The other day, I went to get a haircut with this kid I was watching for the week. He threw a fit about getting a haircut, so I told him I would too. I asked for a trim on my hawk and some fade work for the sides. The hairstylist went to work and started rambling to me about things, as anyone else would. She then made a comment about how my hairstyle became popular in Texas, where she was from, among the Mexican community. She said she thought it was silly because the men/boys did NOT look good with it and she excused herself by adding "and I can say that, because I am Mexican myself". I let out an uneasy chuckle and said "me too." She then took a hard look at me and exclaimed "no way!" I nodded and smiled politely, as I have grown used to doing my whole life. See, I'm half Mexican, half Italian. But I could never "pass" as a "true Mexican" because I "look white". Though, back in Nazi Germany days, I wouldn't be considered white at all. My skin is a light olive, eyes dark brown, hair brown and curly thick . But I digress. The Mexican community in Chicago, IL hated me for how white I looked. The white rednecks in La Grande, OR hated the way I pronounced my last name and other Spanish words "with a speech impediment" and that my dad was brown. I grew to learn how to navigate both extremes. With closed-minded white folks, I state my heritage, but emphasize that my dad (Mexican) was born here and it's actually my mom (Italian) who is the immigrant. That seems to confuse them at first, but then they ease up and respond with a "oh, weird" and then we continue on with conversation. With other Mexicans, I have to work a little harder. To subdue their questioning, judgmental looks, I have to explain my heritage. I have to say that my dad is 1st gen, his mother's family is from Texas back when it was still Mexico, his father came from Leon with only 20 bucks in his pocket, my family traces back to the Aztec, that I have been to Mexico when I was 10 and saw the pyramids, that I make tamales every Christmas..... when they ask "but do you speak Spanish?" I explain that I know neither Spanish or Italian because my parents wanted their kids to "fit in with the other American kids". And ONLY THEN do their questioning looks fade. Only then do they treat me like I am on their level. And in some ways, I have gotten used to it. In other ways, I get frustrated still. But that comes with being me, with being on the edge of in-between 2 worlds. I think about this struggle thatI have grown used to in a frustrating way and I wonder if my journey with my gender identity will be the same. Will women be confused by but accepting of how I am not one of them? Will I have to go out of my way to convince men that I AM one of them? How am I going to get used to this? Will I ever pass? Probably not. In the same way that I can't pass as a Mexican, maybe I will never pass as a man, despite the fact that I AM a Mexican and I AM a man. I AM a man. I AM. #TransMen #Support #SelfAcceptance #PrinceTranserella #SelfLove #LivingInbetween
