Since it’s Hispanic Heritage Month, I was inspired to write something relating to my heritage and culture: A more personal viewpoint on the struggle of finding yourself when you’re biracial or multiracial. Just by looking at my name, you probably have an idea of my racial background. You also might have the common curiosity to ask things about it. My typical reply would be: “Well, my mother is White and Asian while my father is Puerto Rican,” other times I just say White, Asian, and Latina to bare myself from telling a mini biography of my life.
Growing up multiracial in America though made me felt like I didn’t belong in my elementary school, or anywhere for that matter.
I hated when my teachers called out my name, wishing it wasn’t a name so Spanish.
I hated when people comment on the way my eyes are shaped; looks too Asian.
When kids asked me what am I made of, I had a hard time figuring out myself because I thought I was like the other kids. I remember feeling lost and alone because the kids in my class would always compare me to people who were unlike me. In fact, it made me insecure about myself; blaming my parents for the reason why kids were making fun of me. It took me until high school to finally accept the way I am, but there are still times when I feel I don’t belong in my school. Although I live in a country that is described as a “salad bowl”, there is a lack of diversity in certain aspects. But, what people fail to understand is kids like me, are often rejected in a society that prefers normal over different. Throughout middle school, I was still asked the same question I was asked in elementary school: “What are you?” At the time, I said Asian to avoid the inevitable questions when I answered Latina. In truth, I didn’t want to admit that I was just partly Asian, partly Latina, and partly white.
In spite of looking different in high school, many just assume I’m white from seeing my skin color. Yet, when they see my name; questions begin piling up one by one about my race. Whenever I say Latina, they would ask the question I dreaded so much: “So, do you speak Spanish?” Now that I have taken Spanish classes I say, “a little.” But when I was younger, I hardly knew any Spanish because my father was simply busy with work and couldn’t teach me. To this day, I still feel ashamed for not being able to speak the language like the “real” Latinxs, whom were taught at an earlier age from their parents. Even when I visit my father in Puerto Rico, I am laughed at for my distinct American accent when speaking the language.
On the other hand, being part Asian is quite the opposite since I was never really exposed to the culture. What now? If I don’t fit in anywhere, then how would I define myself? As I got older, I figured out that you don’t have to fit in every culture or learn the language; instead, appreciate your heritage and spread knowledge.
To the people who are either biracial or multiracial: you do belong, just because you’re half does not mean you can’t appreciate your heritage.
Embrace it.
