It’s been about two years since I was in high school and it was this time two years ago, that I was applying to colleges. I honestly don’t remember ever being more excited about anything else during my senior year. I had so many things to think about; my course of study, where I wanted to dorm, tuition, campus life, but the most important is one I didn’t think about.

Diversity.

That was the last thing that had crossed my mind when applying for schools, but I heard people bring it up more and more often. “I want a diverse school, somewhere that I can find a community like my own at home.” It soon became my top priority; I had to be comfortable at my school and I needed somewhere that would allow me to have a community that was judgment-free.

To me, it wasn’t difficult and I was back on my merry way to college registration. Until one day, my dad sent me a blog post written by Tiffany Martínez called "Academia, Love Me Back."

“This morning, my professor handed me back a paper (a literature review) in front of my entire class and exclaimed 'this is not your language.' On the top of the page, they wrote in blue ink: 'Please go back and indicate where you cut and paste.' The period was included. They assumed that the work I turned in was not my own. My professor did not ask me if it was my language, instead, they immediately blamed me in front of peers. On the second page, the professor circled the word 'hence' and wrote in between the typed lines 'This is not your word.' The word 'not' was underlined. Twice.”

This is just an excerpt from the post and it made me so nervous to think that this could happen anywhere. To think that no matter where I went I would have to succumb to others who felt they knew more than I did.

The worst part of it all was that although this was a fear of mine, it was also my father's. He did not want me to be forced into this sort of alienation because of how I looked. Regardless of the fact that my first language was English and that I only have a resemblance of an accent when I speak Spanish.

When will people understand that just because I speak Spanish, it is not equivalent to me not being able to speak English. It is possible for me to speak both and fluently, without room for judgment. While many are quick to judge Martínez for her “quick judgment” of his words, they will never understand the feeling of being picked on because of your ethnicity and the language you speak. While he may not have been a stereotypical “racist,” it does not take away from the weight of his words and it still does not take away the sting.