Your Stories: How Much of a Mexican Am I?

CC photo of traditional rakhi bracelet courtesy of Über Times on Flickr

How much of a Mexican am I? If you ask the people who look at me, or who see my name, my resume, or even those who knew me as a child, they would say I am not. If you ask those who truly know me, they would say I am a Mexican at heart.

I spent a huge part of my life feeling somewhat different from the groups to which I belonged. I was the Asian-Indian, English-speaking kid in a largely French- Canadian city. I was the only male in my grad school class with 56 women. I was the straight kid who cared more about fashion and arts than sports or machines. And all the while, although the people around me tried to make me feel like I fit, I never fully felt like I belonged.

And then I was adopted.

There is no legal evidence of this adoption. There's no paper trails to follow and no “provide-me-this-and-in-turn-I-give-you-that” contracts. This adoption was done through heart and feelings. I was even well past legal age for guardianship at the age of 28. However, it ended up being one of the most pivotal happenings of my life.

My Mexican-American sister, who brought me into my new familia, introduced a bruised and battered soul with years of self-depreciation and loathing from many years of not belonging into an atmosphere of openness and compassion. For the first time in my life I felt what it was like to be loved fully and unconditionally for who I am.

As I was brought deeper and deeper into the familia and the familia settled into aw place in my heart, I found what struck me between the culture I was born into and the one I was adopted into were not the differences but the similarities. Family functions always involved food. Family members had an open invitation to just drop by any other family members’ house. Family members stuck up for each other, no matter what the situation. Elders were not just respected, but revered. We could reprimand anyone’s misbehaving kids, not just our own. Sure, things had different names, but many of the core concepts and beliefs were the same.

My new familia was loud and at times boorish, with everyone in each other's lives on a daily basis. They were always giving opinions of what to do, but still always accepting of whatever you decided on your own. This was my version of heaven at the time!

When I underwent major surgery, it was mi familia that cared for me. When I needed a shoulder to cry on it was their shoulders I went to. When life brought me good news, it was with them I couldn’t wait to share it! They also taught me to say ‘I love you” to my family without shame or embarrassment.

My adopted sisters started adopting parts of the Indian culture I was born into and we became “rakhee” sibling, bound by an eternal promise to lookout for each other. I ended up with the better end of the bargain.

The tireless and nonjudgmental love mi familia gave me was the catalyst that helped me finally come into my own as a man. The lessons I learned from mi familia became very much woven into the fabric of my being and got me ready for my biggest undertaking: the role of husband and father.

Imparted to me by mi familia, some of the ways I think, the ways I look at the world and the ways I handle situations have their origins in Mexican culture. My kids have a Mexican influence in their lives that they are not even aware of. And it just feels right.

So to ask if I am a True Mexican? You better believe I am!!

-Anuj Bhatnagar