This opinion column was written by OCU HSA member Destyni Lietzke (Bueno) on behalf of the Hispanic Student Association.
Being Latina is my absolute favorite part of myself. I love immersing myself in my culture and learning something new about it every day. I love being able to eat menudo, a Hispanic dish made up of broth, hominy, and the lining of a cow, in the wintertime with my grandmother.
However, as proud as I am, it was not always this way. There was a time when I questioned everything and wondered if I was Hispanic at all.
I grew up in Corpus Christi, Texas. Corpus Christi’s population is dominantly made up of Latinos of Mexican descent, including my family. However, according to other people, there was no way I was Hispanic.
Unlike the rest of my family, I had pale skin. I never learned Spanish, and, except for Selena, I did not listen to Spanish music. I did not find a problem with any of this, but the words of microaggression started to get to me after so long.
People would read my biological last name, Bueno, and question it. “Your last name is Bueno? But you do not look Hispanic. Do you even know what that means?” they’d say. People would also ask me, “What part of Mexico is your family from?” I have no idea what part of Mexico my family is from because my Mexican heritage can be traced far back and gets complicated quickly.
When I said I did not know I would get weird looks. People would say, “Oh, so you’re not a real Hispanic.” As a 12-year-old, it messed with my brain. Was I a real Hispanic? What even was a real Hispanic? I took it all in and suppressed my heritage.
When I was adopted, my last name changed to Lietzke. I did not speak of my other last name Bueno. I let people make assumptions because I did not want to deal with or handle what they had to say.
When I got to college, my first-year RA was Amanda Boozer. Amanda, being the president of the Hispanic Student Association, invited me to a meeting after learning I was Hispanic.
I was extremely hesitant, mainly because up until her invitation, I was made to feel society that I was not Hispanic enough to be part of an organization like the Hispanic Student Association.
After my first meeting, my perception of myself completely changed. Never had I been so comfortable with a group of people. It did not matter what other people thought I was or was not.
The members of the Hispanic Student Association did not care, either. What they cared about was who I truly am, and more importantly how I felt. Their priority was and still is to make sure that every member feels like they are heard and have a safe space no matter what their background is.
From movie nights, holiday parties, and community ofrendas, the love is always there. Never did I feel ostracized or weird. There is no such thing as “not Hispanic enough,” especially in HSA. The members love you for who you are. The HSA has taught me more about my culture and I feel inspired to embrace my background and who I am.
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