What? But you don’t look Cuban!

Beatrice Miranda,
Grand Terrace, CA.

When I’m overheard speaking in Spanish. Really? My response… Yes, I’m Cuban and it was my first language. (As I’m thinking, well, what am I supposed to look like?) But you’re so WHITE! Yes I know…I own a mirror, thanks. (As I cringe at being compared to say a sheet, a toilet bowl, or maybe an egg) and again I respond “well yes, my background is primarily of Spaniard descent and most of my immediate family is light skinned). Occasionally I well get “oh…I knew you were “something” I just didn’t know what”. Ummm…ok, first I’m white, now an object as opposed to an college grad, nurse, mother, friend etc and a pretty decent human being? Okay. “Well you have good hair, and your freckles are cute”. Well thank You, thank you very much. (good hair? ¿que carajo?). I can also shake it to Celia Cruz, cook a mean arroz con frijoles, and wear my heritage proudly regardless of your opinion, approval, or lack thereof. Thank you in advance for your cooperation, vaya con Dios.

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