BEING LATINA

What can I say I'm Latina! Proud of it and wouldn't change it for the world. I don't think people can really understand how it is to be raised as a Latina. We all don't sound like Rose Perez and wear red lipstick and big hoop earrings in our ears. Growing up Spanish was and still is not easy.

I could never really fit in with any type of group. If I hung out with white children, they thought I was Indian or Black because I was not as fair skinned as them. If I hung out with Black children then I was white because I was lighter than them. What group was I supposed to be put in? I was the middle group. Having ancestors who where African American and with ancestors who had the color of beach sand. Things didn't get any better as I moved up in grades.

My long black curly hair was a big curiosity towards my fellow peers. My hair was not straight nor as people would say "kinky". Making it intriguing to through spit balls in my hair to see if my curls would catch them.

My black baby hairs on my arms, back and along the side of my face were easy targets to tease about.

"Look at Vanessa. Doesn't she look like a monkey."

"Why don't you shave if off,Vanesa? It looks really bad."

"Don't tell Vanessa but she looks like a wolf."

How could I forget my unibrow.

"When are your parents going to let you pluck your eyebrows?"

"When I am 16."

"Man, I feel bad for you."

I soon found a way to hid my unibrow when I was told I needed glasses in the seventh grade. My brown plastic circled frames fit my face perfectly. This was my shelled that would deflect all the teasing. But it soon gave them something new to talk about. The name calling during class and recess were soon embedded in my heart and mind for years to come.

Time started to tick by and my name lost in time. I then was considered the spanish girl. Not my name but my race. I was used to translate spanish homework and become a human spanish Webster Dictionary. I then got so tired of the questions I began to lie and would say how I didn't know what it ment. I would then get a response of how I was spanish and I should know.

I was then finally looked at as a person and not just as a spanish girl. I soon got invited to events after school. Which made me feel like I was finally excepted. But the problems came from my spanish traditions. I was and still have to take care of my father and the home. Meaning that I would have to come home and cook for my father and keep the house neat.

"Where is your mother?"

No one could understand that and I was soon placed outside the door of exceptence.

I then moved to native Latina's who I thought would embrace me with open arms. I was sadly mistaken. Because I was born in the U.S my spanish was not up to par in their eyes.

"No Vanessa, roll your R's as rrrrrrr not Heeeee".

Now I was being teased by my own kind. I came to terms with the fact I was who I was and that was fine.

You would think that going through all that would make you not even want you to mention being Latina but that's who I am. And in everything, there is a blessing in being Latina. There is passion, drive and perseverance in being Latina.