How did culture fit into my life… It’s a bit of a fragmented tale to tell. It’s a constant in my life – like white noise – to look like I do in a world that well, doesn’t. I was a first-generation Mexican kid in a sea of white kids in a culture I barely understood because my home culture was so different. On top of that, I was raised to be hyper aware of my parents boundaries less I get hurt… just like they were raised. I got praised for being so polite and well-behaved as a kid when I went to other people’s houses. I never caused trouble (this is also part of migrant culture – “don’t rock the boat”). I always followed the rules because I was extremely aware of my friend’s parents and their emotional state and knew all they wanted was some peace and quiet. They just wanted for me to keep their kids occupied…quietly. No surprises for me, if I didn’t act that way at home, I would have gotten the shit beaten outta me… but sure.. praise me for being such a “good kid”.
My parents chose not to speak much Spanish directly to me as a child. They were learning English on their own so practiced as much as possible and thought if they raised me English-speaking I would have an easier time in school. When my mom went to enroll me in Kindergarten they asked if I needed to be in ESL classes and my mom proudly responded “No”. She tells it this way, obviously as a kid, I didn’t give a fuck. In fact, I struggled to know why the hell I was in class/school in the first place. I was a very average student in elementary school because it was all really weird to me…like I didn’t understand why I was there…what the the purpose of it was.. got lots of C’s lol. But I loved to read. I read a lot of what was available to me… a lot of European classics. I occasionally got made fun of as a kid because I picked up a lot of vocabulary from these older books as it helped fill in language gaps due to being taught by parents with broken English. “You talk funny” kids would tell me. lol
But that simple fact, that I was English speaking first, alienated me from the rest of my extended family and other hispanics with a similar background. My cousins were all raised bilingual and steeped in Mexican culture. They all have slight accents, I do not. That’s something usually reserved for 2nd or 3rd generation hispanics in the US. I have maybe 10-15 cousins I know of here (probably more in MX) and of them 1 other is college educated (actually, its my cousin who did weird shit to me a kid). I’m the only one that has an advanced degree. I barely talk to the rest of my family on either side, and they barely talk to me, for multiple reasons (not because I don’t care…I just never belonged). It’s just another reason I don’t have much connection to family, I have a huge family, but I always felt alone.
Still, I was deeply patriotic as a kiddo. My parents drilled into us how grateful I should be to live in the United States. And when I was a bit older I saw their home towns. It sticks with me to this day, my dad’s home town, it was nothing, there was nothing. So yeah, I would tear up when I heard the national anthem because I knew what the alternative was. I was super embarrassed by this, but I was a sensitive kid. haha
In 5th grade, I remember we went to one of my brother’s games. I was sitting on the bleachers w/ my mom and one of the other mom’s from the team. She looked at some of cheerleaders on the side line and then looked at me and asked me if I wanted to do cheer when I was older. I told her point blank, “No, I’m not pretty enough.” Her and my mom were shocked and I was confused lol. Because you know what I meant? I wasn’t tall, white, or blonde. Those traits aren’t changeable. That’s what growing up in America taught me. The ideal woman looks like that… and you can never be that, so don’t even bother – know your place. I felt that lesson for many many years. In a way, it was a blessing… I never gave a fuck about being pretty or fitting into a mold I was never going to be the right shape for, so I poured my energy elsewhere. Don’t worry, I got plenty of validation I was *pretty enough* in college, am I right? lol
I remember, when we moved out to Shawnee the new high school wasn’t built yet. Parents didn’t realize this until after they moved, so I ended up having to go to DeSoto HS (horrible 45 min bus ride at 6am.. thanks mom and dad). As a new kid, I remember looking at the tables at lunch. There was a group of hispanic girls all sitting together at one table laughing and talking. I felt a pang of enviousness. They looked like me, but I would never fit in. They were all speaking Spanish fluently, they all dressed similarly, did their makeup the same. I was so far from that picture, it hurt. I knew I would never fit in with that group, so I never tried.
Later, I switched to the new HS in Shawnee. My parents were unusual in that they were doing well financially, so we ended up living in an upper-middle class area (not a lot of Mexicans in our neighborhood I can tell you that haha). But, I made friends with a group of misfit academically gifted ladies. Two of them would casually tell me about how their highly-educated parents would help them w/ advanced math equations so they could do better on the SATs or how one had been setup to graduate w/ her associates degree at the same time she graduated high school.
I remember thinking, umm…my dad got through the 3rd grade… lol. I made a comment about how lucky they were to have parents like that, and that I wished I had parents that could help me with that kinda stuff. They both got super defensive, “Well, it’s not like we’re not putting the work in, you could do the same!” Sure… I wouldn’t even know where to start (and the internet wasn’t the beacon of learning it is now lol).
Literally, I didn’t even know what I was supposed to do to prepare for college. My parents asked me what the process was.. haha. They were also weirdly averse to help from anyone (lot of “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” rhetoric). But, when I got a partial scholarship to KU my dad cried. lol Pretty funny how I then failed out due to mental health issues a couple years later, huh? lol
My dad once told me “You’re not even really Mexican, you’re basically a white kid.” He wasn’t upset about it per se, but he was sort of calling me out… like I rejected his culture (yeah.. okay, whose fault is that?). Weirdly, it actually bothered me. I thought I was kind of over the fact that I didn’t really fit the mold of either American or Mexican culture, but it still hurt to hear him say it.. like I was being disowned in a way.. like he was low key ashamed of that fact. And what could I do? Whatever, just throw it on the pile of all the other hurt.
Anyway, as many micro-agressions as I suffered growing up; I shrugged most of them off. Because it remains today, that in a group of individuals, I’m typically the only one of my kind. At work, I’m often the only hispanic (also queer, though I never flaunt that around) in a room full of white people. When I was a manager at my old job, I remember attending this big meeting of 30+ managers, VP’s, directors, c-suites and of them I was the only minority female (and only 1 other minority). Which is sad because that’s most of Ed-Tech. My argument? How are we supposed to build products for our diverse student base when we don’t even reflect that diversity? Everything is taught and designed for a particular lens… and I can tell you it certainly wasn’t one built for a kid like me. I do my best to change this, but I’m only one person and even I have skewed perspectives because I grew up thinking I was less-than in a white world “know your place, assimilate, don’t rock the boat, work hard”.
Anyway, that’s been the case my entire life.. whether its because of me being a minority or whether it’s because I’m the only woman in a group of men. Literally I went to a group weight lifting class on Tuesday and it was me and 6 white dudes. lol All the game tournaments I went to in college? Me and a bunch of dudes. It happens so much, I just don’t care anymore. But, as a kid. It fucking hurt to feel that weird disconnect from how I look on the outside, to how I am on the inside, what my preferences and personality is like is so far removed from most of those around me – I always thought it was the reason I adopted a kind of chameleon personality. So that I could make my way through a world I would never fit into. And I know people make assumptions about who I am based on how I look (“Does she even speak English?” – Yeah, I’ve heard that one); I just don’t have time to worry about it anymore. Actually, my dad taught me that. Don’t worry about them or their opinions, don’t argue, just show them what you can do, just keep working hard.
I remember one of the first times I visited Mexico as a teen. I was walking on the streets of Monterrey (a fairly large city) and the street was full of people walking around me on the sidewalk. I remember looking around and realizing everyone looked like me. It struck me just how alienated I felt all the time in my home country, the US. Never in my life had I experienced this feeling of my body just belonging. No one stared at me, not even little kids (which sometimes happens here with kids who have no exposure to diversity, like I’m a zoo animal lol). And here I was, there was a whole country of people that looked like me and I just blended right in. my Spanish sucked, but so long as I didn’t talk, for the first time, I felt like I belonged somewhere.
It was a short lived feeling, a fantasy. But it was a kind of profound experience for me. I started to realize it didn’t really matter what I looked like. I started to accept that I am and just always would be different, and that it could be a source of strength to be unique. I don’t always feel that way, some of the old insecurities still creep back in. Receiving an education has been the biggest catalyst for growth and change and acceptance for me. It leveled the playing field and that’s why it’s so very important to me. One day I’d like to pay that forward, in a way I already am. Until then, I’m just content to be a creative, passionate, warm-hearted human named Jesi.
