A young woman once told me, “You’re not American, you’re Mexican, and you should remember that.”
Now presume the color of her skin. White? That would fit the narrative.
No. She was “brown,” like me. We were about the same age and shared a common ethnic background, though that was about it. She insisted that I am not American, rather a Mexican in America—a Chicano or whatever.
This was the first time in my life someone told me that I am, as a minority, dispossessed in the nation I call home, the nation I adore. And it came from a Mexican national.
Interestingly, she is also a Mexican national who chooses to frequent the much safer, cleaner nightlife scene of San Diego. There’s a word for countries like Mexico that warn foreigners to steer clear of five states (one that’s just slightly bigger than Maine) because of a high chance of “homicide, kidnapping, carjacking and robbery.” Sunny, with a chance of murder.
A Well-Documented “Undocumented” Victory
Then again, the lines between California and Mexico have been blurred lately.
Consider. California has appointed a Mexican citizen to state office. Born in Mexico, Lizbeth Mateo entered the United States at 14 with her parents.
Read the full article in American Greatness.
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