First-Generation Kids
By Lucía Angel Camarena
Interviewed by Jessica Pierotti
This interview was conceived of because Lucía wrote a post about her experience as a first-generation kid on Instagram that really resonated with her community and with me. The way she described her experience is so lucid, honest, and at times vulnerable. As a white reader, it helped me to better understand the complexities of first-gen identity, and the sometimes joyful and sometimes painful process of juggling the many facets of oneself, alongside the perceptions and expectations of others. Thank you so much to Lucía for sharing with us then and now.
At what age do you think you started thinking critically about your identity as a first-generation kid?
There are so many layers to this I don’t even know where to start so i’m just going to try to do this from the beginning.
Growing up in Little Village, a predominantly Mexican community in Chicago, with kids who look like me and had the same or similar lived experience being first-generation, gave me the initial lens that this was the norm. It wasn’t something I paid much attention to identity wise. When I left the comforts of my neighborhood to go to high school at Whitney Young (essentially in the West Loop) my mind was opened to a whole new experience. This was when I began to think critically about my identity as a Mexican American. I was exposed to a larger group of first-generation kids—Jamaican American, Asian American, other Latino groups, mixed first-gen kids—really everything under the sun was represented at Whitney Young. This was also my first experience meeting a large population of white folks in general. It was my first time meeting a Jewish person! All this to say, my access was so limited prior. I’m reminded of the privileges I was allotted to expand my general worldview by leaving my neighborhood and going to Whitney Young. This is not the narrative of most of my elementary school classmates.
College was really where my identity was questioned and challenged the most, internally and externally. I went to the University of Wisconsin-Madison, where the undergrad population is 75% white, and the Latino undergraduate population barely hits 5%. The few other first-gen students and BIPOC students I knew were mostly from Chicago. This was a big shock that I was not ready for. My dad finished high school in Mexico before moving to the US, and my mom completed 5th grade in Mexico before being pulled out of school to help her mom at home and later came to the US at age 14. My older brother attended a Chicago community college for a 2-year program so I was the first in my family to attend a 4-year university. I had surpassed the experience of my parents and they couldn’t help to prepare me for this. This is an experience a lot of first-gen kids have—going past the point where your parents can advise you. A lot of my classmates’ parents and grandparents and so forth, were UW Alum, so there was this embedded knowledge they had of how to navigate college that I was missing.
Life in Madison during these years made me feel very “othered,” and was also where I experienced the most racism in my life.
During my first week in Madison, a White classmate asked me, “What are you?”
To which I had no idea how to respond.
“Where are you from?” He said.
“Oh! I’m from Chicago,” I replied.
“No, I mean, where are you really from?”I had never been asked this question before.
I responded, “If you mean where my family is from, they’re from Mexico.”
To which he said, “Oh! I thought Mexicans were short, fat and dark, but I’ve never met one that looks like you.”
I’ll never forget this conversation.
There were lots of things about college that helped develop my identity as a first-generation kid. My parents didn’t want me to go to UW-Madison, although it’s one of the top schools in the nation, because it was a whole 120 miles away from Chicago. Traditionally, Mexican women don't move out of their parent’s house until they’re married, so how dare I leave my house to run wild at college at 18? My dad had this mentality that you could get a good education anywhere, so they wanted me to stay in Chicago. Being first-generation means doing a lot of things that piss off your parents because they don’t understand the moves you’re making to get ahead in life. It means understanding that fellow classmates think you got into UW because of an affirmative action clause, not because you’re smart enough. It means working two jobs while going to school while everyone else is partying, so you don’t have to ask your parents for money because of the insane guilt you have that they’re already contributing to your $30,000/year education. It means cooking things in the communal dorm kitchen that remind you of home—because you’ve never been away from home for this long—and having other kids make fun or tell you it’s weird. It means living at the intersection of two cultures, and never feeling like you’re enough of either.
Another layer of this was my connection or lack thereof with some of the other first-gen, Latino students I met at UW. Many of them were of indigenous roots, and as a light-skinned Mexican, I was also othered here. I was told I didn’t understand the struggle because I could pass as White. I was told I wasn’t Mexican enough, etc. Having my identity questioned by my “own people” helped me understand the complexity of my culture, and understand that Latinos are not a monolithic group. We are more diverse in thought and appearance than people give us credit for. I had a really difficult time getting into a groove in college because of all the weight I carried trying to figure it out, without much support from people that could understand what I was going through. I think this experience is common for first-generation kids who are often put in a position to just figure it out. How are we supposed to get to an equal playing field with our counterparts when we don’t have the right tools, and when we are forced to forge the path forward, first?
What have been some specific pivotal influences on your thinking around identity, that you think have impacted who you are growing into now? Any artists, teachers, experiences that come to mind?
I was studying Textile and Apparel Design at UW-Madison with the intent to move to NYC one day and work in the fashion industry. The summer between my sophomore and junior year of college I landed an internship at a design house I really admired. I packed my bags and moved to NYC against my parents wishes, and with $100 in my bank account. I was again immersed in the diversity that I was missing in Madison, WI. My worldview expanded so much that summer—meeting people from all over the world, and exploring a city that was bigger than Chicago that had so much culture neighborhood by neighborhood. I changed a lot as a person that summer, and was reminded that I was not an “other” in the larger picture. When I got back to Madison that year, I knew that was my last year in school. I came back with the approach that I was going to arm myself with as much knowledge as I could to move ahead in life, but that I was moving back to Chicago after that year. I was so over my textile program. All of my professors were white and only centered white art, aside from my one professor who uncomfortably glorified a textile collective in Oaxaca and always awkwardly called me out during class to say a word she knew in Spanish. I luckily had a really incredible German professor who took me under his wing and always advocated for me. My junior year at UW I lined up my class schedule to essentially only take entrepreneurship classes, and a few art-centered classes. In all of my business classes I was the only non-white person, or womxn. Again my worldview continued to expand, but I wouldn’t say it was anyone or anything specific. It was just the immense collection of information I had the privilege of taking in and being exposed to. Although the majority of my classmates from Whitney Young were in some of the top colleges and universities in the country, my true comparison of privilege and identity always came back to my classmates from elementary school and what they had access to. Some had died from gang violence, my best friend was in jail, many of the girls I used to hang out with were young single mothers, and many did not finish high school, etc. My own community made me feel othered because I had “gotten out” of our neighborhood.
Three years after leaving college I went on a backpacking trip in Europe with my then partner. We traveled to about 20 cities across 7 different countries. It was the first time I had ever been out of the US and literally exposed to the world. My perspective changed so much over those months—understanding the layers and history of our world. Being in Portugal and Spain and realizing how similar but different I was from people there, my long-long ancestral line that probably was from there, was very eye-opening for me. At the same time having that awakening, I was reminded at all times that I was American. When I spoke in Spanish in Spain, I was reminded that I was Mexican. I literally had some Spaniards roll their eyes at my accent because it’s not as beautiful as theirs. I was really influenced by the architecture of every country and city I went to and the way people lived. It was so much more wholesome and well-rounded. I remember feeling like it wasn’t all-consuming like it was in America. When I got back to the states I remember feeling this insane sense of sadness that I had never been to Mexico, like anywhere in it. I felt like some sort of fake, having such a defined Mexican identity, having seen other parts of the world before seeing the motherland. I oddly had some friends going to Mexico City the following week so I booked a flight without even thinking about it. When I got to Mexico City I experienced such a shock at how vast the city was, how beautiful it was, how much I felt at home with MY PEOPLE! I remember being shocked at how cool and modern parts of the city were because we’re so used to seeing the stereotypical things of Mexican culture in the states. I became really enamored with architect Luis Barragan after seeing his house there, and that’s work I very often reference for inspiration.
My parents moved to the US from their hometown in Jalisco when they were 14 (my mom) and 17 (my dad). They went back a few times but the last time they went was over 40 years ago. I went to their hometown in December of 2019 with an aunt of mine. My parents have always made excuses on why they won’t go which I now think comes from a place of trauma. My motherland of Degollado, Jalisco is where I pull so much inspiration from now, and has really gotten me to this point of self-discovery over the last year. I had a very bizarre range of emotions being home in a place I had never been to before. I was able to finally experience the land of the four generations (at least) that came before me, who called that little town their home. To see the homes my parents grew up in, where all of life happened for my grandparents and great-grandparents was so overwhelming. To learn more about who my ancestors were helped inform so much of who I've been since that trip.
How do you think this experience is different for first-generation womxn?
I can only speak from my own experience as a first-generation Mexican American. Even with my parents being traditional but open-minded, there were so many expectations set upon and demanded from me. Go to school. Get straight A’s. Go to college. Become a doctor or a lawyer. Get married. Have kids. The end. As the oldest girl, I had to pave the way of what an alternate life could look like for myself and my two younger sisters. I had to show my parents what was possible while figuring that out on my own at the same time. Living in the constant stress that I was taking an alternate life route created a lot of anxiety for me. It created a lot of stress and embarrassment for my parents to have to share that I had dropped out of college and was “trying to figure it out.” It caused a lot of fights with my parents, and it caused a lot of stress for me to think about how I had wasted their hard-earned money by even going to college. I am a hard-worker because my parents taught me to be so, but also because I have always had to prove myself to my parents and then also to everyone else. Moving forward to where I am now, where I feel I have overcome these feelings and fears, have made my parents proud by being a successful business owner and creating my own lane, my first-generation womxn identity shifts to the issues within my lanes of work. In many cases, I am the only person of this identity in the room and so continues a new layer of “otherness.” The difference now is that through the years I have built my foundational community of people that look like me and have gone through and continue to go through these struggles. They provide a support system and resource bank to keep me going in a way that I didn’t have before.
What happened to you personally when the pandemic hit?
I got back from my Mexico trip to my parent’s home town mid-December 2019 and was super swamped with work. I had a NYE event to close out the year and had to start preparing for all of 2020’s events. My entire 2020 was filled with work which was so exciting because it was the second year of my event production business. When I started to have conversations with my clients about COVID-19 and how this would impact their events I have to laugh because I literally thought this would blow over in a few weeks. HA! By the end of March, all of my events were on pause, and by the end of April, it looked like the rest of 2020 would be a wash. In May and June, I really took the downtime to recalibrate and recenter myself. I was so overwhelmed digesting the realities of communities around the city and how the pandemic had really ravaged people’s lives in so many ways. Reading reports about food insecurity and understanding the already existing issues of food insecurity pre-pandemic really pushed me to figure out what I was going to do about it.
Both of my grandfathers were migrant farm workers in the 60s. They would leave their families in Mexico, eight months at a time, to work in the fields in California to provide a life for their families. Their work is also what allowed my family to be able to come to the US legally in the 70s. In Mexico, my great-grandparents, both maternal and paternal, grew and harvested their own and others’ land with all sorts of fruits and vegetables to provide for their family and make a living. My dad and aunts and uncles used to sell fruit at the plaza to make any sort of money from the time they were 5! I realized how ingrained food and providing food for others was in the life story of my family and of our culture in general. It’s also been a big part of my life working in the hospitality industry.
The idea for Grocery Run Club came from all of that. Jorge and I wanted to mobilize our community to help folks that were being impacted by the pandemic by providing access to fresh produce. The communities that were being hit hardest were those of marginalized folks. It was the neighborhood that raised me, Little Village, that needed support. We launched GRC in July, and since then have been able to support neighborhoods and community organizations throughout the South and West Sides of the city with over 30,000+ pounds of fresh produce, and thousands of other offerings (baby supplies, personal hygiene products, cleaning supplies) based on their needs. I’m so proud to be a vessel of this work and that our community has shown up for us so that we can show up for those who need it most.
Image Credit: @colorlamination (IG)
How were you changed politically, ideologically, personally as a result of the summer of uprisings following the murder of George Floyd and the reignited movement for social justice?
The amplification of social injustice during this time, injustice that I knew had been taking place long before it was recorded, that was taking place in my neighborhood, in my city, made me understand that I could no longer sit still and turn a blind eye to it. We started GRC around this time because it was our response to what we were witnessing. I know we wouldn’t be doing the work we’re doing now if it wasn’t for the unjust events of the summer. It drove me to create an actionable plan for what I could do as an individual, and what I could do with my resources and community. None of us are going to solve all of the world’s issues, but if we can pick a lane, or issues we want to see changed, and stick to it, I really do believe change can be made. GRC is my lane. It’s what I can contribute and how I hold myself accountable to make sure that I'm trying to make the city I live in more just, and resources more accessible.
Moving forward, what goals do you have for GRC? What goals do you have for continuing to grow into yourself and your politics?
GRC was born of such immediacy and although we know we will always be here to provide resources in an immediate manner, we’re excited to grow into avenues of education and community development. How can we provide tools and resources to the communities we serve so that they feel supported long-term? So that they have the things they need in their neighborhoods like access to fresh food, access to a job, access to a good education? We’re excited to start collaborating with other organizations that are trying to achieve this.
For me personally, this last year has built me into the truest version of myself. I am so proud of who I am because I’m so proud of who my ancestors are and everything they accomplished and sacrificed so I could be standing right here exactly as I am. I’m excited to take all that’s come before me and meet it with all that’s coming to me. It’s the responsibility and duty I hold as a first-generation womxn.
Images: Love Fridge Chicago, alt_ market, BEET Chicago
What can people do to help support GRC? Any other local groups you would like to encourage folks to support?
If you feel inclined to support our efforts and have the financial means to, you can set up a one-time or monthly donation on our website! www.groceryrunclub.com. Every single dollar we receive goes back into the communities we serve. You can also just spread the word of what we are doing, host a fundraiser for us, or see what our volunteer needs are that week! We also love shouting out the amazing work our partner orgs are doing.
***
Check out these other amazing Chicago organizations:
Bronzeville-Kenwood Mutual Aid
…and many more!