Standardized tests. Yes, I'm that kid who's obnoxiously decent at them, but there was always a hiccup. Not during the test necessarily, but right before I took it. The group of test takers would all gather, and as an adult lectured on about how to fill out the little bubbles or something stupid, I would work ahead and begin to fill out the informational part. Name, check; address, check; date, check. Then, I would stop. I would look at the one section, the part where this black and white piece of paper asked me to identify my race, my heritage, who I am.
Growing up in a mixed race family, I've always felt in between, not to be dramatic. Am I this or that, white or not? Can I be both? These tests, and sometimes, occurrences outside standardized tests forced me to choose only one race, as in I am either Caucasian or Latina. For those who don't know what I'm talking about, it looks like this:
"Please check one: White (non-Hispanic or Latino), black, Latino, Asian, other."
This is where I would die a little inside and then get confused about what to do. What if you're white and Latina? Or black and Latina? The possibilities are endless, really. (To be fair, this also happens to a lot of people with any combination of races.)
I'd laugh nervously, thinking out scenarios like, "Will they grade my test easier if I choose one over the other?" or "Are there not many people like me?". And if I had to choose, I'd always choose Caucasian because I look white. Never mind the fact that my family recognizes more Spanish events or traditions. But to all the standardized test makers, please dilute and erase the idea of everyone being purebred.
I've figured out that though this isn't a major problem in my life, it can be for some people. It's enough for me to write about. And that's not okay. Here's a peek into the struggles of mixed-race people (these are my personal experiences, so they possibly apply to other people, too):
1. People don't know how to identify you
Though you may have become comfortable with the idea, interracial families is still a new territory for some others. This does not make you an alien, just unique. Sometimes you don't fall into stereotypes, but you're an individual, not a hyped generalization.
2. When people try to identify you, they're incorrect
Yes, I may look a certain way or act a certain way, but not acknowledging the other parts of me and just assuming is completely ignorant. But that's why we ask first and don't assume because that makes an ass out of you and me. Don't try and decide for me.
3. You become what people want you to be
Look at all these white girls drinking Starbucks. She's so sassy... that's such a Latina thing. Need a minority? Guess I'm your girl. A majority, maybe? Still your girl. I guess I can fit any mold if it helps, but I'm not a number or a statistic. I'm a person with a separate identity.
4. Jokes still hurt
White jokes, Spanish jokes, actually, ANY racial joke. Just stop. The border has nothing to do with my family. And tacos aren't even our thing. Don't bring in Nazis. Just quit while you're ahead.
5. Yes, I do belong to both of my parents
Meaning both parties created me even though genetics worked in such a way to make me look more of one race than the other.
6. Family trees are kind of weird
For me, my one side can be traced back a little too far, thanks to a lot of personal records. But the other is more of a question mark after my great-grandparents, and that's okay. Details aren't needed, I know enough.
7. The lack of immersion for one culture seems to make me less of it
Here's the thing: my father's first language was Spanish and his second was English. But even though my last name is Escandon and I am Latina, doesn't mean I know Spanish. I don't have to, though it'd be cool. I am aware that this culture is beautiful, but I can appreciate it without knowing the native tongue. That doesn't make me more of who I am. No, I don't celebrate Cinco De Mayo or celebrate Oktoberfest, but we have other little family things that are just as cool.
Don't let people or pointless information-sucking papers define you. You're beautiful no matter what race or how you identify.
