As I write this I want you all to know that similar to my adoption post, this post is from my perspective as not only someone who is adopted, but also someone of color. What I am about to write is from what I've experienced, and I do not speak for every adopted child, or person of color. Also like my adoption post, I would like to apologize for how wordy and perhaps not too coherent this post will be. Of course, I check to go back and edit for spelling and technical things like that, but sometimes my train of thought makes more sense to me than it does to others (sometimes... more like often).
Anyway, here it goes.
I've been looking for something to write, as usual, and yesterday I found my topic(s): being in between two cultures and being brown. Yesterday I went to a counseling session and one of the things I brought up was my trip to Guatemala this summer. I've had some concerns about the emotional toll that will probably take on me for the first few days I'm back in my birth country, a place I haven't been to since I was eight months old. While I am very, very, very excited about this trip with part of my family, I also understand it will bring about some feelings I'm not too sure about. I don't know how I'll feel when our plane lands, and what I'll do when I'm finally surrounded by people who look like me. It's all a big question. And this conversation of Guatemala and finally being the majority in a world where I've always been a minority, brought about the discussion of me being brown, and being Hispanic, all while living in a very white area.
As a kid, I only really associated my skin color in relation to my family. I was different from them; they're white, and I'm brown. Sure, I knew I was different than the majority of the kids from school, but I was so emotionally distraught about my life and what was happening within the context of my family, that I only thought about being so physically different than them more than the rest of the world. But, as I've gotten older, I've started to associate my skin color more with society as a whole, instead of just those who are around me.
Let's start off with the school district I was in. Don't get me wrong, I love the friends I have at the school I went to for years of my life. Still, there wasn't a whole ton of diversity with my peers. When I left that school district, I found a place that was a lot more diverse than I was ever used to. I think this was good for me, to feel like I almost sort of belonged somewhere. On the other hand, I realized that although I identify myself as Hispanic, I wasn't really 'Hispanic.' I'll be honest that I created this stereotype based on the kids I went to school with, and the things I thought I knew from television. So, I tried to force being Hispanic upon myself. I listened to more Spanish music. I tried to learn more about my culture and where I came from for more than just my own curiosity, but to adapt things from a Guatemalan culture, and integrate them in my life. Of course, that didn't work, because I couldn't walk around wearing a huipil, or start speaking some Mayan dialect whenever I wanted. Not only because the only huipil I own is made for a three year old, or because I didn't know Spanish or any Mayan dialect, but because it didn't feel right (I also came to a realization at some point that not all Hispanic people speak Spanish, dance well, or listen to Spanish music in the first place. So, that helped a little, but still). There was a part of me that wished I was more 'Hispanic.' But, like I said, it didn't feel right. Why? Because I'm also way more American than Guatemalan, and I've grown up in a Western culture and society. I've been raised by white people for practically my entire life, and they are my family. They don't know Spanish, they don't listen to Spanish music. The name I was given doesn't sound like your typical Spanish name. So sometimes identifying myself as Hispanic was just odd, but I also wasn't going to say I'm a white American, although I may 'act' like it. It's like for my entire life I've been stuck between two worlds, one of which I have access to, and another which I don't. This is one issue I face on a daily basis, because I say I'm Hispanic, more than I say I'm American. Yes, I am a citizen of the United States of America, but I was born in Guatemala and my computer background is of a Guatemalan flag. I have a print-out of that flag on my bedroom door, along with a map of my country. I'm going to Guatemala to see my home country. But I live in America and I have for the past 17 years and some odd months. This is my home, too. It's a dilema. And sometimes I feel so caught in between, that adding my actual skin color to the mix makes it even more confusing for me.
To say you're 'color blind' is honestly one of the silliest things you could say. You can't see me and say you don't see that I'm brown. That's just dumb. I acknowledge the fact the I'm different, and my own family does too. They're not going to say, "Oh, my daughter/sister isn't brown. I don't see her color because she's my real daughter/sister even though we adopted her from Guatemala." That's just slightly ridiculous. And I don't care that we acknowledge I'm different because it's the truth. In fact, I love that I don't get sunburned while they have to worry more about sunscreen (not to say I love that they get sunburned... hopefully you get what I mean). I'm proud to be Guatemalan and to have brown skin. I'm not ashamed of it. Still, there are occasions where I wonder what it would be like if I were white.
I've always known the meaning of white privilege. Although, in my mind, I associated it with other people. For example, I have a professor who gets braids every summer. People ask if her hair is real, or if they can touch it. She's black. Now, a white, brown-haired girl walks around with a braid or whatever, and people don't go up and ask her if her hair is real, or if they can touch it (normally, this is a very generalized instance). That's white privilege and that's what I've associated it with... other people who aren't me. But yesterday (why it's taken me so long to realize this, I don't know), I've associated white privilege with my own personal surroundings. In certain instances, I've been pointed out as the only non-white person in a room full of white people. I've been used as an example for certain things based on my skin color and where I come from. White privilege for me in those moments is seeing the rest of my friends not have to be singled out because they're skin is a different color.
Now, if you're reading this and you think, "But Maggie, you seem totally fine being used as an example!" or "But Maggie, you always laugh about it!" it may appear to be true, but looks can be deceiving. You see, I have this tendency to joke about things that bother me or make me uncomfortable. I laugh things off so I don't think about them, or cause some kind of scene.
I try my hardest not to let these things bother me, because it just seems silly to get upset about. But it bothers me. Just like when people say, "I look nothing like my family, I must be adopted!" bothers the heck out of me, so do comments that single me out. Yes, my skin color is different, but I'm not! Yes, I'm Hispanic and I was born in Guatemala and lived there for eight months, but I've lived in the US for practically my entire life. I've lived in the same state for the past 15 and a half years. While my physical appearance may be different than the majority of the people I interact with, I'm actually no different. I'm not saying you can't acknowledge my skin color, I mean, I do. I know I'm brown! What I'm saying is that to single me out isn't necessary. To use me as an example of something all the time isn't necessary. It doesn't have to happen so often, because then it just gets pointed out all over again that I'm not in one world. I'm caught in between two that never feel like will cohabitate.
This post isn't to say I hate the color of my skin. Like I said, I'm proud of it. I don't think I'm better than anyone because of it, but I'm not ashamed of it. Just because I wonder how much easier my life would be if I were white, doesn't mean I really wish I could change how I look. Being stuck between two cultures might be hard and leave me with more questions than answers, but that doesn't mean I would take back my adoption and chose to stay in Guatemala. Yeah, I could speak Spanish fluently. Yeah, I could wear a beautifully hand-woven huipil. Yeah, I sure as heck would feel I fully belonged in one place. BUT, I'm not only proud of where I came from, but where I am. Yeah, America has got its plethora of issues, but it's where I've been raised. It's where my real family is. I'm not mad they're white. I'm not mad 98% of my friends are white. I don't hate anyone because they're white.
This post is to give people of glimpse of what it's like, at least in my life and my experiences on a daily basis.
This quote on the left is today's post-ly quote. This is my part of my story and this part is something that I think has been brewing inside of me for longer than I really thought. That's probably why it's so wordy and jumbled. BUT, here it is. And I don't want anyone to feel weird or guilty or whatever about anything regarding race and whatever else. I'm just here to inform. I know I'm not white and I just don't have to be singled out so much. And for a while I've just accepted that as my life. Some girl who has no idea to what culture she belongs to, and some girl who will never fit in because of that and her skin color. But today, I know that I can be American, I can be Hispanic, and I can stop avoiding talking about an issue of skin color that actually affects me. I can learn more about where I came from, and appreciate it more, and visit my home country. It'll always be weird to be a part of two places, but that's okay. And I'll always be a minority and that won't always work out for me, but I wouldn't change who I am.
Hopefully this all gives you some understanding of what it's like, at least for me.
As always, thanks for reading.
---Maggie
Anyway, here it goes.
I've been looking for something to write, as usual, and yesterday I found my topic(s): being in between two cultures and being brown. Yesterday I went to a counseling session and one of the things I brought up was my trip to Guatemala this summer. I've had some concerns about the emotional toll that will probably take on me for the first few days I'm back in my birth country, a place I haven't been to since I was eight months old. While I am very, very, very excited about this trip with part of my family, I also understand it will bring about some feelings I'm not too sure about. I don't know how I'll feel when our plane lands, and what I'll do when I'm finally surrounded by people who look like me. It's all a big question. And this conversation of Guatemala and finally being the majority in a world where I've always been a minority, brought about the discussion of me being brown, and being Hispanic, all while living in a very white area.
As a kid, I only really associated my skin color in relation to my family. I was different from them; they're white, and I'm brown. Sure, I knew I was different than the majority of the kids from school, but I was so emotionally distraught about my life and what was happening within the context of my family, that I only thought about being so physically different than them more than the rest of the world. But, as I've gotten older, I've started to associate my skin color more with society as a whole, instead of just those who are around me.
Let's start off with the school district I was in. Don't get me wrong, I love the friends I have at the school I went to for years of my life. Still, there wasn't a whole ton of diversity with my peers. When I left that school district, I found a place that was a lot more diverse than I was ever used to. I think this was good for me, to feel like I almost sort of belonged somewhere. On the other hand, I realized that although I identify myself as Hispanic, I wasn't really 'Hispanic.' I'll be honest that I created this stereotype based on the kids I went to school with, and the things I thought I knew from television. So, I tried to force being Hispanic upon myself. I listened to more Spanish music. I tried to learn more about my culture and where I came from for more than just my own curiosity, but to adapt things from a Guatemalan culture, and integrate them in my life. Of course, that didn't work, because I couldn't walk around wearing a huipil, or start speaking some Mayan dialect whenever I wanted. Not only because the only huipil I own is made for a three year old, or because I didn't know Spanish or any Mayan dialect, but because it didn't feel right (I also came to a realization at some point that not all Hispanic people speak Spanish, dance well, or listen to Spanish music in the first place. So, that helped a little, but still). There was a part of me that wished I was more 'Hispanic.' But, like I said, it didn't feel right. Why? Because I'm also way more American than Guatemalan, and I've grown up in a Western culture and society. I've been raised by white people for practically my entire life, and they are my family. They don't know Spanish, they don't listen to Spanish music. The name I was given doesn't sound like your typical Spanish name. So sometimes identifying myself as Hispanic was just odd, but I also wasn't going to say I'm a white American, although I may 'act' like it. It's like for my entire life I've been stuck between two worlds, one of which I have access to, and another which I don't. This is one issue I face on a daily basis, because I say I'm Hispanic, more than I say I'm American. Yes, I am a citizen of the United States of America, but I was born in Guatemala and my computer background is of a Guatemalan flag. I have a print-out of that flag on my bedroom door, along with a map of my country. I'm going to Guatemala to see my home country. But I live in America and I have for the past 17 years and some odd months. This is my home, too. It's a dilema. And sometimes I feel so caught in between, that adding my actual skin color to the mix makes it even more confusing for me.
To say you're 'color blind' is honestly one of the silliest things you could say. You can't see me and say you don't see that I'm brown. That's just dumb. I acknowledge the fact the I'm different, and my own family does too. They're not going to say, "Oh, my daughter/sister isn't brown. I don't see her color because she's my real daughter/sister even though we adopted her from Guatemala." That's just slightly ridiculous. And I don't care that we acknowledge I'm different because it's the truth. In fact, I love that I don't get sunburned while they have to worry more about sunscreen (not to say I love that they get sunburned... hopefully you get what I mean). I'm proud to be Guatemalan and to have brown skin. I'm not ashamed of it. Still, there are occasions where I wonder what it would be like if I were white.
I've always known the meaning of white privilege. Although, in my mind, I associated it with other people. For example, I have a professor who gets braids every summer. People ask if her hair is real, or if they can touch it. She's black. Now, a white, brown-haired girl walks around with a braid or whatever, and people don't go up and ask her if her hair is real, or if they can touch it (normally, this is a very generalized instance). That's white privilege and that's what I've associated it with... other people who aren't me. But yesterday (why it's taken me so long to realize this, I don't know), I've associated white privilege with my own personal surroundings. In certain instances, I've been pointed out as the only non-white person in a room full of white people. I've been used as an example for certain things based on my skin color and where I come from. White privilege for me in those moments is seeing the rest of my friends not have to be singled out because they're skin is a different color.
Now, if you're reading this and you think, "But Maggie, you seem totally fine being used as an example!" or "But Maggie, you always laugh about it!" it may appear to be true, but looks can be deceiving. You see, I have this tendency to joke about things that bother me or make me uncomfortable. I laugh things off so I don't think about them, or cause some kind of scene.
I try my hardest not to let these things bother me, because it just seems silly to get upset about. But it bothers me. Just like when people say, "I look nothing like my family, I must be adopted!" bothers the heck out of me, so do comments that single me out. Yes, my skin color is different, but I'm not! Yes, I'm Hispanic and I was born in Guatemala and lived there for eight months, but I've lived in the US for practically my entire life. I've lived in the same state for the past 15 and a half years. While my physical appearance may be different than the majority of the people I interact with, I'm actually no different. I'm not saying you can't acknowledge my skin color, I mean, I do. I know I'm brown! What I'm saying is that to single me out isn't necessary. To use me as an example of something all the time isn't necessary. It doesn't have to happen so often, because then it just gets pointed out all over again that I'm not in one world. I'm caught in between two that never feel like will cohabitate.
This post is to give people of glimpse of what it's like, at least in my life and my experiences on a daily basis.
This quote on the left is today's post-ly quote. This is my part of my story and this part is something that I think has been brewing inside of me for longer than I really thought. That's probably why it's so wordy and jumbled. BUT, here it is. And I don't want anyone to feel weird or guilty or whatever about anything regarding race and whatever else. I'm just here to inform. I know I'm not white and I just don't have to be singled out so much. And for a while I've just accepted that as my life. Some girl who has no idea to what culture she belongs to, and some girl who will never fit in because of that and her skin color. But today, I know that I can be American, I can be Hispanic, and I can stop avoiding talking about an issue of skin color that actually affects me. I can learn more about where I came from, and appreciate it more, and visit my home country. It'll always be weird to be a part of two places, but that's okay. And I'll always be a minority and that won't always work out for me, but I wouldn't change who I am.
Hopefully this all gives you some understanding of what it's like, at least for me.
As always, thanks for reading.
---Maggie
You are right, I might have said that I was 'color blind' with respect to you but your blog made me realize how those imprecise those words are. I had not thought that their imprecision could would feel 'wrong'. What I was saying was you are my daughter and in the hierarchy of things that is most important. The words 'color blind' make it sound like I was denying a piece of who you are which was never how I felt. You are my daughter and you are my friend both are above any other distinctions.
ReplyDeleteI really liked this post Maggie! Made me truly think. Love you! --Morgan
ReplyDeleteYou are right, I might have said that I was 'color blind' with respect to you but your blog made me realize how those imprecise those words are. I had not thought that their imprecision could would feel 'wrong'. What I was saying was you are my daughter and in the hierarchy of things that is most important. The words 'color blind' make it sound like I was denying a piece of who you are which was never how I felt. You are my daughter and you are my friend both are above any other distinctions.
ReplyDelete