I am the daughter of Mexican immigrants. I am the daughter of two individuals who left a small town in the center of Mexico in search of a better life. I am the daughter of two Mexicans who crossed the Mexico-U.S. border, like millions of immigrants, in search of the highly acclaimed “American Dream.” I am a first generation American.

As a first generation American I understand the struggles that immigrants live in a country that is not their own. As a first generation American I live to uphold the sacrifices that my immigrant parents have and continue to make in order to give me the life that they could never achieve. I can understand the struggles of immigrants and other first generation Americans. Yet only others like me can understand what it really means to be first generation American.

Only we can understand what it is like living in two worlds at once and not being able to fully fit into either. It’s a never ending feeling of not fitting in and not being good enough. It’s being told by your Mexican family members that you aren't “Mexican” enough because you were born in the United States, making you a “gringa”—making you too American—. It’s being told by your American counterparts that you aren’t American enough because you are Latino— too Mexican—, because you speak another language, because you have a different culture. It’s being told by society that you can’t identify as Mexican and American, that you much chose one or the other.

Being first generation American means that you have to work harder than anyone else to be viewed like what you really are, in my case Mexican-American. Being a first generation American is difficult because you have to embrace both cultures without losing yourself in one more than the other. The most difficult part is that regardless of how much you try you are still criticized and deemed as not good enough, as not trying hard enough .

I admire and respect the culture in which I was raised in at home. I respect the language, the delicious food, the devotion to our Lady of Guadalupe, and the story of two immigrants who gave all for me. At the same time, I also respect the country in which I was born, where I received an education, and where I will hold a future. I respect both the Mexican and the American in me. I am proud and thankful for the family and life I was given and I am looking forward to the day that it is no longer so difficult to be a first generation American.

I hope that some day, other first generation Americans will not have to struggle like I have. I hope that some day first generation Americans will be able to fit in without being forced to chose how to identify. I hope some day first generation Americans will be able to share their stories and the stories of their families without having to prove themselves to anyone.

I am a first generation American. I am Mexican and I am American and I will not chose one over there other.