Being born in El Paso, Texas, on the 4th of July symbolized one thing and one thing only: I was a “most American” person. I was born in America, but as soon as the doctors let us out of the hospital, I moved with my parents to Mexico City where I was raised. Even though we had many significant celebrations in Mexico, I never had the chance to experience a big July 4th barbeque in our backyard, since July 4th was just another ordinary day in Mexico. It all changed at the age of 15 when my mom told me that my stepdad was transferred to an office in Dallas, Texas. Considering that Mexico and America are neighboring countries, I naively did not expect to suffer any sort of culture shock.
But when I moved, I remember feeling like a foreigner even though I acted and dressed the same way as everyone else in my classes. I started high school unaware of the expectations and traditions in this country, and even the process of something as simple as choosing my classes was quite different than what I was accustomed to. In Mexico, students’ classes were assigned automatically, with no options to choose designations such as Advanced Placement or Honors classes. Additionally, sports were not emphasized at my school in Mexico, and we most definitely didn't have pep rallies and football games--I was completely amazed when I saw my first football game at the high school. The jumping, screaming, and cheering in the student section next to the 300 members of the band was exhilarating, but what amazed me the most was what happened after the game: Whataburger. Going to Whataburger after every game was almost mandatory as it was the only decent place open after ten o’clock at night. It offered me a time to laugh, tell stories, and make great connections with friends that I will treasure for life.
Traditions are not learned overnight, however. It took nearly three full years of high school before I acclimated to my new country and experienced Homecoming mums that were as big as I was, the glamor of prom, and learning how to drive on ice. I had to get used to stepping out of my comfort zone and trying new things because, despite being born in America, I really knew almost nothing about the culture.
Just as I learned new traditions, I had the pleasure of teaching others mine. Many of my friends initially believed that Mexico had chickens roaming the streets everywhere, that people rode donkeys, and that we wore big sombreros on a day-to-day basis. They were so surprised to hear that Mexico City is one of the closest cosmopolitan cities to Dallas and that I was completely bilingual. I taught my friends about true Mexican food like Valentina salsa with chips and shared one of our best cultural traditions: the kiss on the cheek, which is a fancy way to say hello and goodbye to friends and family. The fact is, if there are 100 people in a room, you are going to kiss on the cheek every single person in that room since that is viewed as the polite thing to do. Because I was raised that way, when I got to Dallas I automatically leaned in to kiss new acquaintances on the cheek. Often they were only expecting a friendly handshake, which makes for many awkward moments. Once, I kissed a boy on the cheek; he blushed and said he didn't "feel the same way." Confused, I explained the kiss. After we had a big laugh about it, he became one of my best friends and my most faithful instructor of all things American. He was the student who introduced me to Whataburger in the first place.
Many people ask me if I identify more as a Mexican or as an American. Three years ago, I would have said, "Mexican", but after living in America, my response has changed to "both," because it is not about choosing one over the other, but how they can coexist in the same space, making me the person I am today.