Our mission:

Read about A Voice of One's Own, where it came from, where it's going, and how you can join its chorus of love here!!

Also, feel free to contact us at voiceofonesown@gmail.com. Guest posting and new writers are not only welcomed, but encouraged, so please feel invited to send us a little taste of your voice :)

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Label Maker

For as long as I can remember, I hated standardized tests. You know, the ones with all those stupid bubbles specifically designed to weed out easily confused and semi-dyslexic kids like me. I could go on forever about the evils of standardized testing, but don't worry I won't. I want to talk about that first sheet you have to fill out, you now with your name, gender, grade... and worst of all race. Now it seems like a simple enough question, and I know it's just for statistic reasons but it made a crappy test even worse for me. See, I always put something different on those tests, not really on purpose, and not to screw with anyone or 'the system' or anything, but because I don't really know what to classify myself. You can imagine what effect this had on me as a little third grader taking those stupid ERB's or whatever they were called.

I didn't even realize how complicated this question was for my sister and me. I mean, I knew my grandmother spoke with an accent, my mothers maiden name was Montoya, and my dad had lighter skin and hair. But since I had grown up with all this I didn't think twice about it. It wasn't until the typical "Where is your family from" project that I realized my family was different than many others. My mother's family is from Colorado and goes back before statehood, before it was apart of the US, and even before it was a part of Mexico. We have blood from the Apache, Hopi, and Lakota, as well as Hispanic as the centuries went by. My father's family is mostly German and English and were among some of the first European settlers in North America. I got my height, eye color, and nose from my father's side, and my complexion and hair color from my mother's. So people generally can't place where I'm from I've been asked if I am Italian, Jewish, Mexican, or Arab more times than I can count.

Years ago when visiting my mom's side of the family my sister and I were teased by our cousins because we talk and look white. Our parents taught in private schools so we usually got reduced tuition, so we were raised with a strong education. Most of our classmates were white.

I still don't know what to put down as an answer.

--Three Feathers

No comments:

Post a Comment