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Personal Narrative: My Identity In Rio Grande Valley

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Growing up, I never believed I had an identity. When I delve back to my earliest of memories, both English and Spanish made an appearance in my dialogue. Because my life had always remained constrained in a blend of American and Mexican culture, it was difficult to distinguish exactly which group I resonated most with. Here in the Rio Grande Valley, it is an internal war that is fought constantly. Whoever could predominantly show their Mexican heritage would be held at a great regard for not neglecting their roots. At the same time however, there was an ongoing battle of who could illustrate the American dream at its acme. In other words, whoever could boast their upper middle-class status and materialistic possessions was also greatly revered.…show more content…
In my situation, I am fluent in Spanish and have taken great pride in my parent’s history, but I could never truly be considered Mexican, for my tongue lacked practice in comparison and my education of the culture fell short. In turn, the level of melatonin my body would release with the combination of the native blood that coursed through my veins retained me from being considered fully American despite being born in the United States. So, if I did not belong to either tribe, then who was I to say that I had a sense of community; moreover, a sense of identity. It wasn’t until my freshmen year of high school that I began to realize that I had been living in a territory where my brethren faced the same
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