The Day I Found Out I Wasn't Mexican

Photo credit: Brendan (Flickr)

In the suburbs of Houston, I went to an elementary school that was predominantly Latino and Caucasian. With big brown eyes and dark tan skin, the Hispanic kids immediately befriended me. Since I was fairly new to town having recently moved from Quebec, I was fascinated by these cute kids who kinda looked like me. They would speak Spanish to me, and I was so painfully shy they just thought I didn't like to talk. Little did they know that I didn't know Spanish and was bewildered by what they were trying to tell me.

One day one of my teachers Mrs. Martinez stormed into our classroom and disrupted our spelling lesson. She picked out all the Mexican kids and I was included in this lot. We were pulled out of class, and I thought it was exciting. We felt special. Once we found out we were going to be doing a Mexican dance routine for a recital for the school, I was super pumped. Though I was shy and didn't like to talk, I was completely comfortable dancing. My dance partner Armando was pretty cool. I also liked how my dance teacher was so sweet and pleasant. It was a far-cry from the awful ballet teacher I had in Montreal who used to pull our ponytails to get us in the proper position.

I was excited because the girls were going to get to wear bright red lipstick and don these huge colorful skirts which were perfect for twirling. I was so pumped up about this. I was a part of something.

Well one day.... Mrs. Martinez pulled me aside while the rest of the kids went to dance rehearsal.
"I'm so sorry, mija. I made a big mistake. You can not be in the Mexican dance," Mrs. Martinez calmly and apologetically said. I looked at her very confused. I was wondering if I did something wrong. "Yeah, I just found out you are not Mexican. I made a mistake your last name is Spanish. So I did not realize you are actually Filipino. This dance is for the Mexican students."