The Roots

Jules Robinson

I am an immigrant. I came to the United States when I was six years old. Upon arriving in the States, I was placed in kindergarten. I was surrounded by children who did not speak my language and I did not speak theirs. I am grateful for the educators that worked alongside me to teach me the language. However, throughout this time I was kept apart from my peers. Later in the year, another Mexican immigrant joined our classroom and I ensured that she did not feel excluded the way I had. As time passed on and I learned the language, I made friends. By 3rd grade, I was proficient in both languages, moved to a different school with more bilingual students, and felt more welcome. I realized I was very detached from my culture. I would hear my friends talk about their family trips to Mexico, family gatherings during the holidays, and celebrating their culture. My family did not. The most exposure I had was listening to Mexican radio with my father when I accompanied him to job sites. I began to feel not "Mexican enough” and confused about my heritage. I decided to join the Ballet Folklorico team at my school to feel closer to my culture. These classes helped me connect music and storytelling. I attended bilingual classes throughout my elementary education.

As I got older, I experienced bullying from my peers. I continue to feel insecure about my culture. My family did not have family in the States to visit. We did not travel to Mexico often. I felt very lost, and I longed to fit in with my peers. I began to resent being an immigrant. I began to hide my Spanish and left the bilingual program when I transitioned into middle school. I turned to music to express myself. I would sit down with the lyrics, a dictionary, and a pen and paper. I began translating English songs into Spanish so that I would understand them better. As a result, I would learn to listen to more than just the surface meaning of a song. This repression of my cultural identity continued into high school. I tried to make friends with other Hispanic children but was pushed aside and told I was “too white” for them. I did not have a quinceanera and felt jealous when my classmates talked about theirs. I continued to struggle with my cultural identity.

Now that I am an adult, I reflect on my formative years and feel sad. I did not grow up practicing family traditions. We did not celebrate Mexican holidays, foods, or customs. I now have children of my own. I try to parent culturally. They are not fluent in Spanish, but I try to teach them some of the basics with the hopes of taking courses in the future. I tell them about Mexican holidays, and we participate in community events when available. My children visited Mexico and learned about their roots. It is imperative to me for my children to be aware of their culture and others.

We recently moved to Florida, and they are more exposed to other cultures. Unlike how I grew up, Caucasians are a minority at our school. My children are Caucasian and Hispanic and included in that minority. This has given them the opportunity to learn about other cultures. They are aware of the communication barriers associated with being an English language learner and are patient with their peers. We have begun to explore restaurants in our area that have a variety of foods. “Don’t yuck someone’s yum.” This is commonly said in my house when we explore new foods. My kids have tasted Cuban, Dominican, Haitian, and Guatemalan food.

I am proud of myself for changing my perception of my culture. I hope that my children can confidently develop their cultural identity and continue to pass these practices on to their own families when they are older.