by Dianalys Ruiz
Countless nights, unable to sleep. What is keeping me up, though? I stare at myself in the mirror, observing my features. After glaring at myself for a while, I determine what the problem is. I walk to my room and lie down in my bed with one goal in mind. I rest my head on my pillow and place my wrist on the bump of my nose, in hopes that when I wake up, my bump will magically disappear.
This feature is what shows everyone what I am. From my hairy arms to my legs to my caramel-brown skin tone. Being accepted is something teenagers long for, but what does one do when they are up to no one’s standards?
I appear to be one thing, but to others I appear to be another. Growing up interracial has always been a shame of mine, but who put me to that shame? I surely cannot speak Spanish, but I also do not look like the typical white individual you would see around South Carolina.
Well, maybe if I knew how to speak Spanish, they would like me. But if I leaned in more to that side, I would not be accepted by others. For a long time now, I have been scared to be in touch with my Mexican culture and myself. Accepting my features and who I am deep down always felt like a difficult decision for me, but what made it harder was going out in public and getting weird stares.
What made it harder was being on the bus for the first time and casually getting called a “beaner.” I hated myself, and I hated being who I appeared to be. Until it got to be how it is now.
In this current day and age, everyone is divided, and I realized there are more people who probably feel the way I do. Hispanics are always fighting for their places in communities, in the United States.
When I am in my car passing ongoing construction, I watch people who look like me working on important buildings and homes in Spartanburg. When I arrive at my home, I hear my father tell me he needs to cut the grass.
He is especially good at landscaping, and it was once his job. He worked for people with big houses, in neighborhoods probably controlled by a homeowners association. My father is a hardworking man, and it automatically puts my mind on this specific topic: Hispanics work hard for everything they do, for everything they earn. Now, they are not being accepted by their communities. I am struggling with that too. I have been struggling with this forever, but as an interracial teenager, it hurts to see my two sides fighting against each other. One side of me wants the other one to be gone, and the other side is fighting for their place constantly. I thought that this was an inner battle, but now I am watching as it unfolds in front of me. If there is anything that I want more, it is for every part of me to be accepted, but that will not happen until one part of me is accepted by the other.
I am not what people label as a part of me. I am not an “illegal monster” nor a “criminal.” I am everything my mother and father are. My mom being half Mexican and half White, came from nothing and worked hard even after she met my dad. My dad helped us more than anything and spoiled me all the time. My father is not a “dangerous” person. He is a father, a brother, and a son. He worked hard in America to provide his family with what they need. He gives his mom and dad one hundred dollars every Mother’s and Father’s Day. He hugs his mom, like a little boy, and smiles like a child when he is around his parents. He is just like any person here.
Now more than ever, Hispanics need South Carolina’s support. We are now ruled by a government that makes individuals feel comfortable enough to be racist and hurtful to certain races, to people of color. We are divided, but now more than ever, we need a community. We need the people of South Carolina to accept others as they wish to be accepted. In the end, I’m nothing but a teenager, but I am also someone who struggles to love and accept herself. I am someone who tried to get rid of her features because I was never accepted. I am in constant conflict with different parts of myself, but seeing it unfold in front of me makes me feel foolish for ever hating myself. I want to see unity, and I want our community to fight for the right thing.
About Dianalys Ruiz
Dianalys Ruiz attends Spartanburg County Early College High School, where Lyndsey Williams is her English teacher. The daughter of Maria and Alejandro Rivas, she was inspired to write “My Inner and Outer Conflict” because of her parents’ hard work and resilience. Dianalys appreciates what they’ve done to give her the life and education they never had.