OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD

Skin color
I am a person of color. I am a Mexican-American; three of my grandparents came from Mexico the fourth was born in Texas to a Mexican mother. My parents believed in education and we were all well educated.
Maybe that’s why I have often heard, “I didn’t know you were Mexican? You don’t look Mexican.” And I wonder, does being well educated makes me appear to these people as non-Mexican?
When I hear the comment I always try to smile. Meanwhile I think, what does a Mexican look like? If you watch any novellas on TV you’d have to think that Mexicans are tall, thin and light skinned. However, if you watch crime shows on TV then all Mexicans are gang bangers, with tattoos and baggy clothes.
It’s also funny to me when I hear a non-Mexican say, “You don’t look Mexican,” because other Mexicans know right away I’m Mexican. If I’m in the line at the Mexican grocery the clerk speaks to me in Spanish. It never occurs to her that I’m not Mexican and I don’t even speak Spanish.
Growing up in a predominately white neighborhood and going to an all-white school I was often judged or misjudged by the color of my skin.
“What part of Mexico are you from?” A teacher would ask. “The U.S. part.” I’d say to myself, while I politely tried to explain I was born in the United States and my parents were born here, and so on. Eventually I developed a hard shell to hide within and I developed an aversion to judging other people by appearance.
This has served me well in life, not only has it protected me but it has also allowed me to meet some incredible people that I might not have ever known had I judged them by appearance.
There was Richard; he looked like a homeless street person (before that description was part of the common vernacular). His clothes were ratty and dirty, he never combed his hair or appeared to have washed but he was the most incredible guitar player I’d ever met. I asked him why he didn’t straighten up his appearance and he said, “When I play no one notices how I look.” And he was right. His music was so fantastic that you did not really notice his appearance.
That is kind of like what my father tried to teach us, “If you’re the best, it doesn’t matter what color you are.” He wanted us to believe this whether he did or not. Because he also noted, “Because of your skin color, you have to be twice as good to get half the credit.”
It sounded like conflicting comments to me. If you are the best does skin color not matter? I don’t think that is true. And I don’t think my father thought it was true but he wanted us to believe it so we could try to become the best at whatever we chose to do.
It no longer bothers me that people make judgements based on my appearance. I wish we were all truly colorblind, but we aren’t and may never be. But it doesn’t matter to me. I am old, have had a successful life and was able to deal with all the discrimination based solely on my skin color. No, it no longer bothers me.
What does bother me are all the young people who face the same issues I did but who don’t have the support and love that I did. I worry that being pre-judged because of their skin color could be too much for them to handle. I worry that there are so many children of color that will never have a chance. Life is hard enough for all of us. Don’t make someone else’s life even harder by pre-judging.
Gabriel A. Fraire has been a writer more than 45 years. He can be reached through his website at: www.gabrielfraire.com.