Personal Narrative: My Hispanic Family

634 Words2 Pages

I looked at my cousin in dismay as she said, “Be proud that your skin is light, primo. People won’t judge you.” Despite my Hispanic family’s efforts to instill me with pride in my Hispanic culture, I often felt conflicted with a sense of identity. Here I was, standing outside the house, consuming every ray of sunlight that danced upon my skin in a desperate attempt to be darker. My Hispanic family tried their best to teach me to be proud of my heritage, but my Caucasian family always taught me that white was superior. I grew up in a world where I was torn between who I was and what others wanted me to be. I was a biracial child in a monoracial society. My Guatemalan father and my Casuauain mother were often ridiculed for having “impurities”

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