My Illusive Identity (Rough Draft)

                                                  My Illusive Identity

            Generally all individuals begin developing their identity during adolescence.  Growing up as a self proclaimed “hybrid” because I was both White and Mexican, I found it very difficult to understand culture. My mother had been cohabitating with a man that I genuinely thought was my biological father. He also was Mexican, but didn’t really practice his culture away from his family, thus leaving me wondering until the latter years of his life. Still, whenever we visited his side of the family it became clear his culture was all about being loud, having a good time, and enjoying great Mexican cuisine. The scent of albondigas stewing, watching tacos being constructed, analyzing the secrets of amazing tamale recipes, and of course occasionally walking through the kitchen stealing fist full samples of all that is food stick with all my senses till this day. I could not help but to compare my experience to that of Gloria Anzaldua’s when she describes her identities through food. With that being said I can arguably say that my love for food and the senses triggered by it became my first sense of identity.  

            After acknowledging my fancy for Mexican food, then I searched for a sense of guidance on what type of person I should be. However, unfortunately I did not exactly have the best role models growing up. Most of my “step fathers” family did drugs, smoked, joined gangs, stole, accepted dead end jobs, didn’t graduate high school, belittled me, called me stupid, and blamed the world for their circumstances. Yet oddly for some reason I somehow developed my own reasoning and decided that I didn’t want to follow their footsteps. My mother’s side was not much better; therefore theoretically I was being set up for failure. By somehow understanding that I can make my own decision or choose my own path I created an internal sense of pride and belief that I could change my stars so to speak, even at the tender age of eight years old. Therefore, the history of my “step-fathers” and mother’s families could not affect me anymore, thus influencing my unique frame of mind today.

            The language barriers in life consist of variables in which we as individuals sometimes struggle to connect. I moved back to California for the second time at age twelve, but unlike the first time around I was now slapped in the face with the Mexican/Latin culture. The middle school I attended was roughly 90% percent Latino and I had just moved in from Salt Lake City, Utah. Instantly I had to learn Spanish at least a little bit just to get by and several slang language was used along with different dialects. Immediately I was labeled the “gringo” not just because of my lack of speaking Spanish, but also due to my light complexion and height. Some kids could only speak Spanish, so that forced me to try and develop a common ground of communication. So that means I ended up speaking some Spanish and they would speak some English and we would practically invent words that only we understood to work on and complete assignments. However, other kids felt that I should try harder to learn their language and would put me down for being “so white.” After a while I gained the confidence to ignore them and be proud of the fact that I have one primary language. Gloria Anzaldua in “How to tame a wild tongue,” states “I will no longer be made to feel ashamed of existing. I will have my voice: Indian, Spanish, White. I will have my serpents tongue” (109). At that time I did develop the same type of protest as Gloria, even though in this particular context it is slightly reversed. It is tough being caught between two cultures and not truly living either one of them, but through my youth experiences I can confidently say that the Mexican culture the one I can call my own.

            In conclusion, since the moment I was brought into this world my sense of identity has been increasingly hard to come by. Through the shambles that existed throughout my adolescence I did learn a lot about myself and what I am capable of. Both Mexican and White cultures are a part of me, but I am neither a master of either one as well. Love was learned through values, values were learned through common sense, common sense was learned through experiences, and experiences were learned through mistakes of others as well as mistakes of my own. Through my developed logic over the years all these characters lead to my uniqueness, my sense of being, therefore my identity.

Work Citation:

Gloria Anzaldua. “How to tame a wild tongue” Mercury Reader. Boston, MA:

                Pearson Learning Solutions. 2012 Pg. 102-115.