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Jokes Can Be Just As Harmful

Skyla Gochenour,
8th Grade Holland New Tech High School,
Holland, MI.

Every day there are supposed “jokes” batted back and forth between man every day. While many of these jokes are seemingly harmless, they can really hurt people. Especially people like me. Since I have lighter skin it is impossible to tell that I am Mexican, with the only thing to prove it being several of my other family members. I do not speak Spanish, I do not like tacos, and I certainly do not fit the Mexican stereotype at all. Due to my paler skin, people may say a joke or two directed towards Mexicans unknowingly, or in even more serious cases- racial remarks. When I hear this, I always feel upset, they are insulting my mom, my grandma, my grandpa, my cousins and even my best friends. While you would expect them to fall silent in guilt after I tell them that I am Mexican many people do the opposite. A common response would be “Good, I needed someone to mow my lawn.” or, “So you like Tacos?” I have had to deal with this for my entire life and I am sick and tired of it. Even if it may be a “joke”, it is not funny at all. We don’t all eat tacos, we won’t mow your lawns for free, we are not all illegal immigrants. We are all people, we have hobbies, interest, and everything you have. So what makes us so different?

#HollandNewTech

No offense BUT, what are you?

26924110150872249435770153068562-2317892_p9Francesca Sam-Sin,
Katy, TX.

“No offense BUT, what are you?” That’s usually how the conversation about my race begins.

When I arrived in the U.S. in the 80’s I was really surprised by the emphasis on race. The first time someone asked what “race” I was, it took me a minute to understand exactly what they were referring to. Race? A potato sack race? A sprinter? A distance runner? OH! My ethnicity. Wow! I had never been asked that before. I was born in Holland, raised in Suriname (Dutch Guyana). In simplistic American terms my mom is White and my dad, Black. In cultural and historical terms, my mom is the product of a French father and Dominican mother-my father is the product of a Creole mother and Black and Chinese father. I grew up knowing my culture, my ethnic background…never a color. You were either Dutch or Surinamese, not black or white. So, when people say: “No offense but, what are you?!” I give them a history lesson, not a color. I don’t consider myself Black or White. I’m a mixture of so many things that the best answer I can give people is that I’m an “other.” I am all the other things that are not on the list of races. I feel that if I chose one ethnicity, I would be denying another. I embrace everything that I am and suffer the injustices of all minorities.

From my perspective, it would be a lot easier to identify with one group of people because the reality is that I’m never truly accepted by ANY. In Junior High I wasn’t Black enough…in high school I wasn’t White enough and by the time I went to college, people had become more politically correct and just called me “exotic” (like a bird or something?!). Racially I’ve never belonged anywhere and culturally I’m scattered everywhere– from China to Suriname to Holland to America. I’m proud of my heritage, but I think that the focus society has placed on “categorizing” people has resulted in many of us who are multi-cultural to choose one or the other. So, I choose “Other.” It’s time for people to start thinking outside the (race) “box.”

As Korean as you are Korean

Tesha Post,
Holland, MI.

I was adopted from Korea when I was six months old and grew up living in the U.S. with my White parents. As a result, I do not speak Korean or know how to cook Korean foods. People are often surprised to hear this– they may react with disappointment, confusion, or even relief. I enjoy talking about my cultural background because I find that even if someone isn’t asking outright, they are wondering privately.

No…None of us were adopted

COLLAGE-FAMILYMadilyn Hays,
Holland, MI.

Me and my siblings are from all different ethnic backgrounds. I’m blond haired, blue eyed and full white. While my brother and sister are both of African American background, their great grand father was actually Louis Armstrong. And then my last two brothers are Puerto Rican. We all have the same mom. All 5 of us. Yet every time someone sees my family, or notices my sisters hair or all my brother’s brown eyes, their first reaction is

“Wow! Are they Adopted?”
To which I respond “No”
“Oh….So were You adopted?”
“No. We all have the same mom”
“How does that work?”

Once a conversation like this starts out it can get awkward very fast. I just wish people were more exposed to multi racial families. Not many seem to understand or even fully accept that I have a beautifully mixed family. And it hurts, when someone points out that I’m white, so I must be racist or something. When they don’t understand that I love my siblings so much, that discriminating over skin color is not an option for me, and never has been. It’s how I was raised and what I believe. I will forever be proud of my mixed family, But It’d be nice if it was accepted without the harsh comments and questions.

Ain’t Nothin’ Wrong Being a Factory Rat.

Diane Payne,
Monticello, AR.

I grew up in Holland, Michigan, a town where most everyone considered themselves quite lucky to have a job in a factory. Just about all my relatives worked in a factory. I remember the first time I visited General Motors for a family day, and I was continuously on the lookout for rats, but never saw a one. One summer our family went to the Walter and May Reuther Family Education Center First for a two week vacation. This was the time I was surrounded by nothing but “factory rats,” and the first time I got to sleep in a bed alone and eat as much food as I desired. Not a bad life being a factory rat.

Black, but I don’t fear police

black no fearRinard,
Holland New Tech High School,
Holland, MI.

Yes I feel there is an issue and a relationship gap between black men and police. It’s unfortunate what has been going on in our nation lately. I agree black lives matter and I can see how one may think they don’t given the recent sad events. On top of that however, I believe if you present yourself as a confident professional you have nothing to fear. Be tactful, calm, collected, and honest and things will work out. I’m black but I have never had any fear when it comes to dealing with law enforcement.

Taunted by Whites for being untanned.

Marcia S Davis,
Holland, MI

Since I was a kid and into adulthood, I’ve heard people say to me, a Caucasian, “You’re so white!” “You need to get some sun!” When I was younger I didn’t have the self-esteem to come back with a clever retort. I just buried my shame, dragging my self-image down with it, wishing I wasn’t in my own skin.

I call it Fish-Belly White. Peer pressure drove me to fry my skin with baby oil as a teenager just to fit in. Usually I just turned into a lobster. I’ve had numerous sunburns that are now emerging in my 50s as precancerous skin. Thankfully, I’ve been seeing a dermatologist annually for check-ups and may have saved my skin in time.

I’m not sure what to call this experience. Is it bullying? Is it a form of racism? Reverse racism? This project was a good outlet for me to express the shame of being the whitest of White people I know–many people who, ironically, tan their skin to be darker, yet have racist attitudes toward people of color.

If anyone criticizes my pale skin now, I just tell them [duh] I was born Caucasian. What you see is what you get. And hopefully I won’t get skin cancer.

I would love to understand what is behind the comments….what being “too white” means to them.

I’m only allowed to be white

Carrie Hunsinger,
Wilmington, DE.

I am a 1/2 first generation American. My Mother is American (Detroit) and my father is Dutch (Holland). He’s been here almost 60 years and he still speaks with a heavy Dutch accent and therefore I speak English with a bit of a Dutch accent.
When 9/11 happened I was in college in Newark, NJ. I remember talking about the events in class afterwards and getting yelled at by a Syrian girl during a class because I was talking about my fear of seeing backlash attacks in NJ. From her view I couldn’t know what it was like to be immigrant’s kid in America, because I was white, and could not have immigrant parents. A few days later cops pulled my father over on the highways with a bunch of other people because they were looking for terrorists driving mini-vans and he fit the description since he was tan and had an accent.
I have lost count of how many times I been told that being Dutch and being white is the same thing. That all of the western part of Europe is the same. I’ve been told being of European descent, especially being Dutch, automatically makes both racist and more at fault for slavery then other white people because of the Dutch slaves ships. Also, as I am constantly being mistaken for being German, I have been blamed for the Holocaust as well. I am not allowed to be a Dutch-American, or even a European-American. I don’t normally even see Caucasian listed anymore on forms. I am definitely not allowed to understand immigrant issues or what it’s like to be the first in your family to graduate college, or to have a family that overcame hardships and poverty to find the American Dream. I am not allowed to not be at fault for this country’s past (or Europe’s involvement) even though I learned in school along with all the other immigrants kids. I am part of the problem and at the same time, I’m told there’s nothing I can do help be part of the solution because as a white person, I am the problem.

“Basic white girl, you’ll never understand.”

Rebecca Robrahn,
Holland, MI.

No matter how much I try to learn and read and participate in conversations, I’m told I can’t understand, will never understand, that my privilege blinds me. I know I can never truly feel the experience of living in America as a black, Asian or Latina woman, but I *AM* trying. I *DO* care. I may have one of the whitest white girl names around (Becky), but I’m curious about others experiences and I want to know more.

“May I please touch his hair?”

can I touch your hairRyan Harrell,
Holland, MI.

Our adoptive son, Tagg, clearly is not a biological member of our family. In his two years with us we have encountered the entire range of reactions from loving acceptance to ignorant comments to outright disgust and disdain. But through it all, the fact is that we represent the new reality of the hodgepodge of racial and familial identities that is the United States. And the most common reaction we get, whether at church, in line at the grocery store, or at a playground makes us laugh and enjoy the humor in EVERYTHING: “May I please touch his hair?”

#hollandnewtech

So what if I am different.

Emma Hutchinson,
Holland, MI

We’re all different, not just the color of our skin. We could have different personalities. We’re all different in every way. except we were all made to play a special part In this world. What my six words mean is you can’t just judge a person by the color of their skin, you have to get to know them. As the saying goes, don’t judge a book by its cover, or in this case with people, it’s don’t judge a person by the color of their skin. You also can’t judge someone because they’re part of the lgbtq+ community. Can you judge me because I’m bisexual.

I am white they are Mexican

Chase Gries,
Holland, MI

One day I was sitting outside talking with my family about our culture and I casually burst out that my brothers were Mexican. My mom laughed and said so what does that make you? I had just assumed I was white. My response to her was, “I’m white, they are (my brothers) Mexican. It was at that point she explained that I was biracial. Not just white. With a name like Chase Gries, I think it was just always assumed or perceived I was white unless you knew or had seen my family. Therefore I began identifying as only white. I’m happy that I know now what I am and am Proud of my ethnic background.

Way too Mexican but too white

Karinna,
Holland, MI

The phrase“Way too Mexican, but too white” to me shows the life I live. Every summer I go to Chicago where my family from my Mexican side lives. I remember we always make jokes about how white I am. Like “gringa” , or “ shouldn’t you be a bit paler” or “coconut.”
Basically a ton of light-hearted jokes about me being too white. But once I go to my white side, they again make jokes, some not as lighthearted as others. Most are but not all. They like to play into the Mexican stereotypes like “Are you ready to be the pool girl this summer? You know because your Mexican” or a more light-hearted one like “you are so dark and Mexican.” On both sides of my family, I’m always too much of one race. No matter if I try to code-switch or not it doesn’t work.

White, but can’t have Mexican family?

GrandpaJade Weber,
Holland, MI.

When my grandparents come up to visit, and we go out people always ask if my grandfather is related to us. My whole family is white, but my grandfather is Mexican. My grandmother married him so, he is part of my family. Sometimes when people ask we can tell they are just curious but other time they are disgusted.

#hollandnewtech

51 years of history was unlearned

washingtBrandon M. VerBurg,
8th Grade Holland New Tech High School,
Holland, MI.

 

I love to study the past, and history is filled with turning points. Points that change the world. One that is being missed often is Civil Rights. Back in 1964 the movement was passed. It was passed so that race wouldn’t be an issue anymore. In years after the movement race caused more problems than needed. The race card was used as an excuse riot, fight, kill. But now we still face that problem, after 51 years. That isn’t the problem, It’s people ignorant enough to keep this issue alive. Sometimes the answers to current events are in the past. But everyone must be educated of the past.
#History #HollandNewTech

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