Personal Narrative: My Identity
I come from a low-income, single parent, immigrant household. My life hasn’t been the easiest, but the challenges I faced growing up that most shaped who I am today weren’t from any external factors. They were within me.
I am in a constant struggle of identity: humans, particularly insecure, neurotic, coming-of-age women like myself, are in a constant search for identification, an anchor that we hold on to validate our existence and legitimize any worries we have that we aren’t normal.
It was difficult enough to grow up and be rejected by anyone, let alone people who look like you telling you that you are nothing like them. Technically, I am Senegalese, but that label doesn’t quite seem to fit. For much of my childhood, I felt a tension between …show more content…
Going out of my way to prove I wasn’t a stereotype got tiring. As a result, I fabricated a new identity for myself. I went out of my way to not be seen with my black peers because I didn’t want to be perceived as “ghetto”. I identified myself as “agnostic” rather than Muslim, on account of being a confused and life-questioning teenager with no solid beliefs was more “in”. I acted dense in class because it was cooler to be the class clown, and god forbid I cared more about my education than my social life. You would think keeping up this pretense would get taxing after a while, but the longer I ran with the charade, the more I became it.
My mom noticed the change in my behavior and decided to send me away to Senegal for the summer before high school. That’s when everything changed for me. It started off strange due to the fact that I kept my American mannerisms in a society where the values were completely different. One day, I was sitting with my grandma in complete silence because I was reluctant to speak. She got fed up with my behavior, and while dragging me by my ear, screeched: “Mirrors don’t lie. The person you see is the person you are and you have nothing to be ashamed of. So stop this foolish American girl act and have some pride or I will smack you so hard your face will look like a donkey’s behind”. From that moment on, I cut the crap and slowly reopened myself to my
I am in a constant struggle of identity: humans, particularly insecure, neurotic, coming-of-age women like myself, are in a constant search for identification, an anchor that we hold on to validate our existence and legitimize any worries we have that we aren’t normal.
It was difficult enough to grow up and be rejected by anyone, let alone people who look like you telling you that you are nothing like them. Technically, I am Senegalese, but that label doesn’t quite seem to fit. For much of my childhood, I felt a tension between …show more content…
Going out of my way to prove I wasn’t a stereotype got tiring. As a result, I fabricated a new identity for myself. I went out of my way to not be seen with my black peers because I didn’t want to be perceived as “ghetto”. I identified myself as “agnostic” rather than Muslim, on account of being a confused and life-questioning teenager with no solid beliefs was more “in”. I acted dense in class because it was cooler to be the class clown, and god forbid I cared more about my education than my social life. You would think keeping up this pretense would get taxing after a while, but the longer I ran with the charade, the more I became it.
My mom noticed the change in my behavior and decided to send me away to Senegal for the summer before high school. That’s when everything changed for me. It started off strange due to the fact that I kept my American mannerisms in a society where the values were completely different. One day, I was sitting with my grandma in complete silence because I was reluctant to speak. She got fed up with my behavior, and while dragging me by my ear, screeched: “Mirrors don’t lie. The person you see is the person you are and you have nothing to be ashamed of. So stop this foolish American girl act and have some pride or I will smack you so hard your face will look like a donkey’s behind”. From that moment on, I cut the crap and slowly reopened myself to my