Commentary:Comingto

termswithbeingLatino
Posted: Saturday, July 18, 2015 7:00 pm

http://www.santafenewmexican.com/opinion/commentary/comment
ary-coming-to-terms-with-being-latino/article_cc82f29b-cc81-52f4b243-397140f46ae4.html
By Conor Sanchez
As a Peace Corps volunteer living abroad, youre constantly introducing yourself
to people who may be meeting an American for the first time in their life. And no
matter where you serve, your reputation always precedes you. Be it U.S. foreign
policy in the 1980s vis-a-vis Nicaragua, Chuck Norris movies or Keeping up with
the Kardashians, its impossible to escape the things implicitly stamped into your
passport upon arrival.
The good news is it doesnt take long to challenge popular notions of who
Americans are. In my case, I just tell them my name, which usually elicits a long
blank stare. Then, without fail, they say the same thing: Conor, como John
Connor de Terminator! For some reason, everyone in my town has seen the
Schwarzenegger movie, Terminator, so as of late, Ive resorted to pre-emptively
introducing myself as Conor, Como John Connor del Terminator.
Then I tell them my full name and the confusion starts all over again. Sanchez?
they say disbelievingly. I can see the wheels turning in their heads; he doesnt
sound like a Sanchez, he doesnt look like a Sanchez, and his first name is so so
not Latino.
Ive dealt with this reaction ever since I left New Mexico. Yes, Im Latino. Im also
Irish. My dad is from New Mexico and my mom is from Ireland. No, I didnt grow
up speaking Spanish. Im also white, which doesnt help when Hispanic or
Latino is given a racial value. In New Mexico (one of the few states where an
American minority population is actually the majority), these are common traits
for families that have lived there for generations. Unfortunately, many

stereotypes refuse to die (e.g. were all first generation, we grew up speaking
Spanish, we look the same, etc.).
Here, the look of surprise isnt so much due to skin color (lots of Nicaraguans are
chele Nicaraguan for someone whos light-skinned), but rather because Im
obviously not a native speaker of Spanish. So the fact that I have the name
Sanchez and didnt grow up speaking Spanish immediately attracts questions
about my familys origin, and this is where I struggle the most. I sometimes resort
to giving a short, albeit inaccurate, answer that Im half-Mexican. But recently
Ive wondered if I should be using this as a teaching moment in trying to promote
a better understanding of Americans and, specifically, of the U.S. Latino
community on the part of the country served.
So often the dominant Latino narrative refers to us as immigrants or recent
descendants of immigrants, but some of us are neither. Latinos have lived in
todays continental United States for centuries. Around 100 years before the
Declaration of Independence was written, ancestors of many of todays Latino
Americans were building cities like Santa Fe, Albuquerque and El Paso. Then, the
borders crossed us. New Mexicos constitution was written in both Spanish and
English. In my mind, this makes surnames like Sanchez, Chavez, Martinez and
Lopez just as American as the surnames Smith, Johnston, Jones and Franklin.
My dads family has lived in the territorial United States since the late-1600s.
Thats longer than most American families, and yet, its my surname that solicits
the same question over and over, Where is your family from? I usually respond
with New Mexico, but then I get asked, Yes, but where are they really from?
The truth is, its not that simple, and for a growing amount of Latinos who are
half-Anglo or have lived in the U.S. for generations, that question is pretty
frustrating (For the record, I am also a first-generation American, and if I tell
people that, its usually assumed that one of my parents is from Latin America. In
fact, its my mom who emigrated from Ireland). This is why giving a singular
name to categorize all Latinos, or Hispanics or Hispanos, has always been tricky
business. In New Mexico, most people used Hispanic. In California, most used
Latino. Most of us, it turns out, dont identify with either term.
For one reason or another, I decided to go with Latino at some point in college.
As a half-Latino, half-Irish American mutt, I arrived in Central America in 2014
expecting to recognize some of the regions customs. Instead, I rediscovered what
I learned when I moved to Los Angeles a decade ago: Latino cultures are
extremely distinct from one another. Nicaraguans dont like comida picante.
They have no idea what green chile or sopaipillas are. Nicaraguans have words
and expressions that dont exist anywhere else (like Tuani and Dale Pues).
Although people sometimes use the word Latino here, they first and foremost
identify with their nationality, and they do so passionately as evidenced by the
popular expression, Soy Nica - y que?

Coming from an environment that lumps us all together into one massive voting
block, its actually been quite refreshing to be in a place that acknowledges
diversity within diversity.
As a result, my experience has forced me to think deeply about my own identity. I
think about it every time I introduce myself. I think about it when Im called
gringo on the street. I think about it when I tell people Im from New Mexico
and they ask when I moved from there to the U.S. I think about it when I slip in a
New Mexican phrase like, a la maquina or offer to bake some biscochitos
both of which elicit some fairly confused expressions.
Learning about a new Latin American culture (and in the process, sharing my
own) has reminded me how awesomely diverse Latinos are and how much we
have to gain by interacting more with one another. One of my favorite projects so
far has been a pen pal exchange between my 10th-grade class in a farming village
called La Esperanza and an inner-city school in Washington, D.C. Most of the
American students are originally from El Salvador and are bilingual. They write
about their love for pupusas, hamburgers and pizza, but they also describe feeling
torn between liking their new life in the U.S. and missing the familiarity of home.
For my Nicaraguan students, its been fascinating to learn about life in the U.S. as
well as El Salvadorean culture, which they know very little about despite its
proximity.
In the U.S., we often talk about breaking down barriers between Latinos and
others, but Ive discovered how valuable it can also be to break down barriers
among Latinos themselves. The diversity that exists within our community is
vast, and the misperceptions are numerous. Its such a huge identity thats been
placed upon us that even the U.S. census is still trying to figure out. Worse yet,
some of us feel like we arent Latino enough or have to act a certain way to be
considered Latino.
The urge to shatter preconceived notions of what an American looks like is
something all Peace Corps volunteers strive toward. For minorities, its also about
sharing what makes you unique and how that fits into the broader American
fabric. In my case, its been trying to add some nuance to what a Latino
American looks like. Some of us speak Spanish, some of us dont. Some of us are
black, others are white. Some of us do not identify with a Latino nationality and a
growing number are of mixed heritage.
Finding the bridge between my Latino and Irish backgrounds will always be a
challenge in a world that prefers teams and uninterrupted lines. I can only
imagine what my future kids, wholl speak Spanish with their cousins in Texas,
visit cousins in England on holidays and attend Jewish services on Saturdays, will
feel.
As for the question, Where are you really from? I think Ive got that one
down.

The United States. I am really from the United States.