UNO: A Reflection of My Personal Cultural Identity - Blake High School Capstone Keynote Speech 1/10/24

UNO Metaphor for Cultural Identity

Who has played UNO before? I like using UNO to explain tons of concepts, nature vs nurture, equity, and now cultural identity.  We are all born into life holding a unique deck of cards—a hand we didn’t choose, one that reflects circumstances outside our control. 

In this metaphorical game of UNO, our starting hand symbolizes our nature or the details of our identity we were born into: the genetic, environmental, and circumstantial factors that shape who we are from the start. Some people begin with all the tools for success—a skip, draw two, wild card—representing advantages like financial stability, supportive households, or access to education. Others, however, start with extra challenges, like holding 14 cards instead of 7, symbolizing inherited trauma, systemic inequities, or mental health predispositions. As the game unfolds, this is our nurture: the experiences we endure, and the influence this has on us. 

Life, like UNO, is unpredictable. Someone might throw a draw four your way, and suddenly, you’re overwhelmed. In those moments, we develop reactions—anger, resilience, or determination—that shape the player we become. 

What is this girl talking about? What does UNO have to do with any of this? WELL, let me explain. I wanted to use UNO to highlight an important idea: there are certain aspects of our lives that we just can’t change—like the context we were born into. Think about it: in UNO, you can’t change the cards you’re dealt and there are things you can't control like the way other players might skip your turn or hit you with the dreaded Draw 4. Similarly, in life, there are things we can’t control—like how other players play or the unexpected challenges we face (skip, draw 2 etc). But every day, we’re given the chance to play.

Throughout a game of UNO, there are moments when you’re so close to sitting on that one last card, ready to shout “UNO!” Then there are times when it feels like the entire deck is against you—you’ve got every red card imaginable, but you’re stuck drawing more and more, waiting for that one yellow card. Life works the same way. It ebbs and flows. Some days we feel on top of the world, and other days we’re scrambling, just trying to keep up. Ultimately, we’re all just doing our best to run out of cards—to succeed, whatever that means to us as individuals.

Now, let me ask you this: How would you describe yourself as an UNO player? Are you competitive, kind, maybe even cautious? Do you hesitate to play a Draw 4 because you don’t want to upset anyone? Or are you the kind of player who will absolutely destroy everyone at the table to win at all costs? Why do you play like that? Were you always that way? Or did you have a screaming match with your little brother during your last game and vow never to lose again?

Here’s my point: the way we play UNO is shaped by two things—who we are at our core and the experiences that have shaped us. And isn’t that what identity is all about? It’s a combination of what we were born with and what we’ve been through. The way we play with others—the strategies we choose, the risks we take, and the way we interact with the other players—is like our identity interacting with the world around us. 

So, as you play your hand and it starts to feel impossible to win, remember this: Your identity, like your game strategy, is uniquely yours. And just like in UNO, life will have its hard moments and its easier ones, but the most important thing is to keep playing. And here’s the key: you’re never truly stuck. You always have the ability to learn, change, and grow.

Your identity isn’t fixed—it’s constantly evolving. Sometimes, the best moments come when you stop overthinking your next move and simply let yourself play.

What is Cultural Identity?

Can someone define “Cultural Identity” as concise and simple as possible for me? 

• Cultural identity is the shared sense of belonging to a group based on common culture, traditions, language, and values.

Key Aspects of Cultural Identity:

Language: Shared means of communication.

Traditions: Common customs and rituals.

Values: Shared beliefs and ethics.

Belonging: Sense of group membership.

History: Shared heritage and experiences.

Symbols: Flags, icons, or artifacts representing identity.

Geography: Connection to specific places.

Religion: Shared spiritual beliefs or practices.

I struggled writing this because I don’t feel deeply connected to these aspects of my identity. 

I hesitate over the Hispanic box before checking white when filling out paperwork but otherwise I rarely think about my ethnicity in the sense of defining my identity. Except when I acknowledge the privilege that comes from being white, and the privilege in not worrying about my ethnicity at all. 

I am Cuban and Sicilian on my dad’s side, and Czech and German on my mother’s. 

I am proud to share that I am a fifth-generation Tampa native. My great-grandparents on my father’s side met while rolling cigars in Ybor City after immigrating from Cuba. On my mother’s side, my great-grandfather retired from MacDill Air Force Base.

The military has been a significant part of my identity. Growing up on base, I was exposed at a young age to discipline, the importance of service to others or a cause larger than yourself, and the understanding that family is often chosen rather than bound by blood. These principles remain deeply ingrained in who I am today. While it feels complex to claim a military affiliation as part of my identity, it has undeniably shaped me. Many of my aunts and uncles are "family by choice," relationships my mother made while working on base. They, too, are deeply connected to the military.

A military environment is what I was born into and raised in. Even though I’m not as directly involved now, it still influences who I am. For example, I arrived here early, I naturally shake hands when meeting people, and I default to "ma’am" and "sir" as a sign of respect. These habits and values are enduring reminders of my upbringing.

Religion was another facet of cultural identity that I also feel disconnected from. Despite my extended family attempting to pass Christianity onto me, I’ve never had religion, faith, or spirituality. When asked what I believe in, I say that I believe in myself. My freedom yet responsibility to make choices to benefit not only myself but others. 

When considering my cultural identity in the present tense I would say I have developed my identity predominantly from my experiences and how those have shaped me; however, I am aware that I have only had the experiences I have had because of the circumstances I was born into. 

My Identity

My most notable aspect of my identity is that I am a passionate advocate. I was not always outspoken about mental health, social issues, politics or even aware of them at all. 

I was born with a chemical predisposition to anxiety and depression, as mental illness is prevalent in my family; many of my relatives on both sides, including my parents, struggle with mental health challenges. While I wouldn’t consider my mental health diagnosis a core part of my identity, it has profoundly shaped my cultural identity and perception of it.

When I first began experiencing mental health challenges as a freshman in high school, I was able to seek treatment largely because of my cultural identity. In some cultures, mental health remains highly stigmatized, creating barriers to care. However, my parents supported my pursuit of therapy and medication—opportunities that were accessible to me due to my cultural identity. Being born into a middle-class family enabled me to afford these resources and prioritize my mental health.

I often say that I would not be who I am or where I am today without the countless individuals who went above and beyond to invest in my success. This has instilled in me a passion and purpose to do the same for others. A key aspect of my identity is being an advocate for youth, believing that every young person deserves not just to survive but to thrive.

My cultural identity is not rooted in traditional aspects like heritage or ethnicity, but in the privilege I’ve been afforded and how I choose to use it. I recognize the advantages I’ve had and see my identity as being shaped by a responsibility to advocate for equity. My sense of self is built on using my position to amplify voices and foster resilience in others.

Past to Present

Earlier, I mentioned how in UNO, the game changes, and we adapt how we play. Similarly, when I reflect on my cultural identity over time, it’s astounding how much it has evolved. With every passing year, the shifts in my identity seem to grow closer together and more significant. It feels like a bell curve—early in life, we rapidly evolve and change, reaching a peak of transformation around our 30s or 40s. After that, our identity often plateaus, and as we grow older, we can become more resistant to change, settling into our ways.

When I was your age, a key part of my identity was being a trumpet player with aspirations of becoming a music educator. But life dealt me a series of “draw fours” that upended my plans. The pandemic was one of those moments. It shook my identity as I made the difficult decision to change majors. At the time, it was deeply uncomfortable to question my self-perception and sense of purpose. Now, I see that the struggles I endured and the transformations I underwent during that period were invaluable in shaping the person standing before you today.

In high school, another significant aspect of my identity was my close connection to my family—my “village.” My sense of self was deeply intertwined with those relationships, and I lacked independence due to my co-dependence on them.

Since moving out and being five years removed from high school, I’ve changed dramatically—not physically, but emotionally and culturally. Living at home or attending the same school often keeps us in a bubble, but stepping out exposes us to other cultural identities. This exposure broadens our experiences and allows us to evolve.

Take traditions, for example. Growing up, I was required to follow holiday rituals like Christmas and Easter without fully understanding their religious significance—one had a bunny, the other Santa Claus. These traditions were just routines. Typically, Christmas meant two days of visiting four houses, including Noche Buena celebrations with my Cuban family and Christmas Day with my white family. However, this year, I chose to create my own traditions and redefine my identity. Instead of the usual festivities, I stayed home with my partner and his parents. We slept in, took naps, and ordered Chinese food. It felt like an ordinary Wednesday, and for me, that was liberating.

Taking control of my identity and freeing myself from familial expectations was empowering. And this applies far beyond holidays. As you grow older, you gain the freedom to explore and celebrate parts of your identity that you couldn’t before.

There are aspects of our cultural identity that are fixed and others that are fluid. You have the power to explore, learn, and grow into new versions of yourself. That’s what growing up is all about. Ultimately, you need to love yourself and embrace the world around you. By engaging in self-reflection and exploring your cultural identity, you’ve already taken the first step in this journey.

Reminder

In a school as diverse as this one, I know there are so many stories—each one unique, each one valid, and each one valuable. Whether your identity is rooted in centuries-old traditions or shaped by your experiences here and now, it matters. And as you move forward in life, don’t be afraid to embrace it, to share it, and to let it grow.