Angelica Christina Lopez, when skimming through a list of names, one would think, WOW, now that’s a typical tongue-rolling Mexican name. But once that name is placed with the individual another thought comes into play, a more confused, “is she mixed or not” thought races one’s mind. My name is Angelica Christina Lopez, I consider myself a Mexican American, but when asked “what part of Mexico are you from”, I hesitate. Both grandmothers and one grandfather were born in a small Texas town called Uvalde; I pronounce it “YouValdee”, not “OOvalde”. Granted it could be considered a border town, but that’s beside the point. My parents were born and raised there as well. Growing up I had this long Latino name that seemed to be the only thing I could pronounce in the language I was supposed to be speaking. For the sake of better job opportunities, my parents moved to Houston where the culture shock hit them and my home began.
Angela Cristina Lopez. Al leer esto en una lista de nombres, uno pensaría WOW! Este es un típico nombre Mexicano que parece trabalenguas. Pero una vez que el nombre se asocia a la persona, otro pensamiento, más confuso, cruza por la mente: es de raza mixta, o no? Mi nombre es Angelica Christina Lopez y yo me considero Mexicano-americana, pero cuando me preguntan “de qué parte de México eres”, titubeo. Mis dos abuelas y uno de mis abuelos nacieron en un pequeño pueblo de Texas que se llama Uvalde; yo lo pronuncio “You Valdee”, no “OOvalde”. Es cierto que podría considerarse un pueblo fronterizo, pero eso es en realidad irrelevante. Mis padres también nacieron y crecieron ahí. Durante mi niñez, yo tenía este larguísimo nombre latino que me parecía ser lo único que podía pronunciar en el idioma que se suponía que yo hablaba. En busca de mejores oportunidades de empleo, mis padres se mudaron a Houston, donde resintieron el choque de las culturas e inició mi hogar.
Houston is a melting pot of various races and ethnicities. If I were to have grown up in Uvalde I would have had two types of friends, White and Hispanic. Instead my first best friend was an African American girl named Desiree. We were three and both very unaware of each other’s skin tones. Coming from a small TX town, Houston became too dangerous for my parents, and they decided to move to Rosenberg. I never saw Desiree again. At the age of five I had two new best friends, a black boy named Terrance and a white boy name Cuyler; we always had a blast. It wasn’t until Junior High that I noticed how different we all were. As we get into our teen years, school is no longer a place where we all play together, work together, learn together; instead, clicks are formed, social pressures are enhanced and fitting in is all that matters. In my school there were various “clicks”, I couldn’t really say I fell into one specifically because from what I was told, I wasn’t “Mexican” enough, I wasn’t “White” enough, I wasn’t “hood” enough, I wasn’t “preppy” enough, and so on. Where did I fit in? One would think coming from a family of Mexican descent I would have had the cultural characteristics instilled in me. Was it laziness on my part or was it a new cultural barrier that had developed amongst “my kind”?
High school was when I struggled to place myself into one category. At this point my best friends were all Latino, but I still managed to have ties and friendships with various individuals in various “clicks”. I found myself grasping and appreciating my culture more and more. Participating and attending all the traditional customs my culture is known for I began to find my place. While reading about the Latino movement in history class one day the term “Chicano” was introduced into my vocabulary. “Chicano” was a term originally used by, and reference to U.S. citizens of Mexican descent. FINALLY, I had found a way to describe who I was, what sub category I belonged to, what “click” I could be placed in. It’s amazing how different one specific culture can have so many variations and dynamics. I have come to the realization that there is no need to feel so lost, but rather embrace the fact that I can consider myself an American who is 4th generation Mexican. When asked “what part of Mexico are you from?”, I no longer hesitate, but explain who I am as an individual. I now know exactly where I fit in…I’m a member of a melting pot of groups, and have assimilated to the customs and traditions of various cultures as well as my own roots. The need and desire of having a permanent cultural identity has slowly diminished.
The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of Angelica Lopez.
Angelica is a fighter for keeping family bonds and pursuing the “American Dream”. Born in Houston, but raised in Rosenberg, TX, she graduated from Texas A&M University and moved to San Antonio to pursue a career. Sticking to what she does best, she has pursued a career in public relations, where getting in the mix and meeting diverse crowds are only at her finger tips.
Houston es un crisol de diversas razas y etnias. De haber yo crecido en Uvalde, habría tenido dos tipos de amigos, blancos e hispanos. En vez de ello, mi primera mejor amiga fue una niña afro-americana llamada Desiree. Teníamos tres años y ninguna de las dos notaba el tono de la piel de la otra. Provenientes de un pequeño pueblito Texano, Houston parecía demasiado peligroso para mis padres y decidieron mudarse a Rosenberg. Jamás volví a ver a Desiree. A la edad de cinco años, yo tenía dos nuevos mejores amigos, un niño negro que se llamaba Terrance y un niño blanco llamado Cuyler; nos divertíamos en grande. No fue sino hasta la secundaria que pude advertir cuán diferentes éramos todos. A medida que nos adentramos en la adolescencia, la escuela ya no es un sitio donde todos jugamos juntos, trabajamos juntos, aprendemos juntos; en vez de ello, se forman grupos, se incrementan las presiones sociales y lo único que importa es encajar. En mi escuela había varios grupos, yo no podría decir que caía en ninguno específico porque por lo que me decían, yo no era suficientemente “Mexicana”, ni era suficientemente “blanca”, ni era suficientemente “barrios bajos” ni suficientemente “popis”, etc., etc. Donde encajaba? Se podría pensar que proviniendo de una familia de ascendencia Mexicana, me habrían inculcado las características culturales. Era flojera de mi parte, o era que se había desarrollado una nueva barra cultural en contra de “mi clase”?
En la preparatoria tuve que luchar por colocarme en una categoría. En ese momento mis mejores amigos eran todos latinos, pero yo aún me la arreglaba para tener lazos y amistades con diversos individuos de diversos “grupos”. Me encontré de pronto apreciando mi cultura y aferrándome a ella cada vez más. Al asistir a, y participar en todas las costumbres de mi cultura, empecé a encontrar mi lugar. Un día, al leer acerca del movimiento latino en la clase de historia, me topé por primera vez con el término “Chicano”. “Chicano” era un término originalmente utilizado por, y en referencia a los ciudadanos americanos de ascendencia Mexicana. POR FIN, había encontrado una forma de describir lo que yo era, la subespecie a la que pertenecía, el “grupo” donde debía colocarme. Es sorprendente la forma en que una cultura específica puede tener tantas variaciones y dinámicas. He llegado a comprender que no hay necesidad de sentirse perdido, sino aprovechar el hecho que puedo considerarme una americana, y Mexicana de cuarta generación. Cuándo me preguntan “de qué parte de México eres?” ya no titubeo, sino que explico quien soy yo como individuo. Ahora sé exactamente donde encajo. . . .soy integrante de un crisol de grupos, y he asimilado las costumbres y tradiciones de varias culturas así como de mis propias raíces. La necesidad y el deseo de contar con una identidad cultural permanente se ha ido poco a poco desvaneciendo.
Las opiniones expresadas en este comentario son únicamente las de Angelica Lopez.
Angelica lucha por conservar los lazos familiares y buscar el “Sueño Americano”. Nacida en Houston, pasó su infancia en Rosenberg, TX, se graduó de la Universidad Texas A & M y se mudó a San Antonio para hacer su carrera. Fiel a lo que hace mejor, ella ha hecho carrera en relaciones públicas, donde es posible integrarse a la mezcla y conocer multitudes diversas.
January 4th, 2010 at 10:12 pm
That sucks when you get generalized without people know who you are or where you come from. I hate it when people make assumptions like that. This country has changed in so many ways, and you are proof of what this country is going through. We are changing the face of America as well as becoming a new form of ethnicity, not one of countries or borders, but of a mixture of cultures and colors. Thank you for this very interesting column.
January 5th, 2010 at 4:39 am
Very interesting… I too have struggled in my youth with generalizations and questioning of the authenticity of my ethnicity. I am glad to know that so many of us are coming to the realization that we are the new American ethnicity. Muchas Gracias!
January 5th, 2010 at 4:57 am
It’s very refreshing to hear a story so similar to my own. Even though my father is a Mexican immigrant and I have always spoken Spanish fluently, I had the same problem as being categorized as “too white” for the other Mexican American kids at school because I didn’t dress or speak a certain way. While I don’t necessarily like the term “Chicano” because of its overly politicized connotation, I can respect that you feel like you’ve found your place after not knowing for so long. Thank you for sharing your story.
January 5th, 2010 at 11:27 am
Well written column on what I believe pinpoints what recent Mexican/American generations have endured while growing up here in the U.S. I can relate to alot of the things you endured while growing up and I know many family and friends that went through the same. However, I believe this is what will make us stronger and help us teach generations to come the true value of what it means to be proud of our heritage.
January 8th, 2010 at 9:56 pm
Great piece. Very honest and insightful. Thanks for sharing.
January 10th, 2010 at 10:13 am
I would have to agree with Miss Lopez. Unfortunetly we have to all be placed into a category. You would think by 2010 race/ethnicity or even sexual preference wouldn’t create a barrier which divides people into social clicks. Sometimes we need to put our differences aside and not let them control who we associate with. By not doing this we may loose out on possible friends who can impact our lives in a positive way. All I can say is an open mind is the way to go.
January 18th, 2010 at 12:06 am
Great job Angelica. You bring up a very valid concern here and share similar experiences with many people such as myself, who don’t succumb to the stereotypes of who we are “supposed” to be. Stay true to who you are. The cool thing is that those who can see beyond racial and ethnic constructs can thrive in your circle.