Starting college gives you an opportunity to reinvent yourself. We’re all trying new things like sneaking our way into a mod party through a bathroom window, joining the Outdoor Adventures club, or dying our hair blonde, auburn, bright red—anything far from what our parents would approve of.
I’ve often heard people say they want to be more confident so they’ll feel good about themselves. But, what do you do when you put on that outfit that gets you numerous compliments, take the risk you’ve always wanted to, go to the gym consistently, and still feel like crap about yourself? We’re led to think that self-confidence will result in self-worth when that just isn’t the case. Confidence, if anything, could lead to an inflated ego if not kept within reason. On the days where you feel your worst, you still deserve food, kind words to yourself, and assurance that the value of your existence goes beyond looking attractive.
Easier said than done …
When everyone around you is beautiful, blonde, slim, blue-eyed, white, and always happens to be ready for a workout, how do you grow confidence? I realize I just described a stereotypical white girl, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that this is what young girls of all races have seen portrayed as beauty in the mass media. To keep it in a smaller scope, this is what students at BC picture to be the epitome of a BC woman. And if you don’t fit this mold you might be left questioning, over and over, why you feel like you’re not enough. Until it’s not a question, it’s a fact—you’re not enough.
I’m Chicana. But as my Mexican parents would say, “tengo el nopal en la frente (I have the nopal on my forehead).” My physical appearance screams Hispanic. I’ve always been surrounded by people who look like me and who sound like me. Now, I’m at a predominantly white institution (PWI) where my last name isn’t pronounced correctly until the third try–Piedra, Piedra, Piedra. The culture shock hit hard and altered the way I viewed myself. I saw myself as an average girl with some quirkiness here and there—like my loud laugh, my not-so-small nose, and my hairy arms. Here, my quirks no longer seem like something that keeps me uniquely beautiful. They seem like defects I need to strip myself of. Here, I feel below average.
¿Dentro de esta universidad donde queda la hermosura de mis curvas, de mi pelo grueso y negro, de mi nariz no tan pequeña, o de mi piel de miel?
You may not have understood my previous statement. Maybe there was some type of disconnect? This is the disconnect I have felt on campus. For you it was a few seconds. For me, it can last for weeks on end.
I knew the beauty of my features within me, but it didn’t feel like it when I first arrived at BC. I walked around these halls thinking I’m not worth looking at. Days and weeks went on where I’d look at the white girls wishing I had their features to feel pretty. I’d like to say that it was as easy as a mindset change, but it wasn’t. The fact is I can’t change who I am. When attending a PWI as a person of color, it’s easy to suffocate yourself in thoughts that make you question your validity on campus and your worth.
The reality is, yes, you will be exposed to more white people than people of color at BC as you walk to your next class. There are, however, more people like you on campus, especially at the Thea Bowman AHANA and Intercultural Center. I found strength in familiar faces, familiar mannerisms, and backgrounds I could relate to, like being raised by immigrant parents. Being a minority doesn’t equate to being inferior physically or intellectually.
There’s something to be said about my gloriously muddy eyes, the shielding hair on my arms, my style, the resilience coursing through my veins passed down from past generations, my accent, and my way of being. It’s not ugly. It’s not uncivilized. It’s not something to look down on. I’m not ugly. I’m not uncivilized. I’m not not someone to look down on.
My words might not heal your aching confidence or self-worth, but I hope they—even for a split second—gently ease you into a hug of comfort, safety, and empowerment. I’m not white, and I am pretty.
La hermosura de tus curvas? Aquí está.
La hermosura de tu pelo grueso y negro? Aquí está.
La hermosura de tu nariz? Aquí está.
La hermosura de tu piel de miel? Aquí está para quedarse.
La hermosura de tu piel oscura como la noche? Aquí está para quedarse.
Y la hermosura no es lo suficiente. No es todo. Espero que encuentres consuelo en tu cultura y en la relatividad de nuestros sentimientos. Hay belleza en nuestra cultura. Cuando no puedas ver esa belleza, tu belleza, espero que sepas que todavía guardas valor.
Featured Graphic by Annie Corrigan/ Heights Editor
