My mom was born in Mexico, grew up in Southern California and eventually met
my dad a Scandinavian mid-westerner. They fell in love and moved to
Minnesota, then they had me. I grew up in the country and had a fairly typical Minnesotan upbringing, except for the fact that I looked a little different than the people I was surrounded by. As I got older, I never knew what box to check, since none of them described me, I checked “other.” It was clear by the comments I sometimes received, that I was not like everyone else. For many of my peers, I was the most Mexican person they had ever met and had to explain my culture. Ten years later, I decided to move to Los Angeles. Suddenly, I went from being the most Mexican person in the room, to being the whitest. My Spanish is not very good and my fathers name is clearly Norwegian. There, I was just a brunette with a tan. Now, I am no longer concerned fitting into a category and now prefer to embrace all “other” parts of me equally and proudly.