Who Are We When Everyone Wants Us to Choose Sides?
What It Really Means to Be Mexican-American: A Story of Identity, Opportunity, and Belonging
In this episode of the podcast, we dive into what it means to grow up and live as Mexican-American—especially in a time when identity is often reduced to headlines, hashtags, or political sides.
Our story isn’t theoretical. We’ve lived on both sides of the U.S.-Mexico border. We’ve felt the weight of immigration policy, experienced what it means to lose everything, and rebuilt our lives from almost nothing. And in sharing these moments, we’re not trying to spark debate—we’re reclaiming a narrative that’s often misunderstood.
Immigration From the Other Side
When I moved back to Mexico as an adult—with children in tow—I ran into barriers most Americans don’t realize even exist. I couldn’t legally work without a CURP (Mexico’s version of a Social Security number), and my son wasn’t allowed to enroll in the neighborhood school because preference was given to children born in Mexico. These policies weren’t fueled by hate—they were simply laws, the same kind of immigration policies that exist everywhere, including in the U.S.
My mother was deported from a courtroom in 2013—years before today’s headlines. Immigration enforcement isn’t new. What’s changed is the emotional charge behind how it’s discussed and the way social media amplifies it. Policies that have existed across multiple administrations are suddenly framed as new or uniquely cruel, when in reality, they’ve long been a part of how borders operate.
Coming Back with Nothing
When I returned to the U.S. in 2019, I had $20, a suitcase, and two kids. No job. No car. No clear plan. I was also coming out of a violent relationship and carrying the trauma that came with it. Within months, I found work, bought a car, and signed a lease. Within a few years, we became homeowners.
That kind of progress wasn’t easy—but it was possible. That’s what America gave me: opportunity. Not perfection. Not a handout. A shot. I had worked just as hard in Mexico and couldn’t get ahead. Here, the system—despite its flaws—allowed me to build something. That difference is real.
The Pressure to Pick a Side
As Mexican-Americans, we’re often expected to prove our loyalty—to either side. That pressure showed up in the backlash I got after promoting Fourth of July merchandise. People assumed I had forgotten my roots, or worse, abandoned them. But those same people didn’t know my story. They didn’t know about my mom’s deportation. Or how I’d slept on floors. Or how hard I’d fought to be where I am now.
There’s a belief that if you celebrate American holidays, or express gratitude for this country, you’ve somehow turned your back on your culture. But for many of us, the truth is more layered. We’ve sacrificed and struggled for both identities. We don’t see it as choosing one over the other—we live in the tension of both.
We Can Hold Both
We can honor our Mexican roots and appreciate the opportunities we’ve had in America. We can advocate for better immigration policies and still understand the necessity of having laws in place. We can be proud of our family’s sacrifices while building something new for the next generation.
Being Mexican-American doesn’t mean splitting yourself in half. It means standing in the overlap—owning both stories fully.
