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Yes, I’m Hispanic no hablo espanol.

Joshua,
Warrenton, VA

My mom lived in Columbian until she was adopted at 9 y/o by a white midwestern family who doesn’t speak Spanish. My dad is an average white male from the midwest who also doesn’t speak Spanish. Because of the way I look and y skin color people assume I speak Spanish all the time. Some Hispanics are even prejudiced towards me for not speaking it. Lord Fairfax Community College

White Conservative #Don’t Assume I’m Racist

Quinn Meyer,
Dubuque, IA

Growing up a white, conservative male in a suburban Midwestern town automatically attaches labels to me. We all live with labels. Some are self-assigned, and some are assigned by society. More labels I’ll add to my resume include Catholic, private-school educated, intact family unit with married parents and two brothers, healthy, and politically active to name a few of my labels. You probably already have an image of who you think I am. That is how society works. We assign labels, and then we assume they are true. Aren’t you sick and tired of labels? I am!
Never has there been a time in my life that I have felt the negative impact of labels than I have throughout this past election cycle. Labels and division between people were rampant and downright ugly. As a conservative thinker, I found myself in a minority position on my college campus. People accused me of being unsympathetic towards Blacks and minorities because of my political ideology. Political views are complex. My political views are more fiscally conservative- based and socially/morally conservative. I really don’t believe I have any racism in my thoughts. I have friends of many races and colors. I am sick of people labeling me and assuming I’m racist because I’m white and conservative. People have got to stop making assumptions!

Touched. Terrified, Empathetic. Praying for change.

Leanne Gutierrez,
Eden Prairie, MN.

Growing up white and privileged in a midwestern college town, I later lived in a Central American country for several years, married a man from that country and now have been raising a beautiful multi-culture/multi-colored family in various states in the midwest. Seeing racism, watching my family process it and experience it in varying degrees with a variety of responses is eye-opening, terrifying, heart-rending, and encouraging. I am learning what my role is, and seeing how my American-born children and foreign-born husband respond to situations and attitudes is so amazing. I never want to be taken back to my complacent upbringing, and yet I am still learning how to be a force for change in myself and in the country I live in and love. It is one thing to take on racism in my own life and heart, and yet another to watch my children do the same. Praying for wisdom, and courage for them, for myself, and for this entire country to have the conversations and receive the healing that is so necessary as we evolve and grow.

“You’re white, so you don’t understand.”

Carrie Piper,
St Peters, MO.

I grew up in the part of the suburbs that’s sort of a demographic limbo. You’d know what I meant if you saw it: no longer new enough to be “really nice” as the older home builders die off, slowly moving through the “hoosier” phase on its way to “ghetto” and decades away from gentrification making it hip to live there.

By high school the hallways were filled with Black, White, Asian, Latino, and Hispanic of multiple flavors and degrees. You had to count faces in the yearbook to say who was the majority. We were just entering that sweet spot where no one cares: the honors classes had faces from varied backgrounds, the sports teams had started to be less racially stereotypical, and the fights in the hall are about hormones, not colors. But you could still feel divisions. No matter how well we played together to ace the group project or win the big game, like still sought out like once we stepped off school grounds. No hard feelings, it’s just how it often was. Not always, but often. It was an apathy more than avoidance, sticking to those we gravitated to on the grade school playground. Habits are hard to break.

It was in my first study group at a Midwestern, hidden-in-the-cornfields, university that someone first assumed I couldn’t relate to them because of our different skin. I don’t remember ever feeling strange about race before then.

Americans love my dad’s Irish accent.

Owen O’Riordan
Chicago, IL

Mom lived between Ireland and US growing up. She spoke like the Irish in Ireland and then changed to Midwestern in America. My parents moved to Chicago in the 80s and surrounded themselves with other Irish people and my mom now sounds American but my dad sounds like he just stepped off the plane to most people. I still have to translate for him occasionally. Americans love to imitate an Irish accent. After 30 years here, my dad is more American than Irish, but he doesn’t sound like it.

White skinned but not white brained

Karen Charlotte,
Montpelier, VA.

I’m a native Mid-Westerner who has lived in the South about 90% of my life. I try my best to learn about people as individuals not stereotypes and rid myself of any remaining prejudices lurking in my psyche. I hate it when I find myself in a room with only white faces and they assume I have the same prejudiced attitudes they hold. And if someone tells an ethnic joke (of any variety) I tell my favorite “ethnic” (fill in the blank) joke. “What’s black and blue and lies on the floor?” Answer? “The next person to tell an “ethnic” joke!”

World is bigger than I knew.

Sarah Alys Lindholm
USA

After growing up white in a small upper-Midwestern town with a nearly all-White population, traveling both within and without the US and seeing how race operated in interactions let me see how race was operating in that lack of interaction too. Living as a racial minority in Asia was one of the best things I ever did for an understanding of how much the color of your skin colors everything, from your perceived personality to your perceived IQ. A temporary minority experience will never be the same as a life in the minority, but boy can it give you some hints.

Anger sadness hope live inside me

Susan Riederer
Boulder, CO

I was a teenager during the 60’s and feel such sadness at remembering what occurred in my youth as a white midwestern girl. I remember the race riots in Kansas City where I lived and my parents picking me up in downtown as opposed to taking the city bus home because they were afraid. My youth saw many losses. I do though feel hope that things can change although we still have a very long way to go. I do what I can to speak truth to power in my small world.

Race regardless, you still have culture

Jasmine Elizabeth Smith
Oklahoma City, OK

“But I’m White. I don’t have a culture I identify with.” I often hear this rueful phrase during discussions about multiculturalism with my non African American friends. I think Americans need to redefine the meaning of the word ‘culture’. Culture does not refer to ethnicity or nationality, but should be extended to encompass the shared interests or traits of a group of people. If you’re from the Mid-west, well by goodness, you have a Midwestern culture. You like baseball, your an integral part of the baseball culture. Race regardless, we all have a culture.

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