Latino, but I am a Republican
Andres,
Colorado Springs, CO
As a second generation Mexican, with 2 parents that at one point came here illegally. I vote republican, I am a Republican. I voted for Trump, I support ICE. These things get me labeled a traitor, a bigot, or a brain washed conservative. My father came here illegally, but gained his citizenship under the Ronald Reagan administration’s Amnesty. My mother came over smuggled in the back of a Uhaul but gained her residency and proudly achieved US Citizenship this past December. I do not agree with handouts or weekly payouts for those coming here to abuse our system. I do not support our veterans, as a United States Marine Corps veteran, living on the streets while those that have given nothing for our nation are being fed with a sliver spoon. I agree with deportation and cleaning up our communities in such a way that our own citizens are provided for versus strangers. I am tired of being labeled things, or being grouped with racists for feeling that we need to get back to our core. My roots are Red White and Green, but I bleed Red White and Blue. I have this nation to thank for all the things that my family and I are blessed for, I can appreciate my heritage but recognize my present.
“My Blood is Red, What’s Yours”
Ralanda King,
Philadelphia, PA.
Born and raised in the city of brotherly love, but I’m full of sisterly affection, I not black but brown and beautiful. the heart can see what our eyes can’t or refuse too. but, don’t charge it to my skin, but to my heart.
“My Blood is Red, What’s Yours”
Ralanda King,
Philadelphia, PA.
Born and raised in the city of brotherly love, but I’m full of sisterly affection, I not black but brown and beautiful. the heart can see what our eyes can’t or refuse too. but, don’t charge it to my skin, but to my heart.
Colored people? What? Red? Green? Blue?
George Sakalian,
Sweden
These were my thoughts when as a small boy in the 1930’s i first heard of “colored people” with no explanation. I lived in an ethnically mixed neighbourhood in the U.S. and played with other small boys…black or white. I never thought of the black boys as being different until some time later when it was explained to me that they were inferior! This, of course, made no sense to me.
As for being treated as inferior, I have learned from my parents of how they had been treated when they lived in Turkey around 1915-1916. They were not acquainted at the time but both managed to escape when the Turks began their ethnic cleansing of Armeniens and other Christian minorities. Millions were slaughtered. They each came from large families and as far as they knew no other family members survived. The Turks still refuse to acknowledge what happened in spite of overwhelming evidence. President Biden’s acknowledgement of this reign of terror was welcomed.
Braiding red bones and white blood.
Bari Goodblood Lehn
Wetzel County, WV
Born to a Santee Sioux mother and a German father in the Midwest. They met and married when she was relocated to the city as part of termination policy for reservation Indians in the 1950’s. Four babies later, for reasons I never knew, she left us, taking with her the better half of who I was. Not until as an adult I quit a gravy civil service job to work on a Reservation was I able to steep myself in my Sioux mother’s culture. From my pious German farming grandparents I learned the love of God and the love of the land. Living among Indians, I sensed a profound spirituality evoked by living relationally with the land and one another. I try to keep the Indian in me alive and strong while adapting to the dominant cultural environment in which I have largely lived my life.
The color that matters runs red
Jeri Grigsbay,
Magalia, CA.
Rainbow color faces, all bleed red
Nancy Sonduck,
Spokane, WA.
Spokane Falls Community College
I feel red. But maybe not.
Ann Lee Adams,
Corvallis, OR.
My father was part Cherokee. But we were raised white. So I don’t know what to feel…or be.
I am Black, red, white, brown
Michele Moreno-Cheverez,
Santa Barbara, CA.
Everyone deserves equality, equity, respect, compassion, empathy and a chance in life. One world~one people.
Rewrite history. All blood is red.
Susan Hirtz,
Vallejo, CA.
My contribution is to create historical fiction for young adult readers incorporating upbeat stories about our diverse backgrounds.
And afterall, we all bleed red.
Jorge
Grand Rapids, MI
I am Hispanic and proud to be so. Growing up I realized that my skin was darker than my brothers’ and many others in the family and from very early on (growing up in El Salvador, my beloved but racist little country) I was aware that the color of one’s skin can mean so much more than just that… Now I live in the US and have become even more aware of all the different racial backgrounds, ethnicities and cultures that surround us and despite how many different ways we rationalize what race means, it all seems to come down to one simple thought: we all bleed red and all have the dream of living a worthwhile meaningful life. If only we all opened our eyes…
Red is NOT ‘the new black’
Joni Graves,
Spring Green, WI.
I made this mash-up design for a t-shirt after an unfortunate coincidence in my email inbox. Prior to today’s announcement by the DA in the shooting of Tony Robinson, and two minutes after the UW-Madison Chancellor’s email “Campus resources for the Tony Robinson decision”, I received a “Badger Voice” newsletter email from the Alumni Association with a picture of four bright red t-shirt designs and the headline “Red is the New Black” (a “fashion cliche” that, according to a 2004 column by William Safire, probably goes back to the mid-1990s). Under the circumstances, I wanted to say “red is NOT ‘the new black'”.
Red on outside, but White on inside
Shelly Watson,
Bethel Acres, OK.
When I was a teenager, other American Indians used to call me Apple.
We-all bleed red. So don’t judge
Nathalie Gregoire
New York City, NY
Brooklyn
All my life I have been judged. When we see black people we automatically think they are thieves. When it comes to whites we think they are perfect. So many times we try to hide our identities, our race in order to fit in with society. But when we all bled our blood is the same color. So why judge because of the color of ones skin. We all need to grow up and realize God created everyone in his image. So in a way we are ALL the same.
