SandScript 2021

out one more, “EXCUSE ME!” in a rude
condescending voice. My family and
I moved out of her way looking at her
like the crazy woman she was. She and
her blonde, white children finally passed
by us. As these movements occurred,
we hear this woman yell one last phrase
directed at my mother, “Ugh, wetback!”
as her children, specifically the oldest one
appearing about 14 years of age, began
laughing and pointing at my family and
me. We were shocked because though
we were young children, we knew the
gravity and intentions behind that word.
My mother raised her voice at her telling
her to shut her uneducated mouth up.
I felt lost on how a person could be so
cruel.
As I grew older, I realized more and
more that the U.S. was not the country I
had presumed it to be. It was full of hate,
racism, and bigotry against my people
and me. I did not want to be a part of
that society. Though throughout my
whole life I hated being called Mexican
American as opposed to Mexican, after
these experiences of racism, I began to
emphasize this hatred to be classified as
“American” even more. I was not and
did not want to be an American. I did not
want to be a part of a country that did
not even want me.
I realized where I belonged. I began
to love my culture more than ever
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