I'm Mexican and Irish

Written By: Rachel Classen

Which box is checked on a standardized test when your mother is one ethnicity and your father is another? When I started at my current job, I met with the human resources (HR) person to fill out the appropriate paperwork. I came to the paper that directed me to check an ethnicity box. I ignored the “only-check-one-box mandate” and put a check in Hispanic and one in Caucasian. I handed it back to the HR person ready for my next form. She scrutinized the paper I just handed her, and said, “Oh I’m sorry, but you can only check one box. Just check the box you think you are ‘more’ of.”

“Well, I’m both, fifty-fifty; I’m not more of one than the other,” I responded.

“I know it’s hard,” she tried to persuade me with an overdone tone of sympathy in her voice, “but you can really only check one.”

Unfortunately, this incident epitomizes the way people react to my ethnicity. Most people seem to want me to fit into a box, but ironically, it usually isn’t the box they are in, I am supposed to be in the other one. When someone asks me, “what am I, I respond, “I’m half Mexican and half Irish.” Typically, they follow up with, “Do you speak Spanish?” When I tell them I don’t, I get answers like, “Oh, so you’re not a “real” Mexican?” or “You’re just white-washed then huh?”

And of course, this goes the other way too. I was talking to one of my classmates in college and he asked, “So, when you applied, you applied as Hispanic? I wish I could have done that, they have to meet a quota you know,” implying that it was easier for me to be accepted into our school than it was for him.

Or even harsher, a white male I was arguing with, called me a “spic” and then degraded me in Spanish, taking advantage of the fact that I was Mexican, but couldn’t even speak my native language. The confrontation made me feel small and angry that I was never given the opportunity to know my heritage, learn my mother’s customs, or speak her language.

But my mother had her reasons. She had a hard childhood. Her parents died when she was young and she was raised by first her white step-mother and then a number of other relatives for different periods of time. She moved over 15 times and lived in twelve different states before she was 18 years old. When she reached adulthood, she set fire to her past, letting it burn, eradicating the weeds so that she could start over and let her love grow freely for what she had then, three small children and a husband. Unfortunately, when she did that, she also burnt any of the good memories that may have been there to pass on to my brothers and me. In my 24 years, my mom has only spoken of her childhood and her family a handful of times.

That’s how I lost my Mexican roots. That’s why it stings every time a Hispanic person tells me “I’m not a real Hispanic,” and every time a white person tells me, “I’ve got it easy, or I’m not worthy.” I can still feel my heritage though, in a way that is hard for other people to understand. I may not speak the language, and I may not know much about the customs of Mexicans, but I know that my grandparents and their parents and brothers and sisters lived in Mexico, and felt all of the joy and sorrows that came from that land. I know that my family lineage runs deep into Mexico’s past. I am a decedent of the Aztecs; my mom has an estranged sister who held on to her past and researched our family tree. But more than anything, my heritage is kept within me. I have my ancestor’s blood, I have their genes, and because of that I share their physical traits, I share parts of their personality, and parts of their psyche.

Living in a constant tug-of-war; not being white enough and not being Mexican enough while society wants me to fit into one box is challenging. So I say to those of you, who are lucky enough to still celebrate your native customs and still speak your native language, do not be quick to label those who do not. There is a story behind every person. Your heritage, your customs, and your culture are all beautiful things, regardless of what that heritage is or the combination of heritages. Being a part of a culture and celebrating those accompanying customs creates a community where bonds are formed and friendships are forged. Approach those who may have lost touch with their roots with open arms, for our hearts are in the same place.