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Beans and Rice.


Quieres venir con nosotros questioned my grandma. Are you coming with
us to the grocery store? Sure I replied. Walking into Vallarta just to
pick up some spices was like entering a new planet and I was the
alien.  All eyes followed me even younger children carried their stare
till I was out of sight. I come from a diverse family where half of
the table consists of beans and rice and the other of meat loaf and
gravy. My father is Caucasian born and raised in Michigan, and my
mother was born in El Salvador brought to the states at age four. I
find myself caught in two worlds that can't maintain each other.
You're Hispanic? Do you speak it? Well why not? Questions I constantly
receive and refuse to answer. I'm judged by Hispanics because of my
race. My highs school holds a majority of Hispanics that refuse to
befriend Caucasians and speak about us as if we are the ones who
locked up their gang banger cousins. Entering a Spanish 3 class was a
new exciting and challenging experience for me but my presence was
clearly not wanted by the students and my own teacher.  As hard as I
tried to impress Mrs. Gutierrez with my presentations and essays I
always received a negative vibe from her. As my junior year ended I
was packing up for the bell to ring but was stopped as I overheard
students vent to Mrs. G that I shouldn't be the class because I'm
behind and constantly ask questions. Obviously myself being blonde
haired and blue eyed, their first instinct would be to speak in
Spanish so I do not understand but they clearly misread this blonde
haired girl who secretly eats beans and rice at home.  I never knew
where to fit in because over time I became ashamed of myself. I was
teased by white friends. I wanted to be just a white girl and not
Latina.  Every get together we had with my mom's side of the family I
was given unwanted vibes again, my presence was not wanted by own
family. I was seen as different and useless because I did not speak
Spanish. My 3.5 GPA meant nothing compared to the fact that I haven't
visited El Salvador. After arguing back and forth I find myself alone
in a corner pondering why I am who I am.
I come from a high school where sheriffs have to be on duty 24/7 and
where fights with Hispanics vs. blacks brake out. I keep blaming the
people around me for judging me, and leaving me out as an excuse to
stray away from my studies and call myself average. But I now realize
it is not the people who surround me who make me this uncomfortable
and awkward person, but myself as I countless of times recall the
negative comments people have told me. It brings me to a lower state
of being.  I am unashamed of who I am. No matter how judge mental
people may observe me. "Don't change for anyone; show them how great
you are by being you." Wise words my boyfriend tells me as I vent upon
my hopeless dilemmas of struggling to have friends. In order to have
friends, and take on new challenges I realized I need to accept who I
was mentally and physically before anyone else could. Enough of the
"I'm just average" and "I don't fit in" talk. I'm above average and I
don't fit in because I stand out but I'm okay with that. I realize
that I've struggled with insecurities and have taken them out on
others but as I perceive the gaining of absolutely nothing I changed
my perspective and accept who I am. I am prepared to fail but I am
just as prepared to pick myself up and keep going.As it turns out I am
my worst enemy, I am the gossips who brings my own self down, and I am
the "bad surroundings." Such insecurities brought me to a breaking
point to where I lost all my friends because I was always in a nasty
mood and had only negative things to say.  I have strong faith in God
and I pray every day that I will never return to that place, I'm in a
better set of mind now and love where I am. I have goals that I'm
achieving in front of my own eyes. I plan to continue this and go to
college with a positive attitude ready to take on the world.
 
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