I’ve been looking to start a blog for 5 years and in 2015 I wrote my first blog. Cleaning up my files (laptop), I bumped into it…may be the start of something. Here it goes:
I’m Latina. Latina, I am. Soy Latina. It’s been a journey of two decades that brought me to proudly and steadfastly claim my identity here in the U.S., slowly transitioning from “I’m Puerto Rican” to the more inclusive “I’m Latina”. Let me explain…
Just as many million other immigrants in this country, I arrived to the U.S. a little over 20 years ago longing for big opportunities, new adventures, and in hot pursuit of a promising future. With a Masters Degree in hand, and full command of the English language I was ready to conquer the Big Apple. But I didn’t, and it’s OK. Many don’t and I’m in very good company.
Looking back, I’ve come to realize that being from Puerto Rico and a woman immediately classified me within the segment of the working-class called Hispanic female. I quickly learned to survive by building meaningful relationships with fellow colleagues who also had roots in Latin America. They too faced the same challenges as me, and were all setting our eyes on the same goals, among them reaching that six-figure salary. Sandra from Perú, Marcia from Ecuador, David from Puerto Rico, Francisco from Dominican Republic, Roxana from Argentina, Laura from Mexico and countless others, became familia, and I became Latina in their midst.
Ah! I was so naïve! So trusting! So innocent! Overworked and underpaid was my work status during my eleven-year tenure in Corporate America when compared to my White male counterparts. And nothing much has changed since. According to a 2012 study conducted by the American Association of University Women (AAUW), Hispanic women earn on average 53 cents for each dollar earned by a White male to perform the same work (White females make an average of 78 cents for each White male dollar earned).
Then, in 2008 I lost my job. Yeah, the notorious Recession. I was at a crossroads. I was almost 40, Masters Degree still in hand, fully bilingual and now with over a decade of solid work experience. I had to be real and ask myself: “What are my options as a Latina? Do I stand in line with another 500 people to fight for that one available job that will pay a fraction of what I am used to earning?” At this point, I was completely aware that I was making way less than my White male counterparts, who by the way, were also standing in that line.
Without hesitation I decided to join the ranks of hundreds of thousands Latino business owners who fuel this country’s economy. I participated in events held by various chambers of commerce; Hispanic, Puerto Rican, Brazilian, Moroccan. I found my voice, once stifled by a system that wanted to define me. I learned to articulate my role in my very competitive industry and in my community. I was able to explore wonderful collaborations and friendships with people of all professional and ethnic backgrounds on my terms, as a businesswoman. And in that process of professional enrichment and growth I’ve discovered that during the last few years I’ve been proudly and steadfastly claiming a new identity here in the U.S., slowly transitioning from “I’m Latina” to the more inclusive “I’m Brown”. Brown, I am. Soy Brown. No need to explain…
