“Me estoy sacrificando para que seas alguien en la vida y que no estés sufriendo como yo”. Wise words from my mother or from any mother really who has had it hard in their lives. As a child, she would constantly drill these words into my head about how she sacrifices herself so I can be successful someday. I always used to question what she meant by this. In the poem, Latino-Americanos: The Children of an Oscuro Pasado ​ by Xochitl Morales, the speaker expresses the values of being Latin American and how that has shaped her. However,  as a latin-american, my ethnic identity is one of the factors that define me and for most of my life I have had trouble identifying with it and seeing its true values.

Being an hispanic female I would always have certain responsibilities to perform. By the age of 8 my mom would teach me how to cook, do laundry, and clean which I knew was her way of teaching me to be a “good wife” but she would simply say these are basic things I need to learn to live on my own. I remember once I reached my preteen years, during one summer, she would wake me up at 7am or even earlier to help her cook breakfast for the family. I would hate this especially since it was summer and while other kids went out and had fun, I would be stuck inside doing these chores. I used to cry to mom to let me sleep longer but all she would do is scream at me and say how when she was in Ecuador at the age of 6 she would wake up early to cook everyone’s meal and clean the house. This was all confusing at the time since I thought she wanted better things for me. Times like these provoked me to hate my ethnic background and ask “why did I have to be ecuadorian”. Similarly as the speaker, she would learn to reject her first language, spanish, and be proud to call herself “American over Mexican”(11).

When my brother turned eight, I never really saw my mom make an effort to teach him these basic things which I then realized was for the reason I expected it to be all along. One day, probably out of jealousy, I reproched my mom and asked “why don’t you make Jefferson (my brother) cook instead of me” and she responded “it’s because he’s a guy”.  But of course being his big sister I would still make him help me do it anyways. At times when I used to refuse doing certain chores my mother would scold at me and say “you think your husband is gonna cook for you and serve you in bed”. During this period in my life I began to question what my ethnicity really represents, thinking that it only encourages girls to be “good wives”.

As I got older, I began to ignore when my mom used to say things about how my husband won’t like a wife that does this or doesn’t do that. In my head I would think, if my husband doesn’t bring me food in bed then I don’t want him. Of course now I know my mom meant no harm and by no means wanted me to settle as a housewife. She wanted me and still wants me to develop a career so I won’t have to be dependent on a man. I realized that her viewpoint on this grew from her personal experiences in Ecuador, where most are “machistas” and believe that men are superior to women, and thus was just trying to prepare me for her kind of reality.

Then came high school. For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to be a physician. I remember as a child, when teachers or any adult would ask me what I wanted to be when I grow up I would always say doctor but at that time it was probably because I heard my peers say it or I was just fascinated with the the idea of it. To this day I am still fascinated with the idea of it, it is just that now it’s for a greater reason. However, this dream was about to be thrown away due to my doubt and insecurities dealing with being hispanic. I had the grades, the motivation but for some reason I didn’t think ill make it for that career. I began to surrender myself to the stereotypes and feel as if I was doing too much for an “ecuadorian female”.

I am the daughter of immigrant parents who have never walked passed college doors. I am actually the first in my family here in the United States, to go to college. I thought, “ who am I kidding, I will never make it, maybe I should be a nurse instead”. I discouraged myself because of my race and thought “how many hispanic doctors do you actually see in the O.R.”. Now that I realize it, it was pretty ignorant of myself to think this. I was antagonizing myself for my race which should not be the case because it’s mostly why I have the strength and motivation to strive as high. I should be proud of my roots and not let that discourage me because in reality my race is not a discouragement but an encouragement. I am working hard for my family and for every other hispanic who have been discouraged because “we wear their legacies on our shoulders with pride/And we do not lose ourselves to broken perceptions” (35-36). I am working hard to prove that I am not just another little hispanic dreaming the impossible.

Throughout the years, my ethnic identity has defined me. I used to think it was for the worst but now I realize it was for the best. The speaker voices how “we inherited the strength” and we have inherited the passion” (24-25). I am who I am today because of my race and I am proud of it. It has given me strength and dedication in my personal and educational growth. Which I once thought was a hardship with my mother as a child has actually led to my maturity and has helped me in the long run. As the speaker says “por que somos Latino-Americanos and we will not be forgotten”(39-40).

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