HONESTY HOUR: ON BEING PASSING

[me in the 1st grade!]

Honesty hour is a monthly feature where I take a break from the happy stuff and get real about something in my life. This is as real as it gets.

Am I going to really go here? Yup, last post of 2018, I have to go out on the second deepest thing I can, the deepest thing I might save for the end of 2019, ha!

I have never felt brown enough to be Mexican, there, yeah I finally got that out into the universe. Some people can just tell, even though I can get pretty pale, especially in the winter, that I'm Mexican but I've heard ALL of the guesses my whole life. Asian, Native American, are the most common, but for most of my life I just wanted to be white.

"Not brown enough to be brown, not white enough to be white."

I promised myself when I was little, maybe in Kindergarten when the teasing started, that I would marry a white man and have little white babies, I couldn't take the chance that my babies wouldn't be brown enough, just like me. Clearly, there is a lot here to unpack, and I won't air of it on the internet, but I've hated my skin color a lot of my life. When I was homeschooled it was the easiest, but I did one year of high school in Mississippi.

I didn't even realize a lot of the racism that I faced until moving somewhere that isn't surrounded by constant racism. I did recognize some of it, I'm not completely brainwashed. There was only one other Hispanic girl in the entire high school and one white teacher could NEVER tell us apart, even though we looked nothing alike. We were in two separate grades and she was darker skinned than me.  I didn't realized she was being racist until much later, just like another teacher insinuated that I was too poor to go on a trip, because of my skin color.

I didn't understand, I was trying to blend in, I would just play it off like I was white and people would ask, "Where are you really from?" I would reply, Florida. " No, really, like what ARE you?" I knew they meant my ethnicity, but I just wanted to be white.Sometimes it made me feel like an alien, what am I? Like I was an exotic breed of animal they had never seen before. All the times the boys would say, "You're pretty for a Mexican.", "I've never been with a Mexican before." Their specialty was making me feel like I was in a separate rating system from the white girls.

Other classmates telling me I should work at the Mexican restaurant in town that often employed illegal immigrants. I didn't understand why. I thought they knew I could cook the food, I didn't know they were being racist.

The KKK (yes, THAT KKK) held rallies at our courthouse. I just wanted to be white. Sometimes I still do want to be white.  I overheard a girl telling her boyfriend's friend that if he liked me I could make him some rice and beans.  I didn't mean for this to be a, Mississippi is full of racists post, because honestly, racism is everywhere. I know that other people have had it much worse and that there are truly good people in Mississippi, I don't mean this to marginalize anyone.

When I moved to Utah with my husband, for the first time in my life I felt like I could be brown. After experiencing inclusion in the military and marrying my husband, I learned what to accept, which was nothing short of what I deserved, respect. The family I was welcomed into, the people I have surrounded myself with, they have truly accepted me and my culture, my quirks, my lightness, my everything.

It felt almost perfect. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to feel different. I was walking home from the TRAX (our train system) and started to cross the street when someone on a scooter was approaching, they seemed far enough away so I began crossing. The person started cussing me out. I just ignored them and got across the street, when they got close to me they yelled out, "Puta bitch! Do you understand me now? Do you not fucking speak English?" I had to look around for who they were talking to. It definitely brought all of the familiar feelings of shame back. I felt isolated again, but I have come to realize, I am Mexican.

People who are racist have something wrong with them, there is nothing wrong with me. No one can make me feel like less of a Mexican, and no one can make me feel less than a person without my permission. This has been a life long battle that I thought I was fighting with other people, I thought I had to prove to people how Mexican I was, in reality, I don't have to prove anything to anyone. No one's opinion of me matters. I know in my heart the truth, and that is all that matters. It really helps that I've surrounded myself with people who love me, for me.

If you're struggling with an internal battle, I hope you know I'm rooting for you to find your way to the other side. Love yourself, you are so perfect just the way you are!