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"A man's country is not a certain area of land, of mountains, rivers, and woods, but it is a principle and patriotism is loyalty to that principle."
-George William Curtis
It is a unique pride & enjoyment to be able to call myself American. Being born in Mexico City, I immigrated to this country before my first birthday. Needless to say, my loyalties have no always been to America.

Growing up in southern California I was exposed to many different cultures & ethnicities. I grew up in a black neighborhood, having black friends, & ultimately pretending to be black. My parents could not understand why my first language was English, nor could they understand why I wasn't able to speak Spanish. I could simply say it was because they worked so much that my older brother & I had to watch for ourselves. My parents desperate to have with communication with me & my new found "culture" decided to take it upon them to educate themselves in English, American History, & eventually towards obtaining their citizenship.
Life seemed perfect, I had tons of friends, my parents were able to have better jobs due to their education & thus were home much more. Life seemed to go great for us until I was in 3rd grade, & I heard someone call me a beaner'. I wasn't able to understand, I thought to myself, "beaner? I don't even like beans, what is he talking about?" When I got home I asked my brother what that meant, he obviously was upset that someone would call me such a derogatory word. He tried fruitlessly to explain to me the racial slur but I just wasn't able to find it offensive, I mean Mexicans do like beans, even if I didn't, I knew Mexicans enjoyed them. I shrugged it off as nothing, until the next day that very same boy called me a border hoper'. I knew it was something to do with my heritage but again I was unable to understand why he would call me, a Mexican, a border hoper. Instead of fighting with the boy (he was a 5th grader) I went to tell my teacher of the offensive' words I was just told. My teacher told me not to worry & then made a racial slur against the boy! That was the first time I were heard the word "nigger". That's when life changed for me, every time I saw an African-American, I was sure to call him "nigger" resulting in several fights in school, at home, & even amongst my very first friends I made when I came to this country. I changed my appearance, my persona, & my friends, I was racially motivated to engage in war' with every dark skinned boy ages 4-9 I saw.

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