change slightly over the years but all I know is that I want to achieve great things. My American Dream may be slightly different than my grandfather's or my parents' but I know that I am on the path to achieve great things. I am so thankful my grandfather brought his family to this country because if he didn't I wouldn't be where I am now. Right now there is so much debate over immigration and undocumented young adults who can't work but have the education to do so. They just want to live the American Dream too. I wish some people would take a step back and look through the eyes of an immigrant, of their children and their families to see what they truly desire. They won't see crime, drugs or failure. They would see ambition, courage, strength and sacrifice.  Yes some people come to this country for other reasons. But those who really do seek the American Dream come here with a true purpose. A purpose to not just change their life but their posterity's life. 

My grandfather came to this country when things got tough in Mexico and when the spirit prompted him that it was finally time to bring his family to the United States. I interviewed my grandfather last here and he had this to say about the American Dream, "The reason why I came to the United States was because it is much easier (here) to get an education from a university or school for the whole world. That’s the main reason that we came here, not for me but for your mom, her brothers, and everyone. That’s the reason we came to the United States." I am trying everyday to fulfill not just my American Dream but my grandfather's American Dream. I'm in college. I'm trying hard everyday to accomplish my dream along with his. I just hope that he could be at my college graduation one day and see the fruits of his labor. 

Despite of a different era the American Dream is alive in Americans today. It does not have to be 1800s at Ellis Island for the American Dream to enter our country. The dream is here. We all have a dream withing us. My dream and it's purpose may be different than yours but we each have a story. Let me ask you, what is your dream? Are you living your dream? If not when are you going too?