My America

Being a U.S Latinx American citizen, I am always represented as an ethnic other. It feels like no matter what I do like obey the law, speak English in public, eat an American breakfast, or even joining the military stills limits me from acquiring the full American status. As a child of five in a single-parent home and growing up in the welfare system, I had a hard time with my identity as an American. I grew up in Linden, New Jersey and in the early 1990’s the demographics of the area where primarily White and Polish. Hardly did I encounter anyone that spoke Spanish or was of Latino heritage, expect in my household. I grew up in a Colombian household, primarily women; my mother, grandmother, and three sisters (my little brother came years later). I had no one to relate to, which alone created a lot of anxiety because the kids I went to school with had both parents. Meanwhile, my family had no father figure, and at times, my classmates would use the word “spic” as a way to make fun of me. They would ask me if I knew what it meant, and I would reply with a "no". In response, they would say that is what you are. This was my first encounter feeling like an ethnic other. I could not understand why I was not considered to be American like my classmates. Since I could not find identity within my surroundings, I turned to television to train myself into becoming an American. I remember watching a Honey Nut Cheerios commercial, with a white child eating breakfast; a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios with milk. On the side, there was scrambled eggs and bacon, and a glass of orange juice with a carton of Tropicana orange juice on top of the kitchen counter. After watching this commercial, I did my best to replicate this style of breakfast the following morning. I thought by doing this was a way of achieving that status of being an American. Little did I know that in the social world that I was part of, I was being told that I wasn't. As I grew older, I kind of ignored it and let my feelings become dormant to the fact that my social world did not see me as an American even though I did believe I was.

It wasn't until 2009, at the age of 24, that I joined the United States Army and began wearing the uniform where my social world considered me an American. However, it was only when I was deployed to Afghanistan from May 2011- May 2012, that I was called by the local population American, first and foremost as an identity. I was confused and based on what I experienced, I started to question what it is considered to be an American in the United States. Is American only white? Why did I have to travel to Afghanistan to be called an American? Did I not have the right to be considered an American in the United States? Was this based on my cultural practices? What it because I spoke Spanish in public? I was curious to find out what makes someone American. Unfortunately, these questions have always existed and have been faced by several individuals including my community, and around the country. I believe that studying the dynamics, and systems of why some are considered Americans while others are not, might not ever give me definitive answers, they will give me a language to describe the unjust world I and several members of my community are in; with the hope to create a new uniform like the one I was given in the United States Army.

Currently, I am acquiring an education in the Media, Culture, Communication Masters program at New York University ( My undergrad was completely here too). My objective at NYU is to not only gain knowledge but also assist me to enter a career where I can create a new uniform that helps change the definition of what American means in mainstream media and my social world.