I remember when I was a little girl I used to wish with all my might and heart that I could be White.  My name means White, you know.  Blanca.  God, what I would give to have blonde hair and blue eyes when I was a little girl.  Now, I feel ashamed of the fact that I used to feel that say, and I don’t really want to be White anymore, but I do feel sad about the word Hispanic because I don’t even feel that.   In fact, I don’t even speak Spanish, and whenever I get around other Hispanic people, I feel like hiding when they start speaking Spanish, afraid they’re going to think I’m not a real Latina.