How much Latino is Latino enough?
by Shelly Cone
Whenever I look in the mirror,
I'm reminded in many ways that I'm
Latina. My dark features, full lips and strong nose say it. My ample
curves–thanks mom– confirm it. I'm reminded of my Hispanic roots every
time I come across an immigrant at the bus stop and they approach me
using a thick Spanish I barely recognize. They talk to me in Spanish not
because they can't speak English but more so because my looks lead them
to wrongly assume I speak the mother tongue. Even the Mexican-American
store clerks often address me in Spanish before seeing the "What the?"
look on my face and then revert to perfect English.
I'm proud to be Latina. However, I am also proud to be educated, I'm
proud to be ambitious and career oriented and financially stable. I'm
really proud to be married to my Caucasian husband and extremely proud
of the three boys our union has produced. Each one a unique blend of
dark hair, light green eyes, and dirty blond hair with dark green eyes,
and finally the littlest, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes.
Each one with skin that goes from the color of café con leche in the
winter to a rich burnt caramel brown in the summer.
So why am I considered a white girl? By my relatives. The same family
that watched me pound bowls of menudo, platefuls of enchiladas, and
snack on tortillas and butter, and empanadas?
For some time I'd gotten used to the whispers: "She's our 'white'
cousin. snicker, snicker." Then for a while maybe I became oblivious to
it.
Then last weekend I attended an event. Birthday party, funeral it's all
the same, we have a dance and everyone wears black. Except me. All I
could find to wear was a white strapless dress with a white sweater, a
belt made of sea shells, a white flower in my hair and flip flops. I
looked good. OK, actually, I was smoking hot. So I was prepared for a
few stares. My husband and I walked into the hall and everyone stared,
and whispered. I tried to shrug it off and make the rounds, kissing tia
Terri on the cheek and giving uncle Jackie a hug and a high five, cousin
David a pat on the back and politely shaking the hand of my other tia's
on-and-off-again husband. Then I heard it. Someone gave me a hug and
said, "Oh honey, I didn't recognize you, I said to myself 'Who is that
white girl walking in?" hee hee."
Yeah, ha, ha. It has stopped being funny.
I wonder what makes them say that. I've often wanted to ask but I'm
afraid of the answer. Is it a derogatory thing? If that's the case, I
take offense because my husband is white and my children are half.
Is is a compliment? If that's the case, then I'm disappointed that being
called an ethnicity other than my own is a compliment. Like it's better
to be white than it is to be Latino. It would be a sad thing if that's
what my relatives believe inside.
What makes them more Latino than me? Is it the foods we eat, because my
husband makes salsa hotter than anything my relatives could eat and can
drink tequila with the best of them. Is it that they pepper more of
their sentences with Spanish than I do? Tell that to my 2-year-old who
doesn't know what 'water' is but loves to play in the 'agua' (or 'awa'
as he says it) outside on a hot day.
They watch baseball, we like soccer. We can name every little authentic
Latin-food-hole-in-the-wall in town, they like the franchise
restaurants. I could go on, but you see it really gets me no where. It
never answers the question.
So I'll write this and then let it go. And I'll go home and fix some
enchiladas (my family's favorite) and make up some homemade dulce de
leche for our dessert. And be comfortable with who I am. A modern
American Latina.
Have you ever had to prove your Latino-ness?
Sofrito guest blogger, Shelly Cone (@shellycone) is a reporter and public relations pro who rants and raves at her blogTheseAreTheSaladYears.com
It is unfair to be called any name that takes away from our authenticity. I have been called “impostora” and “pegada” (stuck like glue) in an affectionate way, and one day it stopped being funny. Once in a mean way, someone said “Oh, you’re a fake Latina” simply because she did not recognize the legitimacy of my marrying a Latino, embracing his culture and speaking only Spanish with him.
Name-calling never solves anything, whether it is done jokingly or not.It only leads to more name-calling, as that woman’s hurtful comment led me to question why she was a “true” Latina simply because she had been born into the culture. It took me years to forgive her.
O!M!G!… I can relate!!!
I grew up being constantly told (by family, friends and strangers) I wasn’t white enough to be Puerto Rican or dark enough to be Dominican (but I’m both). I was also constantly told I wasn’t meaty or curvy enough to be Latin (so what if I’m on the thin side). Then in the corporate world I was always reminded of how I wasn’t American enough because of my Latin mannerisms and my way of speaking (they couldn’t handle the wise latina in me). But I’m all of the above — I’m multiCultural — I’m who God made me to be, despite the environment.
I still get some Latin people who are intimidated by me and their reactions are very interesting to see. All I can do is be myself and hope I’m a positive role model to children and even grown adults.
I wrote this poem in defense of my identity. It’s connected to what you wrote. Thank you Shelly for expressing yourself.
The All-American-Latin Girl-Next-Door
http://americanlatingirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/all-american-latin-girl-next-door.html
Latina means I am the sum of two rich cultures. I am perfectly comfortable with speaking English as well as Spanish. I love the history of our Puertorican traditions, music and food almost as much as I like rock music. I carry it with me and add to it from the places I live, visit and the people I meet.
But what struck me as being way off in this article was the comment about education.
What a horrible misguided thought, to equate being educated with erasing an entire culture, language, traditions . . .
To me that is the complete opposite of education. It is the proliferation of ignorance. I am richer, fuller and worldly knowing more than one language. It is an asset to my skillset and an advantage over others.
I feel confident being my true self, a University graduate living in the US (sometimes Puerto Rico) fluent in more than one language. I do not feel I have to comply to anothers standards or defend my likes or dislikes.
My advise to anyone feeling like the author of the article is to love yourself and set the standards that you are comfortable with. Stop being a victim of racism.
I was born and raised in Puerto Rico until age 15. My ancestry all leads to Spain, Africa, or the indigenous Tainos. But a disproportionate amount of that ancestry leads to Spain, and I am blond.
Even in Puerto Rico some people talk to me in English thinking that I am not Boricua. I love salsa music with a pasion, and after taking lessons from Cuban and Puertorican instructors, I am a pretty good dancer. Yet I find so many latinas that are such stuck up snobs about dancing with a blond guy, they never accept my invitation to the dance floor.
So it is quite ironic that as I have traveled the world my favorite place to go to a salsa club is now Asia, where they care more about your skill first.
I am puerto rican from the bronx living in Houston Texas. I get bad treatment from many blacks and mexicans here because I am light skinned, talk well, and a male. It does not bother me that they call me white, are shocked to find out I am hispanic, or flat out worse say racist and ignorant things like ” Well, you do not look Pr” or worse ” You don’t look not act like the PR’s I have met”. However, I do notice that white women tend to get much better treatment, especailly when speaking really bad worse than a non native speaker spanish. Just some observations, but the bes way I cope with the racism, and ignorant labels, and flat out denial that puerto ricans can and are predominantly non-african, is to live better than the ignorantes…and it helps that I speak, read, and write in spanish. Oh, and I can cook pernil , tostones, maduros, alcapurrias, etc…so I guess looks can be an indicator of our latinoness, but often times not. Great blog !