As another school year begins, students trudge to their classes and sit in relative silence as professors go through the class list, waiting to raise their hand or reply "Here!" when his or her name is called. I like to assume that for others, this is a quick process. I have never known that luxury, as every time my name is called, the class instructor repeats the name after my hand is raised. "That would be me, sir/ma'am," I politely answer as my arm is still extended in the air. I know this routine, I've been doing it for nearly two decades as teacher after teacher has glared at me and muttered, "Well, you certainly don't look Hispanic."

My ethnicity has been questioned for as long as I can remember. I don't have the characteristics that most Americans have come to assume all Latinos possess. When asking about my heritage, it is often assumed that I'm Irish on the grounds that I'm unnaturally pale and my hair is red. After disclosing that I'm Mexican-American, I find myself enveloped by cries of "No you're not!" and "I don't believe you."

My appearance has put me in a number of uncomfortable situations. In some cases, fellow Latinos make boorish remarks in Spanish, unaware that I can understand what they're saying. However, the positions I find myself in more often than not are instances in which others make Hispanophobic comments about everything from anchor babies to El Chapo. Nothing in the world compares to the look of sheer terror in their faces when I tell them that I'm Mexican or when I nonchalantly respond in Spanish.

It is utterly baffling when individuals, both strangers and friends alike, attempt to argue about my race and ethnicity. I'm very aware of the fact that I do not look biracial, a matter of contention that has caused countless delays when taking standardized tests, my box marked "multiracial" was always thought to be a mistake. After decades of interrogation, I've come to comprehend the meaning behind the questioning, something I believe is often overlooked by my cross-examiners. When someone tries to argue with a multiracial person that they "aren't really" their ethnicity, or that they "aren't like all the others," you inadvertently imply that one of his or her ethnic backgrounds is superior to the other. While it may not be your intent to belittle a complete stranger's ethnicity, race, and/or culture, that is indeed what it comes across as when you refuse to acknowledge that this stranger is proud of whatever counties their ancestors may have come from.

Despite some of the negative receptions that I have received over the past 23 years, I've never once been ashamed of my background. Having been brought up to appreciate my ancestors and all that they have done, I gladly tell anyone who asks (and those who don't ask but somehow find themselves trapped within hearing distance) my in-depth family history. While I may not look like the "stereotypical" Latina, I have always been, and will continue to be, proud to be Mexican-American.