Odd One Out

When my father proposed to my mother, she only agreed to marriage on the terms that when they had kids, she would stay at home with them for at least the first three years of their lives to fully immerse them in the Spanish language and Mexican culture. As a result, my brother and I grew up speaking solely Spanish with my mother and English with my father. Because we were raised mostly in America, my mother never wanted us to lose sight of our heritage. 

Growing up in Chattanooga, a predominantly-white southern town, I was bound to face racism from a very early age. I had golden brown skin as a child and spoke with a slight accent. I have an American father and a Mexican mother and was fluent in both languages by the time I was three, so I never felt ostracized from my peers. In the beginning of my childhood, kids were never the problem-- adults were. 

Kids aren't born racist. My knowledge of another language was fascinating to them and my friends loved telling me that they had learned to count to ten in Spanish. Some adults, however, didn't share the same appreciation. My parents often faced judgmental questions from adults wondering why they would raise me speaking Spanish when no one else around us spoke it. So, after being surrounded by only white kids my entire childhood, I couldn't contain my excitement when another Mexican kid enrolled in my school.

When Melina joined my third grade class, I finally saw someone who looked like me. After learning that she spoke Spanish, it became our chosen language of communication. Spanish came much easier for both of us, so speaking it with each other was our natural instinct. Speaking in our native tongue was never a problem until we reached the fourth grade. 

As Melina and I were carrying out a normal conversation at the lunch table, we saw another student glaring at us. Eventually, she got up from the table and ran over to our teacher. A few minutes later, our teacher told us to pack our lunch and come with her to the classroom. She proceeded to ask us why we were speaking badly about another student. Melina and I looked at each other, confused as to what she was talking about. We told her we weren't speaking badly about anybody. She asked us what we were speaking about, and we explained we were just talking about our plans for after school. Our teacher glared right into my eyes and said something I will never forget:

"We are in America. We speak English here. You are not allowed to speak Spanish at this school."

Although I had always been an outspoken child, I froze and couldn't say a word. Instead, I cried to my enraged mother, who had heard those same words over and over since the day she moved to America. Although knowing my mother, she definitely brought it up with the principal, it didn't change the impact of the words my teacher had spoken. From then on out, Melina and I only spoke Spanish through whispers when our teachers and peers couldn't hear us. 

To this day, I still face both micro-aggressions and blatant racism. From ignorant comments like "I'm going to miss you when you get deported", to ridiculous remarks like "you look exotic", I've gotten used to just about all of them. Sometimes there is no changing people's views that are set in stone. However, I have learned to both stand up for myself and educate others on the power of their words. I am a proud Mexican woman and will never let anyone take my culture away from me.

Strike Out,

Written by: Emma Sofia Griffin

Edited by: Jane Dodge

Graphic by: Abby Randolph