My entire life, I’ve been told I was ‘white passing.’ That my sister and I lucked out because we’re so fair-skinned (due to our Spaniard ancestors), but I always envied the beautifully brown skin my youngest sibling was gifted with. Now I’m scared for them to leave the house. Now I’m scared to speak Spanish or even to continue teaching my own daughters Spanish because of the ICE discrimination. Something I’ve been telling them for years: we needed to practice and work on so that we could gain a better understanding of our roots and culture, and connect with our beautiful family in Mexico.
This September I wanted to start a new tradition with my family to celebrate Mexican Independence Day (which is on September 16th), but now that the Supreme Court has ruled that ICE can essentially racially profile Hispanic, Latinos, Chicanos, based on the color of our skin, how we present, or even if they overhear us speak Spanish, I’m scared to start these new traditions to celebrate our culture.
I’m scared that I’m no longer ‘white passing’ enough. I get terrified when I see someone staring at me just a little too long or overhearing me say ‘Mande?’ to my children, a reflex I’ve grown accustomed to. For years, I’ve been scared because my daughters were growing up with fewer rights than I had at their age because they’re girls. Now I have to be scared that ICE can whisk their mom away just because of my heritage.
Before you begin to berate me with sayings of “Well, come here legally.” I am legal. My mother is from Chicago. My father, who is Mexican, became a U.S. citizen after nights of studying hard, of me quizzing him, of hearing him recite the Pledge of Allegiance. But that’s besides the point because I personally do not care about someone’s ‘status,’ what I care about is whether or not they are a kind person. I care if they just want to provide for their family and live a life filled with joy and excitement, just like I do. I care about them sharing their traditions, stories, gifts, and history.
But now I feel like we’re going to hear all of these in whispered tones. We’re going back to a time when our parents and grandparents told us to ‘Stop speaking Spanish, you need to be more American,’ after we’ve worked so hard to reclaim our roots, to be proud of who we are. It’s come to the point where I’m wondering if I need to tell my daughters to stop proudly saying they’re half Mexican and just tell folks that they were born in Texas and moved to Indiana.
I hate the thought of telling them to stop sharing something about themselves that makes them so beautiful and unique, but if the wrong person were to overhear it, then what? Would ICE come?
When I’m done crying today, I’m going to pull myself together. I’m going to remind myself that I come from a long line of strong and fierce men and women who would not allow others to hold them back. I’m going to remind myself that my heritage and culture are part of who I am. But for right now, I’m going to cry because for right now, I’m going to have to hide a little bit of myself when I go out into the world, at least until the right people, kind people, are back in power.
