"...They Will Not Be Judged by the Color of Their Skin..."

I think I was in the second or third grade the first time it happened.  There I was in a Catholic school girl uniform with pigtails in my hair...I was filling something out, when I came across the question for the first time:  What is your race?  Check one box.

•  White
•  Black
•  Hispanic
•  Asian
• Other

I raised my hand.  "Excuse me, Ms..." I asked hesitantly, "I don't know how to answer this question."  She said very quickly, "You're Hispanic, check the third one."  It was the first time I was aware I was, well, anything.  Until then I was blind, and it was the people who had a problem with color.  For the rest of my life, I was told and trained to check off "Hispanic" on any and all high school applications,college applicatons, and job applications.  I don't want the job because they have to meet a quota of how many minorities are hired!  I want to be hired because I am the BEST qualified for the job! Why do they want to know?  Why is it necessary.  While I am not against Affirmative Action in the least, and I understand that it is a way to ensure that minorities are represented, accepted and part of the work force in a respecful way, it truly irritates me that any of us at all must answer such a question.  Whenever I see that question, I cringe. I am NOT at all ashamed of my heritage, but I've always seen myself as a 100% American.  I was born here.  I am proud to be of Puerto Rican (mother's side) and of Cuban (father's) heritage...I love our language, although admittedly not fluent. I love our music. I love our dances. I love our  passion for our food, culture and I love how loud in speech and in dress we can be, lol....

I was in Fourth Grade when I asked a teacher a question, wanting to learn and understand something in class.  As I walked out of the class, I overheard the teacher say something I wasn't meant to hear.  It was something about "well these spics don't even know how to use the English language, and that's why they'll never amount to anything."  Yes, she was VERY ignorant, but it was in hearing that sentence that I've worked hard to be intelligent, to excel in my classes, to speak English properly, to write and read.  That ignorant statement fueled me to prove her wrong.  However, I don't want to spend the rest of my life "proving" people.  My character, my behavior and how I treat people should be enough. I should not HAVE to mention my race in addition to those things.

The day before yesterday, I was filling out the 2010 Census.  Just before question #8, there is a note: "NOTE:  Please answer BOTH Question 8 about Hispanic Origin and Question 9 about race.  For this census, Hispanic origins are not races."  Question 8: Is person 1 of Hispanic, Latino, or Spanish Origin?  Question 9:  What is Person 1's race?

• White
• Black, African Am. or Negro
• American Indian or Alsaka Native, 
• Etc

Huh??  So all my life, I mark Hispanic as my race, and now it is not a recognized race?  I understand that within the next 5-10 years, it is speculated that Hispanics will the leading minority in the country...is there some unspoken fear?  And if so, why?  Thanks to my research, books I've read, and a show called Platanos & Collard Greens, I have since learned that Cubans are mixed as the Europeans brought Africans to Haiti and Cuba during the slave trade, and the same happened when Spain took over Puerto Rico...we "hispanics" are a blending of White European AND African.  What did I do?  I wrote a letter to my local Senator, Congressman and out of anger, I checked them all off AND made my own little box  marked "Hispanic."  I am everything...I am human - I cry real tears, I shed red blood, and I feel all the emotions that we all feel.  To this day Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s words STILL ring true:

"...that they wil not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character."        

More Humble Pie, Please?

Still sick, coughing up a lung at this point, but I think the new medication is beginning to work.  Got dressed, facebooked, myspaced, tweeted and flew out the door to go to work. I was assigned to assist the Haitian Congregation of the Good Samaritan Church in the Bronx, from 12pm - 6pm.  I was to go there, and call into the station reaching out to the listeners and asking them to bring donations.  Turns out these donations are for Haitians in the community who are stranded here.  They were visiting family here before the earthquake hit Haiti, and they are now forced to stay in NY.  They're completely unprepared:  no winter coats, not enough toiletries.  Some cannot even get a job while they're here due to lack of proper documentation.  I was told it costs almost $500 just to assist one person, one person!!!  

I was to call once an hour.  That's all I really needed to do.  I was moved by the interns who work at the station.  They were greeting passers-by with big smiles in spite of the cold.  I decided to go out and help.  At first I was surprised at my initial shyness.  It is a bit awkward asking strangers for money.  Hm.  Is that how homeless people feel when they ask?  I was getting too cold, my chest hurting from the cold dry air seeping into my phelgm filled lungs.  I'm sorry - was that too graphic?  LOL.  Well, I almost couldnt' feel my toes, and my feet were killing me about 2 hours in.  "That's it!"  I told myself. "I'm going back inside..." and then I was appalled by my own thought:  "I don't need to be doing this."  I had a diva moment - an ugly diva moment.  And then I watched her...this woman from the church...a stranger.

She had to be in her 50's or so, maybe 60's...right around mom's age.  There she was in a thin coat, literally running up to people from across the street with her little bag.  "Donations, please?  Can you help the Haitian people?"  I watched as she ran to the next person and the next, with questioning,  hopeful eyes.  And then, unexpectedly, she humbled me. She was crying.  She UNDERSTOOD the needs of these victims.  She was feeling with them, for them. She KNEW how much they needed because she'd been working with the families directly trying tirelessly to get them food, shelter, jobs, money, paper credentials.  I felt worse than ever.  I was ashamed of myself.  And she changed my mind.

I sucked it up, went to my car, put on my sneakers and got to work.  About an hour before we were done, a big Frito Lay truck came with a  LOAD of boxes with a little bit of everything; a school teacher brought along what his students had donated.  That last hour was a hard one.  The sun was going down.  We were all frozen; the running had slowed to a walk; we had become almost silent, but we went until 6pm.  

My fingers were curled and frozen stiff.  I think I dropped my nose.  And we all went inside and counted what we had collected $416.70. A great effort, but it costs $500 per person to help.  This woman was grateful  She hugged me, thanked us all and smiled.  I thanked her too - for reminding me that giving of one self is more important than feeling comfortable...she served me a piece of humble pie...and it tasted GOOD!!! 

If you would like to help the Haitian Congregation of Good Samaritan Church, they still welcome your cash donations, non-perishable foods, baby supplies, medical supplies, first aid supplies, and outerwear such as coats, gloves, boots, hats, etc.  661 East 219th Street, Bronx, NY  718-881-3779. Please help them.  Until today I didn't realize how big the need is.  Thank you and be blessed!!!