Serina Payan Hazelwood {she/her/ella}, MAIS, CSE
Positionality Statement
Serina Payan Hazelwood {she/her}. I am a survivor of the historical and current impacts of colonialism. I am a cis, queer, Indigenous-Chicana. I am a daughter, mother, sister, wife, prima, friend, scholar, student, educator, and community gatherer. I am a community member within the ancestral lands of the Hohokam (literal translation,those who have passed; Phoenix, Arizona) and Kumeyaay (Rosarito, Baja California, Mexico). My mother’s ancestral roots extend to the sacred lands of the Pueblo Peoples (New Mexico); Chihuahua, Mexico; and Spain. My father and his ancestors are settler-colonists who emigrated from England, Scotland, and Ireland.
My first language is English, as my mother's first colonized language (Spanish) was slapped from her mouth, while her second colonized language (English) was shoved down her throat while attending the educational school system. Our Indigenous language was suppressed from our memory. I am actively practicing the colonized language of Spanish to connect with my community and ancestors.
I am a first-generation college graduate earning a Master of Arts degree at 49. I am enrolled in the Sustainability in Education doctoral program at Prescott College and hope to complete by the Spring of 2026.
I am able-privileged in that I can regularly and easily access most of my needs in society. My current socio-economic status is that of privilege based on total household income; access to education, food, clean-ish water and healthcare; and my status as a dual resident between the United States and Mexico.
I was birthed in the barrio of Maryvale known as the "west side" (or "wesss soid"), where the water was poisoned, and la Raza reclaimed the homes with pink paint and front lawns adorned with alters. I had the privilege of being oblivious to my father's working-class privileges as a white, cis, charismatic male entrepreneur. My mother was a homemaker for most of my upbringing and assisted my father with his business. Growing up in the liminal spaces between my mother's Catholic, Mexican-American family and my father's non-existent white relatives left me feeling like I was not welcome in either space, but belonged to both. I never seemed "Mexican enough" for the Latino/Chicano community that I grew up in, and white folk either erased my Indigeneity or my Indigeneity was exotified or tokenized. I was welcome to stand against the wall silently to observe the table of power because I was "white enough" to be privy to the racism behind closed doors
Reflecting on my proximity to power is an ongoing, life-long process. I acknowledge that my position and proximity to power provide me the lenses in which I experience the world. I acknowledge that my proximity to power has caused harm. I pray for guidance from my ancestors as I navigate the unlearning of oppressive systems of colonialism that include internalized racism, supremacy, and capitalism.
