2006/11/18 22:01
Brown Out
The second-most culturally incongruous I've ever felt was working at a concession stand at today's Florida Classic.
As a product of Latino and Caucasian upbringings, I've never felt particularly out of place anywhere on this continent. In Puerto Vallarta I look like everybody else, but in Vancouver they talk like I do (though with more "eh"s). I'm not totally inconspicuous in the North -- they do periodically notice I'm not the same homogeneous white as everyone else, particularly when every time I fly through Minneapolis I am "randomly selected" for a more in-depth search of my belongings. For the most part, though, I feel like I fit in.
Not at the Florida Classic. Maybe you're unfamiliar; I'll clue you in. Every year, Bethune-Cookman College and Florida A&M University meet on the neutral ground of the Citrus Bowl to decide which is the state's superior traditionally black college. Whichever band rocks the house louder walks away with the honors. I hear there's a football game, too, when the bands aren't playing.
My hometown of Albuquerque does not have what you'd call a strong African-American community. There were maybe thirty black kids in my 2,500-student high school. Orlando has a greater saturation, but they tend to live on the west side of the city, probably to avoid the rednecks on my side. Working at a black college football game on the black side of the city put me into the greatest saturation of black people I've ever had the opportunity to experience. My drum corps cohort co-workers comprised the most white people I saw all day. There were three Latinos, including me, and only one wasn't working.
They shouldn't, but these situations really make me aware of the color of my skin. Growing up in a town that was about equally Latino and white, I never really gave it a thought. But when I'm surrounded by people who are neither, I suddenly remember that my biraciality does not automatically fit me into every category. I'll be the first to argue there shouldn't even be categories for such a thing, but I can't do anything about historical idiocy.
Now you want to know what my most skin-sensory experience was. Try being the only Hispanic in Japan for a year. You want to talk about racial homogeneity ... whoo, baby. They don't even let Koreans in. I saw one Asian woman at the game today, and I almost yelled at her, "Yeah, how do YOU like it?"
As a product of Latino and Caucasian upbringings, I've never felt particularly out of place anywhere on this continent. In Puerto Vallarta I look like everybody else, but in Vancouver they talk like I do (though with more "eh"s). I'm not totally inconspicuous in the North -- they do periodically notice I'm not the same homogeneous white as everyone else, particularly when every time I fly through Minneapolis I am "randomly selected" for a more in-depth search of my belongings. For the most part, though, I feel like I fit in.
Not at the Florida Classic. Maybe you're unfamiliar; I'll clue you in. Every year, Bethune-Cookman College and Florida A&M University meet on the neutral ground of the Citrus Bowl to decide which is the state's superior traditionally black college. Whichever band rocks the house louder walks away with the honors. I hear there's a football game, too, when the bands aren't playing.
My hometown of Albuquerque does not have what you'd call a strong African-American community. There were maybe thirty black kids in my 2,500-student high school. Orlando has a greater saturation, but they tend to live on the west side of the city, probably to avoid the rednecks on my side. Working at a black college football game on the black side of the city put me into the greatest saturation of black people I've ever had the opportunity to experience. My drum corps cohort co-workers comprised the most white people I saw all day. There were three Latinos, including me, and only one wasn't working.
They shouldn't, but these situations really make me aware of the color of my skin. Growing up in a town that was about equally Latino and white, I never really gave it a thought. But when I'm surrounded by people who are neither, I suddenly remember that my biraciality does not automatically fit me into every category. I'll be the first to argue there shouldn't even be categories for such a thing, but I can't do anything about historical idiocy.
Now you want to know what my most skin-sensory experience was. Try being the only Hispanic in Japan for a year. You want to talk about racial homogeneity ... whoo, baby. They don't even let Koreans in. I saw one Asian woman at the game today, and I almost yelled at her, "Yeah, how do YOU like it?"
I actually know the feeling. I never really think about race. But when we were in California last month (or whenever the hell it was), I couldn't help but notice the large populous of Asians. I never think bad things about other races, and agree that there shouldn't be categories, but when you see a large amount of a race that you almost never see, it gets you thinking about how little you've actually seen them. I'm just glad we were raised the right way and don't think bad things about them. I'd hate to have grown up in backwoods deep south and have some sort of deep hatred for a race just because they're not like me. Being different is what makes things fun and interesting, because you get to learn so many new things from people about the way they see life. And I'm rambling so I'll shut it now.
# posted by 
: 11/20/2006 12:55 AM
: 11/20/2006 12:55 AM
Living in the AL and GA for some years in my youth, I attended some schools in which I was the only white girl in the class. I got to see the other side of the issue. I have alot of thoughts and opinions on this topic that I don't express to most people because it brings up alot of heated arguments. I try very hard to accept people for who they are and not their skin tone or their heritage based on my own experiences.
Post a Comment
# posted by : 11/20/2006 11:23 AM
: 11/20/2006 11:23 AM << Home
