A Likely Story | Finding multiculturalism within myself

I am Costa Rican. I am Jewish. I am Americanized. When in the United States, I am told that I am Latino. Which is to say that I am a Penn student unsure of what bit of my identity comes first and afraid that being everything at once is a little too challenging for me. Coming from a country with a fairly homogenous population, I had never been confronted with questions about my cultural identity in any sort of significant way before my time at Penn.

Despite my having a fairly messy mix of Polish and Lithuanian Jews, Colombians and entirely Costa Rican Costa Ricans among my ancestors, my physical appearance, heritage or exact origins have rarely fueled a discussion. These questions are not really asked in my country or, at the very least, not with the same intensity. Yet, having American friends whose parents hail from Puerto Rico, England, Pakistan and Sierra Leone, multiculturalism struck me as something to be aware of early in my Penn career. Although I have yet to act upon my curiosity, the role of multiculturalism at Penn continues to interest me even as a jaded junior.

I’ve had a work-study job at the Greenfield Intercultural Center since my sophomore year. It is a place dedicated to fostering intercultural understanding on campus. The GIC also houses the United Minorities Council, a student coalition of Penn’s minority student organizations responsible for events like Unity Week and Celebration of Cultures.

Considering how worthwhile I find the subject at hand and how saddened I am each time I meet people whose parents come from a Spanish-speaking country but who don’t speak the language themselves, having the chance to be at the place at Penn where these things are discussed has been a real privilege.

And yet, I’ve always felt very guilty about never becoming involved in the activities organized by the GIC or the UMC in any substantial way. Trying to come up with a reason for my apparent lack of interest when it comes to real participation, I stumbled upon a realization. In a way that I can’t fully explain, I am unable to assume my position as a member of a minority, despite knowing that I belong to one the minute I step into this country. (Having to check the Hipanic/Latino box whenever I fill a form reminds me of this often enough.)

At the end of the day, I am Latin American and not Latino — two surprisingly different categories separated by a distinction that has to do not so much with geographical place of origin but with what the process of growing up in each place entails. For example, I have never been forced to negotiate my identity, until recently had only one culture to deal with and get to go back home at the end of each semester to the comfort of belonging to a majority.

I do not consider myself a member of the Latino community, but this distinction is somewhat meaningless. Remaining uninvolved, regardless of origin or nationality, has been a mistake. The idea that one has to be or feel like part of a minority to participate in any of the cultural activities on campus is an incorrect assumption and a form of apathy that I suspect proves harmful to cultural work performed both on- and off-campus.

Still, all of the people that I know who are involved in cultural work are part of a minority themselves. This drives me to believe that many other Penn students have also failed to understand that “if you do not belong to a minority, then you don’t really have to care” is dangerous thinking at an institution such as Penn, which is so profoundly characterized by multiculturalism.

Sara Brenes-Akerman is a College junior from San José, Costa Rica. Her email address is sarabre@sas.upenn.edu. A Likely Story appears on Wednesdays.

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