Being Latino

Being Latino in the United States is a fascinating experience, full of contrasts and lessons. We come here with dreams, with the desire to grow, to contribute, to be part of something bigger. But we also bring our history, our culture, everything that makes us who we are. And in this encounter with a new society, sometimes we realize it’s not so easy to truly understand each other.

It’s not that we are so different, but we come from a world where dynamics work differently. Where a hug is a common greeting, where speaking loudly doesn’t mean anger, where family isn’t just mom, dad, and siblings, but also cousins, uncles, grandparents, neighbors, and even the closest friends. Where conversations can last without rush because the time spent with others is as valuable as any other responsibility.

Here, on the other hand, we find a more structured society, with defined schedules and more cautious interactions. And while we try to adapt, we often wonder if the distance we feel is because we haven’t yet learned all the rules or simply because we don’t know how to cross the invisible barrier that sometimes seems to separate us.

We want to be seen beyond the stereotypes. We want people to understand that when we speak with passion, we’re not arguing; that when we get too close, we’re not invading personal space, but expressing closeness. When we say, “come to my house,” we really mean it—not just as an empty courtesy. For us, hospitality is sacred—a gesture that goes beyond obligation.

We cherish community life, human connection, a sense of belonging. So, if sometimes we seem too effusive or insistent, it’s not because we want to impose our way of being, but because that’s how we understand the world. We love to share, talk, ask questions. It’s not intrusive curiosity—it’s genuine interest. We want to know people not just as coworkers or neighbors, but as human beings with stories, joys, and struggles.

Sometimes we feel out of place in environments where individualism predominates. We wonder how to make friends in a setting where relationships seem to take longer to form, where a simple “how are you?” rarely turns into a real conversation about how we truly feel. We adapt, yes, but we’d also like to meet halfway every now and then.

We don’t want anyone to change for us, just as we don’t want to lose what makes us Latinos. What we seek is common ground—a space where we can learn from each other without any way of being seeming too strange. We want people to understand that our joy isn’t naivety, our warmth isn’t lack of seriousness, and our expressiveness isn’t disrespect. We want them to see the richness in our differences, the stories in every accent, every custom, every gesture we bring with us.

Because at the end of the day, we’re all looking for the same thing: to feel included, to connect, to share moments that make life more meaningful. No matter where we come from, in the end, we are people eager to laugh, to learn, and to build relationships that go beyond the surface. And if we give ourselves the chance to truly meet, to know each other beyond what seems obvious, we’ll realize there’s far more that unites us than separates us.

So, if you ever meet a Latino who seems too enthusiastic, too talkative, too expressive—don’t see it as something strange. It’s simply our way of saying: “Here I am, I want to know you, I want to share this space with you.” Because for us, life is better lived together.