Growing up in a multi-racial household, I always knew something was different about my family. My childhood was filled with so many different influences, different cultures, many accents, and lots of traveling. It was normal, and I learned to accept it. Being bi-racial has been a blessing.
My mom was born in Colombia, which many would say is one of the most vibrant, loud, and beautiful cultures. The Colombian people live a certain way of life. Family and friendship are extremely important, and having a community that sits down on weekends to tells stories and laughs is also a must. My mom’s side of the family is huge and filled with many people waiting to show their love for you. Families always know what’s going on in each others lives, and thrive to be constantly close at all times.
My dad was born in one of the most beautiful parts of England, the lake district (aka the countryside). It’s a part of England that’s very quaint and small, but precious at the same time. I was recently able to go visit my grandma and all of the other towns that neighbor where my dad grew up. It’s breathtaking and basically looks like the town from Downton Abbey. The culture is different in every way; it’s quieter and slow. Lots of tea is sipped and scones consumed. Lots of football is watched while passionate shouting is yelled out from every fan, (Manchester United is the best btw...) It’s a culture that’s very laid-back and romantic, with love being expressed differently. My Grandma would love to sit and ask my sister and I questions about everything, not because she didn’t know us, but because she wanted to really get to know us, to know our wants, our desires, and our dreams. Long walks and hikes are taken, and deep questions are answered.
Both of my parent’s cultures are so different, but ironically enough, they actually end up complimenting each other. I grew up always knowing that I was multi-cultural, and being proud of it. Bragging when I was young that I got the sassy and sophisticated side from my mom, and the conceptual and realistic side from my dad.
For me, at least, I never thought that being a second generation American was that big of a deal, until I realized that I had no immediate family in the U.S. We had to travel to see close family whether it was to Colombia or to England, and even for my dad’s side of the family as they had spread out all throughout Europe. So, it was just my parents, my sister, and I in America. It was like the Half-English Half- Colombian family take on the American traditions and lifestyle.
Thankfully growing up, I only had to juggle two languages. And when I mean juggle, I mean actually learn both languages at the same time. I spoke and wrote mostly in English because of school, but I learned Spanish through conversation and decoding what my parents were trying to keep from my sister and me by speaking Spanish.
Birthdays were always fun, because if you were like me, you would have your birthday in Colombia where hundreds of people would come that you didn’t even know existed, but that were apparently your cousins, which automatically made for more friends. You would sing your birthday song four to five different ways, as each way represented certain cultures and people in your life.
The Super Bowl was not a big deal in my family like it is in most American families. My dad would kind of get into it, by going to his friend’s houses but my mom and sister and I would normally stay home and just watch the commercials…but, when it came to the World Cup, my family went crazy. For example, when Colombia actually did really good in the last World Cup, tears were shed.
Because both of my parents are international, traveling has been expected. They know what it’s like outside of the US, even though they both adore (like, seriously — love) this country and all the opportunities it has made for us, they expect my sister and I to explore other places, as well and step out of our bubbles and travel to places that aren’t necessarily comfortable, but in return grow us as people.
Being multicultural, multi-racial, ethnically diverse, or whatever you want to call it is a blessing. It’s something to be proud of, something to boast about. America is made up of so many different ethnicities. Even the word “American” is such a generalized term because even the “most Americans” are not even originally from here all the way. Everyone has different races in them, and that’s so cool. Like we are all this massive melting pot, so be proud of where you come from, it makes up who you are, and be proud of where your parents came from because they have taught you and loved you based on what how they were taught.
