Sorry

¨I’m not mexican¨ I once said.  Looking back at the time I rejected my culture and my skin color is disappointing.  However, I value the fact that I grew as a person, loves her culture and defends the rights for her people when people with higher power try to take it away.  At a early age, I had a hard time accepting that I´m latina. Seeing latina/os being portrayed as criminals, drug dealers, and uncivilized at a daily basis on the news became a trigger for me because the people that I knew did not have that sort of image, it became hard knowing that in others people’s eyes I was seen like this. Being oppressed at home, school, and just in general became too much for me that I just broke and had this battle to self to self.  My mother and father saw the battle each day that I would come back to from school, at family dinners, and special events. My parents became worried of how I was developing this hate towards my culture. There was a point where my dad lost hope that I will return back to the person I was when, I loved my culture. I neglected my friends who were brown and latina. Soon I became the person who outcasted herself from everyone, her people, and her own self. A period of life I had this mentality where latinos/as were criminals and a disgrace to humanity.   My community viewed me differently, I´d get nasty looks from those who I were surrounded with. Slowly, a teacher that I had taught me since I was in the first grade had one on one talks about my culture. Showed me the most beautiful aspects of my culture, the happiness it brings to other people, and it´s history.