Italian, German, Swedish, Polish, Hungarian and English and I only really know my ancestry up to my great-grandparents š¤· Sadly the only one I currently speak fluently is English, growing up āwhiteā in the USā¦ I heard somewhere that being considered white in the USA often means giving up aspects of oneās culture and heritage in order to fit in, and knowing that so much never got passed down in the generations between my great-grandparents and me makes me really feel like thereās some truth to that.
Reblog with what languages.
When I was thirteen years old, I googled āhow to be emo.ā The music, the aesthetics, the darkness of it all captivated me. There was transgression there, with boys in makeup and girls who werenāt ashamed to be bisexual. The online emo community on google plus (anyone else remember google plus? Just me?) took me in with open arms. I was allowed to be depressed, I didnāt have to hide my burgeoning sexuality or the starts of my struggle with depression, something I now know was caused by intense amounts of dysphoria and life in an abusive and queerphobic household.
Only, there was one problem. I wasnāt white.Ā
Certainly, nobody would say they had an issue with me being Latino to my face. Most people in the scene genuinely believed they were not racist. After all, they loved Latino people, they thought the guys in Pierce the Veil were so hot. They appreciated the culture too, sombreros and maracas were the full extent of Mexican culture, right?Ā
Seguir leyendo