Personal Narrative: Being A Mexican American Women

My story would have never begun if my parents had not made a huge decision in my life, almost 15 years ago. When they decided to move our family across the border, my future would be become unknown. The fate I had been destined to have was completely altered, now, I had the opportunity to change my life for the better, to strive for something bigger. My parents pushed me to be the best I could be, and to work as hard as possible to get what I wanted. As the daughter of two Mexican immigrants I grew up in a very cultural household, and being surrounded by Spanish at all times. The only negative being I had to learn English on my own, and which led to me having some difficulty when I first started school. Yet, growing up in a Spanish speaking

From a very early age, I always assumed it was a part of my future to pursue an education. The American educational system engraves the importance of school at a very young age. Elementary school children are motivated through rewards when they try their hardest to reach their goals. Students are exposed to statistics and facts outlining the consequences of not getting a college degree as soon as they reach middle school. High school counselors and staff make it their priority to ensure that students apply to college. Students are conditioned to believe that education is the building block to a successful future. My cultural upbringing did not support my choice to pursue an education, however, I refused to conform to my family’s behavioral expectations because certain norms must be challenged due to progressive time periods and conflicting values.

Growing up, I barely heard the early 2000’s hits blasting from the car radio; instead, Marc Anthony would always serenade us. Growing up, Christmas day didn’t begin Christmas morning; instead Christmas day began Christmas Eve night. Growing up, I didn’t dismiss my heritage; instead, I embraced it. My Latino background defines who I am. Surging throughout my body, my Puerto Rican and Salvadoran heritage has shaped me into the person I am today.

When I was walking along a river to gather sticks for a fire and a lady came up to me and I quickly ran I jumped over rocks and made it across the river. I knew she had the black plague. When I knew she wasn’t following me, I stopped. I knew who she was, it was Annabeth’s mom. I had to tell her, so I went back to my treehouse where me and my friends hang out.

This is one of the most painful subjects for me as a part Hispanic and part African-American. When I relocated to the United States in 1988, I was not prepared for what I experienced concerning racism in America. The racist and ignorant comments made by Hispanics towards and about African American and the racist and ignorant comments made by African Americans towards and about Hispanics were disturbing and offensive to say the least. And each and every time I stood up for my Hispanic roots and my African-American roots. Added to that, the issue of “dark skin and light skin within the African-American community. First time, I heard the term “high yellow ______” was when an African-American woman used that term about me. I didn’t even know what

Being first generation Mexican American to me is a title that comes with responsibility as well as an opportunity. Growing up, parents always preach to their eldest children that their actions have the consequences of impacting their younger siblings. I believe that as first generation Hispanics, it is our duty to build a strong foundation that later generations may build on. Whenever I think of being Hispanic, the word heritage comes to mind. In the frame of being an ethic minority in America, it is important for new generations to learn about their individual history and culture. As human beings we find comfort in what we are accustom too; For example I often get advice from friends living on their own saying “leaving home is the hardest

“Wow...there is no way you’re Latino. You’re way too white!” was the ignorant remark made by a one of my peers during my school’s annual Latin-American Fest. Initially, hearing this claim made me look into the mirror. I began to stroke my face and examine my physical features. Was this true? Was I not Latino enough? Did the amount of melanin or lack thereof deem me as Latino?

I was quite intrigued by this narrative, mainly because of the symbolism behind it. I initially thought the narrative was going to be about racism in America, or how illegal immigrants are treated worse than normal civilians. But after reading the narrative thoroughly, I had ambivalent feelings about assimilation, and how dangerous it can be for people from different cultures.

Hi there! I’m 19 years old and I’m a freshman in college. I live in the border of the Mexico and the US therefore my mom would take me to Mexico to see my family, some friends of hers and be able to know our culture. One of our many traits of being Mexican is treating everyone like family. I met this older girl and we would often visit her. Eventually we became a family out of love and care for each other.

But to my family and I, it meant a lot because living in a hispanic community my whole life in this area, there were little to no ladies graduating from high school. Why? Well, because most girls in our community would either fall into bad paths and join bad groups in the community or they would get pregnant at an early age and just not care about school anymore. Because of this those around my family would always say that spanish girls never finish high school, let alone go to college. But I was always passionate when it came to my education, I was driven to overcome those stereotypes and break them, so I did so. But to do so I had to adapt to how people would react so negatively when I would say that I wanted to finish high school and go to college and study psychology. Adaptation to these mean and sometimes rude comments was something I had to do quick because they occurred so much to the point where they became very stressful and anxiety filled situations. “Adaptation is developmental changes that are the results of experiencing and eventually managing stressful and challenging situations”(Hoyer & Roodin, 2009). When ever I was asked if I was in high school or about my future goals I would get frustrated ahead of time because I

I have never asked for a pity judgement amongst or based upon my past. Every challenge I have faced in my lifetime has been for a reason, a reason I might not know yet. At the age of 7 I was forced to take on life changing incidents. I had my childhood stripped from me and little did I know would later have a positive outcome for many reasons. 1 in every 6 American women experience attempted or completed rape in her lifetime, and sadly I was one of these statistics. In 1986, a research was done concluding 64% of women who reported rape by a family member, younger than the age of 14. Many of these girls, including myself, blame themselves for the crime that was inflicted upon them. Although I had many things distracting me in life, I never

Coming from a low-income family my thoughts about becoming somebody in life were low. I was usually told I wouldn't make it because of my financial status. My dad Mario graduated from high school neither did he complete middle school. He dropped out in the third grade. He was brought from Mexico into the United States at the age of 13 and began working in the fields. My mother she graduated from high school and she did have a job at Washington Mutual Bank until she was fired. Every morning, my mom

I come from a middle to low class family. My mother raised my siblings and I by herself because my father died in a car accident when I was two years old. Years later my mom met my sister’s dad, things didn’t work out. She then met my brother’s dad, but he got deported and she moved on. Finally, she met a guy and had my baby brother and got married. I am the second oldest of my four siblings and the second to go to college. Seeing my mother work so hard in a factory job making mediocre money for a family of six motivated me. My mother got pregnant with my older brother when she was 17. She decided to drop out of school because she didn’t want to be judged by the other students. She always said that education is important, and we need to go to college, so we can have a better life. Gudmunson stated (2011) “Quality family relationships have been characterized by warmth, trust, mutual reciprocity”, I knew I wanted to go to college and my family wanted it for me too. I simply found it impossible because I couldn’t ask my mom for help or anyone in my family because they didn’t go to college. Going to college was just a dream and unrealistic in my life. Socialization in my family was occurring but unfortunately cheering me on didn’t help me figure out what to do. My family always emphasized the importance of school. My family didn’t get the opportunity to get an education and made it crucial for us to not take the opportunities we have for granted.

My parents did not teach me that I was not like everyone else, that I could not attend college like everyone else. In my earlier years, I was unaware that there were differences among human beings. Of course our elementary education spoke to us about racism, yet no one clarified that in 2013 there would still be so much discrimination. Luckily, under the Obama administration undocumented students were granted Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals. Through obtaining this paperwork I was able to have a job as well as initiate my undergraduate degree. I do not take for granted what I have lived through, instead I use every opposition to build my character and strive more for what I

Growing up in a low-income household, I was told to always focus on my studies and go to college so that I can have a career and not work minimum wage jobs for the rest of my life like my parents. Since my parents are both immigrants to the U.S., with little to no high school education, they weren’t given the same opportunities that me and my siblings have, being American citizens. My parents would tell me, “I work these long days and nights, so that you won’t have to” and I always took this to heart because I want to make sure that my parents sacrifice would not be in vain. I came from a low-income community where many of my peers did not continue their studies because they felt that it will just prolong their entry in the workforce. Many of my girlfriends did not have the same family support that I had growing up, and ended up pregnant and high school dropouts. Living in this environment, where being a Latina can either lead to teen pregnancy or lack of education caused me to work twice as hard as anyone else to ensure that I can do something better with my life. Through long hours at the library, taking AP classes and attending college workshops in the weekends, I became the first in my family and my friend group to graduate with honors in high school and go to college. Being a first-generation college student, it was tough to adapt to a higher paced environment, since I came from a semester system.