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“For several years, I struggled to pass as a native, fell silent when I had no cultural capital to contribute to the conversation, which was most of the time. People called me shy, and I thought of myself that way. But I wasn't. Rather, I was incognito, unknowable -- strategically so, and it was a strategy born of shame and desperation, of the felt sense that who I really was would disturb people too much to let me stay. I was a stranger in a strange land, a trailer-trash girl from a fucked-up background whose test scores and polite smile and diligence let her slip inoffensively upward.” — Lorraine López
For several years, I struggled to pass as a native, fell silent when I had no cultural capital to contribute to the conversation, which was most of the time. People called me shy, and I thought of myself that way. But I wasn't. Rather, I was incognito, unknowable -- strategically so, and it was a strategy born of shame and desperation, of the felt sense that who I really was would disturb people too much to let me stay. I was a stranger in a strange land, a trailer-trash girl from a fucked-up background whose test scores and polite smile and diligence let her slip inoffensively upward.