It’s Hispanic Heritage Month and like millions of Americans I am recognizing my culture’s contributions to America and celebrating its achievements.
Just don’t expect me to wave a flag in the street, or wear a flag shirt, or put those flag “thingies” on my car (I hate those!)
It’s not that I’m not proud of my heritage, it’s just that I don’t feel the need to show it during the seemingly arbitrarily chosen days between September 15
th and October 15
th. What’s up with that anyway? Why not just start the party on September 1
st? Actually, I’m just glad there is a month dedicated to Hispanics at all. Hispanic Heritage Month was only officially recognized in
1988! But, I digress. My point is that there is the belief among some of my ilk that celebrating our heritage
must include some attention-drawing, passionate expression of pride. There is a notion that in order for your pride to be genuine it must be loud. Mine is a silent pride, a constant one that is given voice only when necessary. People who know me know I’m dramatic enough, so can you imagine if I went all out during the annual Puerto Rican festival here in Rochester? I believe your love of your heritage is best expressed by
how you live your life. The respect you show yourself is the respect others will have for you.
I can hear the criticism now (and I have heard it MANY times). “You’re not proud; you’re not Hispanic enough, etc.” Perhaps I don’t fit the stereotypical profile of what some consider bona fide Hispanic. Green eyes, blonde hair? Yes, Hispanics come in all colors. Holland? Yes, that’s my non-Hispanic father’s last name. My parents are married and, as such, we share a common name. Get over it.
As our nation becomes more blended, a person’s skin color no longer necessarily dictates what race they are.
I’m proud of this fact and am living proof that you can be “mixed” without being mixed up.
I’m proud to say I’m Puerto Rican, in case you didn’t know it.
