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Many Americans associate ethnic foods with those that are available at local grocery store chains and Americanized ethnic restaurants. The most visible ethnic foods in grocery stores are Asian and Mexican foods. Common food items such as refried beans, soy sauce, tortillas, sesame seed oil, water chestnuts, and salsa limit Americans perspective of cultural foods and ingredients. A visit to a Latino grocery store was an eye-opening experience for me. Supermercado El Rancho stocks common foods that I am familiar with and many that I did not know even existed.
This autobiographical essay will define my experience as a Dominican immigrant living in New York City. Being an American citizen with a Dominican background are extremely relevant to the process of political socialization. My family background is founded on the principles of democratic values, which taught to me by my mother and father. In New York City, I found a “melting pot” of different immigrants that allowed me to feel more accepted as a Dominican living in the United States. More so, these aspects of the socialization process provided a foundation for my belief in democratic values throughout my life.
As a member of a working class community, my life has been a struggle between resources and opportunities available for me. Having sparse resources has lead me to the constant push of working towards the things I’ve achieved. Social identities have become a guidance for my future goals and abilities. Being working class Latina, raised in a Catholic family has created many barriers and pathways into the future I wish to hold. Furthermore, taking all the social identities I have grew into have become the bases for my educational goals and identity.
From as early as I could remember I noticed I was not like the others kids. I had an interest for things most kids would not be interested in. I liked interacting with people, knowing about people and their life stories; I wanted to help in anyway that I could when I would hear everyone’s problems. I thought outside the box throughout my whole childhood and I wanted to make the most out of my knowledge. I told myself that I was going to dedicate my life to helping my community.
I’m able to resonate with a plethora of things, yet the thing I consider my identity is I’m an adopted, Haitian immigrant. I was born in Haiti in 1998, in a small village in Thomazeau, I moved to Croix-des- Bouquets right after my birth and I lived there until I was 9 years old. My family's financial situation was adequate. My mom was always able to find a way to make ends meet. This cause our neighbor to be envious of us.
I am very proud of my Hispanic heritage. Even though, I am an United States citizen, I am always going to belong to my Hispanic backgrounds. There are so many reasons that I am proud to be Guatemalan and American that I could write a whole book about it. However, I regularly participate in my Hispanic culture and community through my family, traditions, and by being bilingual.
The concept of the American Dream connects with each individual different, but most would agree that it is the ability to live the way you desire and the freedom to choose your own route. The American Dream is about the freedom to obtain whatever you wish if you are clever and work hard enough. The reason why people from different countries come to America is to escape an unfair class system, to search for better opportunities for their families, and to live in freedom and security provided by the police and military. The American Dream for jihad radicalists in The Looming Tower is to establish an Islamic state worldwide. On the other hand, the Latino community wants to work hard, provide for their family, and live in peace.
Over the Border Every year my family decides what to do for the holidays and where to go. Most of the time I have no say in it because my uncles insist on visiting or they invite us over. It doesn’t help that all of my family lives in Texas, California, and Mexico. This year has been the first time that we have spent Christmas and New Years here at home with just my family in a long time. Last year we took a long trip to Chihuahua, Mexico which is the biggest part/state of Mexico where my mother is from.
We were on our way to New Mexico to visit my grandparents. At this time, I lived in Texas so it was not that far and they lived by the state line of Texas, the North West side of Texas. It always took us about four hours to get there but this trip was a little different. We were in tornado season so you know where this is going it could have been like two and a half hours. Then we hear on the radio a tornado alert luckily there was a rest point with a gas station so we stopped and went inside I was only like nine years old but remember this day.
I used to have this grudges in my heart when everything go hard that would made me wanted to blame my parent. But I can’t because I was not raise to think that way. When I come to America, I was eleven years old and no one asked me if I wanted to come it just happen in a second. I was in a cold place with extended family that I never met before and that one person who raise me and made me feel secure was still back in the country. I had to lived months without her and next thing you know I adapted and convince myself they are doing this because the wanted the best for me.
Shuffling through the grocery store, I hastily pushed my shopping cart along, crossing items off a crumpled list. After eyeing up the prices, I scribbled a line through my mother’s elegant cursive font. I smile at her misspellings of certain foods, despite her previously asking me to correct her. This goes on for some time. I have my items rung up and exchange pleasantries with the cashier, and carry on with my day.
Growing up as a first-generation Mexican American was a huge advantage for me in that it allowed me to grow up in a culturally diverse community. I learned how to work well with people of all backgrounds and empathize with people from all walks of life. However, while being the first in my family to go to college was a momentous accomplishment, the lack of instruction and guidance lead me to commit many mistakes that could have been easily avoided during my first years at college. My timidity and downright arrogance lead me to believe that I did not need anyone’s assistance and thus I found myself denial that there was a problem in terms of my grades during my first semesters. I have since addressed this issue and have worked diligently to
I believe the term, hispanic, itself does not define who I am. I define who I am and who I want to become. However, I do come from a Mexican heritage. Coming from a Mexican heritage has influenced and deeply impacted my life. My heritage has taught me a lot.
I identify as a Latina. I have always considered myself as a Latina, but throughout time, I believe that I have assimilated more into a white individual because of the privilege that I hold and because I have lived in the US most of my life. I have received mostly negative messages from those who are not from my ethnicity. My peers and I were told we wouldn’t graduate high school and be laborers for the rest of our lives. With the current politics, I believe that this still holds true where some people still hold stereotypes and give oppressing messages to Latinos.
Why do some people struggle more than others? A question that I have wondered most of my life. As a child, I was raised in a Puerto Rican household while attending predominantly white catholic schools. My parents intentionally and directly tried to remove all barriers to my success. From my white-sounding name, catholic schools, to accent training my parents immersed me in a culture much different than our Puerto-Rican heritage.
