Personal Narrative: My Stereotypes Of Being American

I am not white, but I am not Mexican either. I am, however, a first generation Mexican American with parents from San Luis Potosi, Mexico. Perhaps I do not know what it is like to cross the border that refrains me from being Mexican, or the color of my skin that refrains me from being white, but my own personal experiences make me the Mexican American that I am today. Growing up I celebrated the Fourth of July with fireworks, and the Day of the Virgin of Guadalupe with matlachines.

An example of how cops automatically make people of color threats and result into murdering them/using physical violence is the act of “stop and frisk” and getting pulled over for license and registration. When the person resists or even when you oblige, it leads to violence because you’re suddenly seen as a threat for “reaching for a weapon” and end up getting killed or hurt. These stops were reasons to target people of color to get searched and questioned without any probable cause until it became illegal (only to stop and frisk). Getting pulled over is still an issue today and every day that passes a black person becomes a statistic due to the culture of violence police have with firearms or the type of weapons that they overuse like tasers and pepper spray or even the excessive physical abuse/ force. “In court, Mr. Schmidt depicted Mr. Spear as a nasty and recalcitrant inmate who had started the physical dispute with Mr. Coll.”

Walking into my kindergarten class, I had no idea that it would be the last time I shared a classroom with people with similar beliefs and backgrounds as me. I had no idea that my intelligence would separate me from my friends and from my culture. In fifth grade, I was one out of four Hispanic children in my class. By then, I got used to people asking me if I’d say something in Spanish for them, acting as if I was an alien from outer space. I remember always declining their requests due to my embarrassment because by this time, most of my friends were white and I felt the need to fit in.

By all means; the Imperfect Mexican-American When I was younger, I couldn't fathom what my parents meant when they said ‘‘Cruce la frontera para que tengan una mejor vida,’’ In other words, I crossed the border for my children to have the future they longed for; their American dream. I understood the troubles and sacrifices they went through and felt the pain they carried for leaving their motherland, yet I didn't understand what life they were looking for me and my sisters. Years later, one afternoon, my sister greets us with the news that she got accepted to college, I thought this is it, the better life my parents wished for us, the sacrifices they made are paying off, yet to my surprise what was suppose to be proudness turned out to be

Black lives truly did get much worse. Now the inability to speak out against injustice, fearing the fact that officers could get away with anything unlike before where voices were heard and feel free to speak

Coming from a Mexican background and first time generation College student, I have had to face the difficulties with being first. When I was younger, I noticed that most of my classmates were not in the same boat as I was. This led to me thinking less of myself and being embarrassed of where I came from. As I grew older, I found classmates who were in the same situation as I was and suddenly my background was not the burden I thought it was. I learned to accept who I am and feel apart of something once I discovered some of class mates come from the same origins.

My younger brother would always spot me, and I had to convince him to keep my secret from our parents. I was 12 years old when the first northern immigrants came. At first, we were

The world mourned when the Twin Towers burned, when Brussels was bombed, and when ordinary people were slain at a concert in Paris. All of these atrocities happened because of radicalization, the taking an ordinary person and influencing their views to be more extreme politically or socially. Radicalization is a social issue that was presented in the novel, Unwind, by Neal Shusterman. One of the main characters, Lev, was radicalized by a terrorist group, known as the Clappers. Clappers lace their blood with explosives and then clap to blow themselves up, killing as many people as possible.

At my high school, most people believe that being Hispanic means you are from Mexico. As an officer in my school’s Hispanic Society, I work to educate fellow students that being Hispanic includes many nationalities and cultures. Both of my parents are from Guatemala, and my Hispanic heritage is strong. This is why I participate in Hispanic Society.

Being a child of immigrant parents is not easy. You are constantly living in the fear that one day you’ll wake up and you parents won’t be there with you anymore. Specially now that we have a new president, things are getting more challenging. But don’t get me wrong, I live a happy life. I am proud to call myself a Latina.

I think I will always feel bad when I get judged by who I am and my culture It’s hard being Mexican. Even living in a small community people can be racist everywhere you go there are always going to be racist people. The first time I think I was judged was eleven years old.

I grew up in a two-parent household with my parents being married before they had children. My father has always been the one that provides finically, while my mother was the one who took care of my siblings and I throughout my childhood. Being that both of my parents were born in Mexico, I consider myself Mexican American. I am proud to be Mexican American. Culture plays a huge role in shaping your identity.

It took me so long to try and find where I fit and belong. I now know that my identity is something unique and individual and any person growing up, with or without immigrant parents, struggle to find

Of course racism is everywhere but being a hispanic child in public school in such a large city there was a large variation in races so everyone pretty much got along. Once I moved to Kentucky I noticed that I would get a lot of stares and that many people would try to seperate themselves from me. I would get a mix of racist remarks and questions about who I was. Some people were interested in why I could speak more than one language while others would push me away and make it clear that they did not want me to be around them. At first i was confused because as a 9 year old with no experience with racism I did not know what was going on.

Choosing to be a Mexican over American Today I feel more like a Mexican than anything else even though I was born in the united states. I may have papers and be American but hearing other ethnicities call my people immigrants and illegal makes me feel more like an immigrant myself. I feel this way because although I am considered an American I would much rather stand by my people and my culture. I would label myself as a Mexican-American, Latina, person of color, and as a minority. I describe myself as a Mexican-American because I was born and raised in Chicago and from Mexican descent.