Third Culture

“Where are you from?” is a question I detest. I have an identity crisis just before answering. Who do I identify with more? My father’s side, my mother’s side, or where I was born.

My father is Mexican, my mother is Salvadoran, and I was born in the United States. The first culture I was exposed to was my parents’ cultures. My parents migrated to the United States to escape the political and economic turmoil of their countries. They moved and settled in the United States for a better and more stable life. This is where I was born. The United States is the second culture. The place where life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, and free speech is valued. The third culture is the combination of all. The mixture of being Mexican, Salvadoran and American.

Growing up I attended a bilingual school. All subjects were to be taught in Spanish and English. However, Spanish was the primary language for all subjects. English was not taught as often as I would have liked. Spanish was my primary language. It was spoken, written, and read at home. Although my parents did not receive a diploma they were able to provide me with a helping hand. It was not until I attended a different school that trouble began.

I was exposed to a different environment in school. As I looked around, no one looked like me. There was no one with my curly hair, my skin color, my language. I felt like an outsider. The teachers assumed that I had traveled from El Salvador or Mexico because of the little English I knew. Teachers would tell my parents, this is America where only English should be taught and learned. I was frustrated and confused. I became the ESL student, the Mexican-Salvadoran, the Spanish and brown girl.

As I grew up, I was singled out for being an ESL student, Mexican-Salvadoran, brown and American. In America, because of the stereotypes, people treated me differently and looked at me differently. Since I was exposed to a new environment teachers would pronounce my name differently, something I did not like and tried to change. But when I corrected them they would tell me I was wrong. How could I be wrong when it was my name! When I received an award or certificate in school, teachers and parents would make me feel like it was wrong. Teachers would constantly say, “That class is not for you” or “This class will be too difficult for you”, undermining my intelligence.

Growing up in the United States being Mexican and Salvadoran is difficult, but I embrace who I am. Instead of being stripped of the Mexican and Salvadoran in me, I am proud to embrace and represent it. Growing up between cultures is tough until you realize it’s a creative blessing. Here in the United States I stand up for my culture, my family, and myself.