Consider the topic of mestizaje, hybrid identities—reflect, share.

Mestizaje (n.) of mixed race

I don't need a book, podcast, or movie to tell me about being mixed race. 

Mixed race is how I identify. 

I have mentioned this in previous posts. Though I cannot control how others see me, I know that I am privileged. My skin tone says to others that I am privileged. It is something that I do not struggle with because I do not let other people's opinions or thoughts dictate my opinion of myself. That is not to say that I did not struggle when I was younger. "Are you adopted? Why didn't your real parents want you? Is she your nanny? Are you supposed to be with her? How do you know Spanish if you're white?" I heard it all growing up. 

And as I became an adult, the narrative didn't change, just what was said. "You'll never get it. You won't understand this, but...". And perhaps it is true. I won't have to deal with being racially profiled at my place of employment or when I am being pulled over on the highway. I won't get the extra stares walking into an electronic store or car dealership. I acknowledge my privilege from the perspective of race.

However, someone's oppression does not give them the right to oppress others. This is how systemic oppression continues.

I also acknowledge that I am on the receiving end of attempted oppression from within my Latino culture, including my Mexican-American family. If I walk into La Michoacana, I get the stares. I hear the whispers. There are certain parts of Dallas that I do not occupy for the same reason. My favorite though is when someone speaks Spanish deliberately to someone else in front of me as a way of excluding me and I speak up in response to what was said. Last month, at a family funeral (the deceased had just been lowered ten minutes earlier), some of the cousins congregated before parting ways. Here is a brief, real conversation from that day:

"D*@&  Guera, you could use some sun". 

He meant it as a put-down. My response could have been nasty.

"Are you profiling me? At Tia's funeral? Seriously?"

I do not know one side of my family. They did not approve of the union of my parents. They disowned one of my parents and therefore, do not acknowledge me.  I don't think about this side of my family, but I do wonder occasionally about the possibilities of being Swedish, Norwegian or Scottish. The part of my heritage that I don't know about. Am I oppressed by not knowing one side of my family? I do not feel as though a part of me is missing. 

I am the author of my life. And I know that this way of thinking is privileged.

I implore educators, authors, influencers, etc. to talk to us. Those of us who actually are mestizaje are the only one's who truly know what is means to be mestizaje. Do I use the term "hybrid identity" when labeling myself? No. Ask me why.

And that is my privilege.