mood music-
One of my favorite moments of a work day is when the Mexican Restaurant across the highway runs out of something and sends one or two of the kitchen guys down to restock- usually tomatoes, jalapenos, onions, cilantro, avocado- and I get to practice my iffy Spanish greetings on someone. They've only laughed at me once, but they persist in their instruction. They haven't lost hope in me.
The younger of the two came in today and was obviously entertained by my coworker's hat, which is something of a tradition here. For the entire month of October, she wears her witch hat- and people actually come in to see it. He smiled, he said something none of us understood, and he paid- cash- for his purchase. He shouted a "como estas?" at me, and I answered, "bien!"
I got a big smile in return.
At the time I was checking- taking my turn with the awful lotto machine and cigarette shelves. An older couple came into my line with their purchases. Dapper and charming and normal, a cart full of organic milk, bananas, bologna, cereal. I went through my auto-speil- Hi there, did you find everything okay? Do you have our rewards card?
This is approximately when it fell apart.
"Rewards card, huh? How will I be rewarded? I mean, with Obama the illegals coming over the border get plenty of rewards." He motioned towards the door that my friend had just exited through.
I couldn't stand it. So, I said-
"Actually, if you work in a grocery store for awhile, you'll see who get's most of the rewards- and it isn't our neighbors to the south. It's mostly white Americans, like you and me. And that guy that just left works hard everyday- legitimately. He isn't on any assistance."
The memory of earlier in the day and a conversation I had with another customer jumped to mind. White, like me. She often comes into the store and shops for her family with foodstamps and WIC, none of which I have a problem with- until she follows up her foodstamp purchase with $75 of alcohol- in cash. Today, she was upset because the rewards system kicks the WIC purchases off-line. In other words- you don't get points for WIC purchases and you won't get free milk/bread/eggs without points.
Oh, there was going to be hell to pay if I didn't fix that! She was convinced I had masterminded the entire problem, and that I was an anti-government-aid-conservative. Like her. Because she isn't one of "those people" who abuse the system. She needs all the help she can get!
Har. Yeah.
Back to the older couple- the man told me that I should probably learn to speak Spanish, since that's what we'd be required to speak, soon.
I ignored his prophetic psychosis and answered in the affirmative- "Yes! I really do want to learn to speak Spanish!" Smile, smile, happy smiles.
And then he signed up for the rewards card. Because, of course he did.
Over the years I've noticed- and handled- a number of these kinds of conversations, and the fears expressed within them are always pretty evident- and as most fears go- faulty.
The brown people are taking over. The brown people are coming. The brown people will take your jobs. The brown people will disrupt *our* Way Of Life™.
My way of life has always included a certain amount of ethnic diversity. By the time I was an early- teen, I was the only white kid of my age in my neighborhood. And it was fine. No one bothered me. There was one incident in eighth grade that I handled pretty well- and here I am. Alive and well.
In fact, my predominantly white, private, Christian school was more difficult, on average, than a walk through my neighborhood ever was.
Our Way Of Life™ on 5th Street in Greeley, Colorado went something like this. People woke up and went to work. The kids went to school. Buses streamed through, cars drove by, neighbors worked on their lawns and cars. We had garage sales and played our music too loud. Dogs sometimes went on long walks and cats were sometimes hit by cars. The couple on the corner had fights that brought out the cops. The old man down the street hoarded Fingerhut boxes in his windows until they faded to white in too many years of the afternoon sun. Jerry's Market started stocking more "ethnic" foods alongside the Kraft Macaroni & Cheese and Red Delicious Apples. The Bait Shop painted itself purple and started selling candy to pull in the after-school-kid demographic, rather than relying solely on the local fisherman. (Really? Where did these people fish? The mystery persists.) People moved in and moved out, moved on and moved up and did the things that all Americans do- bought too much crap, and went into too much debt.
And none of that was dependent on skin color or ethnic origin, for pity's sake.
In the last several years- particularly the years since 2008- I've been surprised by the things that older people are comfortable telling me to my face. Me. Me with the mixed- race family. Me with the children who aren't considered "white" by any domestic standard.
You must have adopted your kids, right? They don't look anything like you.
Answer: Actually, they do. You just don't see it, because your eyes only see color and stop there. I'm sorry you have this affliction.
I don't think a black man should be in the white house- this isn't their country.
Answer: Oh please. This wasn't "our country", either. I don't remember asking to be born here.
I don't think it's right that blacks marry whites.
Answer: Okay. So feel free to abstain, idiot.
English is our language, people shuld lern (sic) it!
Answer: It's our language insofar as it's what we most commonly use, but the United States has no official language. Deal with it, and learn something new. Better yet, learn English!
The thing is, immigration has always been an issue here. And probably everywhere. It's what people do- they tribe-up and fend off the advancing hordes. The advancing hordes win, and then it's their turn to fend off whoever the new threat is.
Are we over that, yet? I think it's time to accept that we are becoming more diverse- and this can be a strength if we pull it together and stop labeling each other as simply "other".
Read this.
And for a little reality-
