Ever since I was a child I would get the same dumb question, "What are you?" It didn't matter that the question they were asking was rude. It didn't matter that I was asked this question in English and Spanish. "Uh..." is the answer I would always say. I never know what to say. Then that person would continue to guess what I am. "Italian?" "No." "Greek?" "No." "Mixed?" Closer." "I have no idea. Just tell me."
My parents are Mexican. My Dad is from Guanajuato. But his family lived in Michoacán until they moved. My Mom was born in a mining town in Zacatecas. My grandparents then moved to Monterrey because their youngest child couldn't handle the cold. But I am American. I was born in the United States. I learned English first by a couple months. Then my parents taught me Mexican Spanish.
"Do I say, 'Mexican-American', 'Chicana', 'Latina'?"
Every ten years when the American census would be filled I would have to deal with my Mother complaining about how she isn't White. "Yo no soy gringa. Si yo fuera, entonces me trataran mejor." Translation: "If I was white than they would treat me better."
I always thought I was just Mexican. That was the answer my parents always gave me. That answer never satisfied me. "Yeah, but where?" "Where do we come from?" I was right. Mexican is not enough. Latino is not enough. Because every Latino is diverse. Every Latino is different. Even if you're from the same country, state, city or town. My family happens to be Mestizo. It means I have both European (specifically Spanish) and Indigenous ancestry. Originally, an insult and used as a hierarchy standing by the Spanish. In colonialism, the paler a person is the higher their social standing is. That's pretty ridiculous considering that humans can't control their environment or the amount of sun their skin gets. I use this word with pride, not shame. Mestizo is a combination of the Spanish word "mezcla" to mix with a Nahuatl word. Because that is what I am.
When I was a baby I had blonde hair. Then when I was a toddler it was ginger. I had straight hair like all Indigenous people until middle school. My hair became a frizzy, tangled, wavy mess. People who would meet my Dad thought he was White. My Dad has hazel eyes, and at the time had dark brown hair and fair skin. His older brother, my uncle Abel has blonde hair and blue eyes. My aunt Angela has red hair and green eyes. My other aunt Rosa has brown eyes and dark brown hair and is also fair. Ever since I could talk I would call my Dad, "Da". My grandmother's name was Katalina. I have the English version of her name. Her nickname is Kata. Later, I'll explain why these small details are important to me.
I did not grow up like a typical Mexican or Latino person. My Mom made us traditional Mexican food. We also ate pasta, hot dogs, tacos with ground beef, potatoes and carrots, fried ham, and pizza. I grew up with Juan Gabriel, Lola Beltran, Vincente Ferandez, Los Bukis, Los Angeles Azules, etc. My mother also loved classical music, Elvis, Abba, CCR. My Dad is the reason I grew up to be a metalhead. My Dad would sing Van Halen and Guns N' Roses to me as kid. I knew who The Doors, The Who, Black Sabbath, Led Zepplin, Journey, Blue Oyster Cult, and Styx were because of him. My dad bought me my first band shirts. I lived in a small town at the time. Everyone on my block knew my name. My Da and Mom were known in town and church. We were a close knit town. I hated it. Any drama that went down, everyone knew. I had the most American pie childhood. My siblings and I would ride our bikes around town or I would rollerblade. All my friends were White. The only other Mexicans I knew were my cousins. They live in Cook County. We would go to fairs, play baseball or soccer with my Dad across the street. We would go fishing with my Dad's friends. Or I would keep my Dad company while he was fixing a car and drinking beer with his friends. I'm also a nerd because of my Dad. My Dad showed me Star Trek. My Da and I had a weekend ritual. Every Saturday night we would watch Svengoolie together. For those who aren't from the Midwest, Svengoolie is two men who would dress up as an undertaker and show B and C grade horror and sci-fi movies and make commentary. Similar to Mystery Science Theater 3000 but for horror.
In high school I didn't have any Latino friends. All the Latino teenagers my age called me a "blanca" or "gringa." They would insult me because of my interests and hobbies. According to my Latino classmates," I'm not Latino because I don't have an accent like them." I sound like any White girl if they closed their eyes. On the other hand, everyone else never let me forget that I am not fully White. I may be paler, but I'm still not rich. Kids are always rubbing it in my face that I do not have the same privileges as them. They're right. My parents were lower middle class. I never felt poor because I had everything I needed.
My Dad's cousins called me "la hija del diablo" because they're Catholic and I dress goth. They hate that I introduced their progeny to Slayer. They think I'm a Satanist because I wear a pentacle. I've explained to them that I don't worship Satan. Satan is a Christian creation. The points of my pentacle represent the elements of air, water, fire, and earth. The circle represents our spirit. We are of this earth and we will be buried or burned on this earth.
As I said before in other entries, as a child I was obsessed with mermaids and faeries. The older I became, the more I identified with characters from Celtic and Norse mythology. I was raised Catholic. I was forced to go to church every Sunday. It felt wrong. Like I was lying to myself. The older I became the more I questioned my Catholic upbringing. None of it, made any sense. If Juan Diego is a native why would he become Catholic just because he met a Mestiza lady who called herself the Mother of God. Wouldn't he continue to worship their Gods? And how come those Gods are never spoken about? And if my Mom really hates the Spanish than why is she Catholic? The Spanish killed the Aztecs and brought the Catholic God to the Americas. "If only I could worship nature," little heathen me said.
Fast-forward to being 18-years-old. Calling myself Wiccan doesn't feel right either. I felt pulled in several directions. I felt a calling with shamanism, druidry and asatru. I felt awful that I didn't feel that pull for the Mexicas. I received my first tattoo at Tomato Tattoo in Lisle, IL. It is an Anuz rune and a Tyr rune.
Ansuz Rune on my left hand
Rune on my right hand. I didn't know who I was or what my purpose is. Communication and justice are the two most important characteristics to me. My late 20's come. I have been a practicing witch since I was 13. All my deities are from the Celtic and Norse pantheon. I'm so sick of being asked why I'm Mexican, but covered in Norse and Celtic tattoos. Because these are the deities that came to me in a dream or claimed me. Loki calls me his child or darling girl. Hel calls me her little sister. Freyja calls me her pretty one. The Mórrígan calls me her student. All three say I'm of their blood. That information always confused me. Other people never let me forget that I am Mexican. Yet to me, I just felt like myself. I always thought that my love of Celtic and Norse things was because of my deities.
This whole entire time I have endometriosis and no doctor believes me because how could a Mexican girl have a "White disease". I thought my uterus was the same as any other woman, apparently not. From my 20s to 30s I was overweight, I had hormonal acne. I never had acne when I was a teenager. I would get bloated and I'd have diarrhea. My immune system was never good, but now I'm constantly sick. I'd have a rash all over my body. Doctors don't know what is wrong with me. For my 28th birthday I purchase a DNA test. Mostly for the health portion. I wait three months. I crack my typical changeling joke. What is taking so long?! Afterall, I'm just Mexican. Wrong. After seeing the test I'm only 15 percent Indigenous Mexican. The European mixture is signficantly higher. But what blew my mind is learning that I have Irish ancestry from my Dad. Scandinavian from my Mom.
Spanish and Portuguese I understand. Now what my deities said and my interests made so much sense. Being a brown girl with a whole sleeve dedicated to Loki, his children and the Mórrígan is who I am. My maternal line can be traced all the way to Siberia. This means that I am a descendant of shamans like I always felt. The Aztecs, Celts, and Norse all worshipped animals and plants. Just like all shamans do. My report also told me I carried two of the genes for celiac disease. My whole life was like a 3D puzzle coming together. I got tested. I did indeed have celiac disease. When I was 32 my Dad wanted to know about his ancestors so he took the test as well. Turns out my grandfather wasn't lying. My father is related to King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain. He is also related to the one of the many Kings of France.
Researching I learned that in Ireland people call their Dads "Da". I've been calling my Dad "Da" since I could talk. I watched an Icelandic murder mystery on Netflix and the main character's name is Kata. Just like my abuela. Then my partner and I went to a metal fest to celebrate my 30th birthday. It was in Stockholm. I cannot express the feelings I felt while going there. It felt like coming home. Everyone had my body type. Everyone had broad shoulders like me. Growing up I hated my shoulders. People always called me a linebacker. I hated that I was 5'1" with a massive frame. Why couldn't I be petite like my sister? Instead I had to have massive shoulders and build muscle like nothing. Everyone was kind to me there. I have never been to this place, but I somehow knew where everything was. I never used Google Maps when I was there. It was like I already knew this city. Everyone told me my Swedish was not bad for an American. A lot of people thought I was Swedish. I told them barely.
My visit to Sweden, only made me more curious. Then I learn that my abuelos are half Mexican and half Scandinavian. My abuela Katalina is called Kata as her nickname because she is half Swedish. My abuelo Jesús or Chuy has a very Mexican name but he's still half Norwegian. My Mom told me that Sanchez was an adopted name. I always thought my Ma meant her Father or Grandfather was adopted. But no. My great-grandparents did what every immigrant does. They changed their last name to assimilate.
But the truth is that I identify as Latina. My parents were born in Mexico. My grandparents were born in Mexico. My parents only speak Spanish. My grandparents only speak Spanish. Probably because like all immigrants they wanted their kids to speak the language of their birth country.
Even though I've had my issues with Latino culture, I'm still proud to be a Latina. Yes, it makes me incredibly angry how women are treated in our culture. Yes, I hate machistas. Yes, that's the reason I date White men. Because White men are less racist and sexist than my own people. Or maybe it's because I have European features but café con leche colour skin. And yes, I've had issues with Afro-Latinos calling me a White girl or being rude to me. I know it's not their fault. I blame colonialism. The Spanish and French enslaved them. They have every right to be mad. But, I'm also not ridiculous like some Latinos from South America who call themselves Spanish or European. Because I am not. Some of my ancestors might have been. But, I was born in the United States in a state that used to be all Native American. Parts of Chicago are built on Native American burial ground.
I am proud of both my Chicimeca and European ancestors.
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