I’ve spent enough time around my parents to know that accents affect how someone is perceived. But unlike my parents, whose Uruguayan accents give them an air of mystique, my accent is not one of speech; it hovers above the “í” in my name. It separates Martin from Martín and marks the boundary between two intertwined personas.
“So one of your parents is Uruguayan and the other is Jewish?” I am so used to this question that I almost answer it robotically: “No, both of my parents are Uruguayan Jews.” Americans, including other Jews, are often puzzled by my response, unaware that there are Jews in Latin America. Since Kindergarten, when my teacher first called me Martin, I have been unintentionally living my public life as a regular White-American. My complexion, lack of accent (speech-wise,) and circle of White-American friends make it so my Uruguayan background appears as, at most, a footnote. What my peers fail to connect is the far-reaching effect that my upbringing has on my actions and worldview.
My name is just one way in which I have assimilated to White-American culture. As one of few South Americans in my town, my Latinx-Jewish identity was split early on, and I gravitated towards the latter. I attended a Jewish day school until eighth grade, where I was surrounded exclusively by American Jews whose cultural and religious practices were different from my family’s. My public high school was socially divided between American Jews and Mexican- Americans; whereas all persons from Spanish-speaking countries are often lumped together as “Latinx,” I felt little to no cultural connection to my Mexican peers beyond the language we spoke at home; I continued to associate with people who looked, spoke, and acted “like me.” This trend continued into college, where I only vaguely realized that Martín, my Hispanic side, shaped who I was below the surface.
Although I could not pinpoint how or why, I realized early on that I interacted with the world differently than my peers: I was more tolerant, easygoing, and independent. One key difference is my approach to interpersonal relationships. While my American friends were raised to speak to strangers in a formal tone, Uruguayans treat strangers like long-time friends. This personal approach to social interactions explains my tendency to nonchalantly talk, joke, and be myself around people regardless of our level of acquaintance.
While many of my friends got entry-level jobs after college, I am taking this year off to work odd jobs, travel, and develop my writing, all while driving Uber in the city of Chicago. Since I see little barriers between myself and others, I have had profound conversations with countless passengers from all walks of life. Just in the past week, I’ve driven an airline pilot, a comedian, and an NBA star, all of whom have unique life stories. I am currently writing a book on my experience as a driver, in which I relay and analyze conversations I have had with passengers. The book focuses on the diversity of Chicago, an informally segregated city, while also looking at how being placed in a one-on-one situation with a stranger creates a unique, non-judgmental atmosphere. Those very qualities which set me apart earlier in life have led me to be more open-minded, outgoing, and confident in pursuing my own ambitions.
You may be wondering whether there was a point at which I connected the pieces; a moment when I realized that my Latin upbringing was responsible for my eccentricity. Although it slightly taints the story’s melodramatic flow, there was no epiphany; rather, it was something that I put together as I came into my own and began to evaluate my surroundings. Growing up, I often internalized my differences as flaws, but I am now confident in questioning cultural norms and being different. Although I may seem to be a regular Jewish kid from Highland Park, how I negotiate my existence is simultaneously far more complex. Discovering my upbringing’s impact led me to constantly push to be independent; to not be held back by social conventions; to ask my own questions and seek my own answers.
