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#out of habit really. told him ''well i'm half mexican or indigenous too... but i mean it's not like i'm really latin.'' and he was like.
fairyzar
·
1 year
Text
the older i get the more confused i become in regards to my identity.
#z escribe
#i have been aware that i was adopted from a young age. heck i knew before my mom told me because i watched the health channel
#and i rmbr they showed a skin color chart and i pieced together...two white parents don't equal a brown kid
#and i thought that the colorblind mindset was a proper one to be brought up with. obviously not as i experienced racism in elementary.
#and was extremely confused why 'other' white kids didn't see me as white either...well no shit you're not white baby aza
#and i went through a radical phase during middle school. hating all white people. but then my mom's white fragility deterred me from that
#as any time i would voice my anger she would... quite literally in tears... try to reason with me and be like ''but i'm white people...
#do you hate me?'' to which i would always have to soothe her. and honestly i have become comfortable in identifying with mixed.
#it is a comfortable identity because i have grown up without any specific culture (outside of american. which. how does one even begin to
#define the complexities of such an identity... the way that american as a nationality transcends as it becomes a civil religion.)
#anyways. i have been thinking about a guy at a party and our conversations. and how we got to our identities and i instantly...
#out of habit really. told him ''well i'm half mexican or indigenous too... but i mean it's not like i'm really latin.'' and he was like.
#''no azaria. you are. don't diminish yourself and your ancestors just because you weren't able to grow up around that culture''
#his comment made me think about my identity once again after a long time of not wondering what it means to be Me.
#and i recently submitted a paper for an internship. and god. i was reading it to my white mom. and after i read the concluding paragraph
#she asked me to read it again. to which i did. and then after a pause she sighed and said i was being ''too angry''
#and when i asked her to elaborate she simply said ''well it makes it sound as if white people are evil''
#mind you. my application paper is about working at a museum for african american/black art preservation. like. art history is so deeply
#saturated with colonialism and racism??? and she just chose to ignore that point of my paper and focus on me critiquing her fellow white
#people. and to categorize me as the 'angry black person' are you Fucking kidding me. but then even with that she was like.
#''i just don't get why you're so angry. you're not even black. i mean. you don't look black at all. you look mexican''
#she constantly wants my identity to be simple. to be watered down. to be digestible.
#i am the product of a biracial mother and fully latin/indigenous father. that is the truth of my identity. i will NEVER be perceived as
#white.
#but after that i just felt so incredibly shitty and called my sister and she told me what our mom said to her that day too. and i said
#something along the lines of ''sometimes i feel as if mom thinks we owe her for adopting us.'' and my sister agreed.
#it broke me. it really did. to know that i am not being overdramatic in my thoughts. to know that i am not simply being ungrateful.
#my sister says that she copes with it by reasoning that our parents are born in the 40s and times were a lot different then. but it is hard
#for me to constantly excuse their racism and ignorance towards my identity. both regarding my queerness and ethnicity.
#i am so tired. so so tired.
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