by Maitri Pamo
When I was a child, my family was friends with another immigrant family. We had the same socio-economic status, same “starting point” in terms of opportunity within the dominant culture. We, the daughters, attended public schools in Washington DC and until sixth grade, we were mirror images of each other in terms of our progress towards adulthood. At that point, a fork presented itself, embodied by a teacher who suggested that I escape the local, notorious, underfunded, public “junior high” and apply to a private school outside of the city. I applied and was accepted, scholarship included. I was excited and shared the news with my friend. I encouraged her to apply the next school year. She sneered at the thought. “Yo no quiero ser blanca,” she told me.
This attitude was echoed by her parents who warned mine of what would happen to me in such a school. There were admonitions that I would become “creida,” lose my Latina identity, and get all sorts of false hopes. They were “concerned” about my future. There were concerns, to be sure. I was not prepared or equipped to deal with the cultural isolation of being the only Latina in the “upper school” not to mention the sense of social discomfort at the obvious disparity in economic status between me and my classmates.
Greater still were the obstacles to my relationships with other Latinos who told me that I was “stuck up,” a “traitor,” a “wannabe.” I wanted an education. I was willing to endure the discomfort of feeling socially awkward to gain a place on the path to college. I did not understand how that desire translated into my wanting to become something I was not. What I wanted was to reach the full potential of what I could become.
The self constricting attitude is puzzling and disappointing. Inherently, it states that Latinos have a specified place in society, a role that is defined by class and a perception of our limitations within the larger U.S. culture. For some, a person breaking out of the accepted mold becomes problematic, perhaps due to an unrealized fear that the person will fail and it will reflect on all of us. Perhaps because of a subconscious inferiority complex that forges a “hater” mentality. Whatever the etiology, it is a misguided and self defeating image.
Of course, not all Latinos react this way. There is, in my experience, a clear bias towards this attitude by some among our community who are less educated and not coincidentally, belong to a so called “lower socio-economic class.” It is a myopic mindset that seeks to codify a type of self imposed caste system; a reversed, internalized racism that dictates that any attempt to better oneself must indicate that one is trying to become an emulator of a different race, the “rightful” inheritors of educational and empowering opportunities. I rejected the notion that I needed to be a certain way to have “street cred.” True credibility comes from self empowerment.
Staff writer, Maitri Pamo.
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Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are solely those of
the author and should not be understood to be shared by Being Latino, Inc.
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self-empowerment baby!
I can only speak to part of this since I’m a man but I can very much attest to cries of “pocho” as I tried to excel in junior high & high school. Even now as an adult, I still get that online every now and again. I can’t pinpoint the exact nature of our own people doing this to one another but it has to stop. “Street cred” is no different than being the popular kid in school – once you leave campus, no one is going to care. Those who break through, get a college education and make something of themselves realize this early on. This idea needs to be preached where it matters most – in low-income neighborhoods where this mentality is prevalent.
Speaking from a latino male’s POV. I love this , its the story of my life.
Amen, hermana! Let us teach our children that “white” people DO NOT HAVE A MONOPOLY on intelligence!
How true, and how sad. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been called a good Latina or not a real Latina because I’m educated and consciously created a path from the lower class to the middle class.
I’m only 15. I just had my qunice this summer. Unfortunetly, most of my guests who attended my quince were my white friends, I’m kind of an out-cast in the Latino part of my high school. (I’m writing from Chicago.) I mostly hangout with whites, but I really wish I could have more Latina friends who would understand my culture better. I only have one Latina friend. And she’s just like me, we odn’t talk much though. And I’ll NEVER lose sight of who I am. I am 100% Mexicana (Veracruz) and darn proud of it. I strive and live for excellence in school. Freshman year, all A’s and GPA above 4 the whole time. I know I wrote a stream of conciousness, but it feels good to know I’m not the only Latina girl who lives/ed like this. Thank you for writing this story, Maitri. It means a lot.
Great to hear from you, Hayley! Stay focused and know that you are not the only one. I didn’t really find a big group of Latino friends until college. It’s okay. Maitri, this article was amazing!! I can completely relate. Thank you for writing this.