I've been called lots of things. Spanish, Hispanic, Latin, Latino, Cuban, Cuban-American, Puerto Rican, Spic. Everybody knows what the last word means. As for the others, there is much confusion. Here's my guide for the bewildered. Hispanic: An imprecise term that glosses over important distinctions. A Maine lobsterman lives in a world unlike that of a hillbilly from West Virginia or a Jewish lawyer from Long Island. In the same sense, an Argentinian of Welsh blood in Chicago, a black Dominican in the Bronx, a Spanish Basque in South Florida and a Guatemalan of Mayan ancestry in San Diego are different from each other. Hispanics come to this country with a myriad of national, class and racial traditions. Still, the colonial experience with Spain created a common history, language, and certain cultural affinities. So although the term Hispanic is not ideal it remains useful, especially in the United States. It is the best word to use when we need to group those whose ancestors are from Spanish-speaking countries. Latin/Latino: Many people of Latin American origin object to the use of "Hispanic" because it links them to Spain and the barbarity of the Conquistadores. They prefer to be described either by their own nationality or as Latins or Latinos. But the Spanishness of Latin America is historical fact. Legitimate resentments notwithstanding, Hispanics offended by an association with Spain are negating part of their own culture. Besides, the word Latin is even more inexact than the word Hispanic, and no less Europeanizing. Its roots are in Rome, the power that conquered what is now Spain, Italy and France. Francois Mitterrand is as Latin as Cesar Chavez. The offshoot "Latino" is much worse. When a non-Hispanic calls me a Latino I hear a patronizing attempt to imitate the Spanish language. Latin American: Although I don't like the "Latin" part of it it's too late to do anything about it. While Hispanic/Latin/Latino are still fighting it out, Latin American has gained worldwide acceptance. I use it to describe people who live in, well, Latin America; I use Hispanic to describe the former Latin Americans who now make their home in the United States. That gives me a nice distinction. Spanish: The word Hispanic wasn't used much in my high school, even though the majority of kids were Spanish-speaking. The term in vogue to describe Cubans, Colombians, etc., was "Spanish." The reason is that saying Hispanic can in some situations be a bit affected, a tad too self-conscious. Manhattan has Spanish Harlem, not Hispanic Harlem. Similarly, Bruce Springsteen wisely sings of "Spanish Johnny." "Hispanic Johnny" just doesn't sound right in a rock song. Nowadays, though, I try not to use Spanish in place of Hispanic. One may speak Spanish, drink Spanish wine, or be a Spanish man from Madrid. But being a Spanish man from El Salvador doesn't quite make it. Still, in everyday conversation I sometimes catch myself saying that so-and-so is Spanish when I meant Hispanic. That's okay. At times you need to give a little on exactitude to lose a little in pomposity. Sometimes you'll need to refer to the specific nationality, in which case more generic terms are wrong. For instance, Cinco de Mayo is a Mexican or Mexican-American celebration, not a Hispanic one. It can also be called a Chicano celebration. Chicanos are Americans of Mexican ancestry. Other Hispanics, even Mexicans in Mexico, are not. Then there is Hispano, not to be confused with Hispanic or Chicano. Hispanos are those Hispanics in the American Southwest who take pride in being descendants of the Spaniards _ as opposed to later Mexican immigrants _ who settled Arizona, California, New Mexico and Texas more than 350 years ago. A big question is hyphens. When does a Chilean become a Chilean-American? Upon the official act of acquiring U.S. citizenship? Is it a matter of personal outlook? Some cases are fuzzy, some are clear. I don't know how I would describe my father; I certainly see myself as a Cuban-American. My 90-year-old aunt has been in this country more than 20 years, but I wouldn't call her anything but Cuban, plain and simple. On second thought, I do call her something else. She is my Tia Nana. Her individuality is more important than any ethnic label you or I can come up with. Roger E. Hernandez is an adjunct member of the journalism faculty at Fairleigh Dickinson University and Bloomfield College in New Jersey. Born in Cuba, he came to the United States in 1965 when his parents were exiled by Fidel Castro.