Jan 20, 2015

Same bloodline different treatment

Walking through the mall with my momma, I begged her to let me stop in the toy store. While looking around, a woman stopped us and told me how pretty my green eyes were. She looked at my mom’s brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin, and asked "are you her nanny?" 

I didn't understand why someone would ask my mom if she was the help. When we left the store, my mother explained that sometimes people look at others and judge them based on what they look like. That was when I learned about discrimination, something that is very much alive.

Being a lighter-skinned Latina, I am sure I have not experienced as much discrimination as others or as my own mother. But, being a lighter-skinned daughter to a dark-skinned mother and dark-skinned brother, I have had times where the unfair assumptions of others have cut like a knife.

One day, my brother picked me up from school. I was about 12 at the time, and he was driving a nice car he had worked hard to buy, meanwhile listening to 50 Cent as we drove down the streets of our suburb. He was pulled over almost instantly as we turned onto our street. As the cop approached, I remember my brother's face so vividly. When the cop got to the driver's side window, he looked at my brother, with his dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin, and then looked at me. There I sat white as snow and light green eyes. The cop didn't speak one word to my brother, but instead directed his first question to me, "are you okay?" Instantly, I understood that racial profiling was something my brother was expecting as soon as he saw the cop's lights turn on, and I had lived such a different life without such experiences of my own.

What a tragic thing it is to admit that two people of the same bloodline can experience drastically different reactions because of their skin tone. Handing the cop his license and registration, the cop seemed shocked. My brother's name was of German descent, both his first and his last (thanks pops). He proceeded to ask my brother who the car belonged to . . . and then let us go. 

I am writing this so that one day DC will know that we do not judge people, and that we are the kind of people who stand up for what is right. Sometimes, people make mistakes. They can say and do silly things, but when a line is crossed and silly turns into bad and wrong you do not stay quiet. You speak up, son. You remember where you came from and who you are. No one can take that from you, and you should never let anyone take that same freedom and pride from someone else.

*pictures are from my pinterest boards, visit @xomrsmeasom on pinterest for their direct links*


  1. I'm half Latina as well, and I'm pale enough that I don't get much of this treatment but I've seen people treat my dad differently because he's from El Salvador. But he's never become bitter about it, but also teaches us never to judge someone. xo

    1. Natalia,

      Thank you for such a beautiful comment, and a great reminder that working to love other people, and not judging them is very important in both bettering ourselves and the world.

      All my love and huge hugs!



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