When we moved to Florida from Puerto Rico, I was eight years old and already one month into third grade. I left behind the private Catholic school that had just begun to accept girls as students that year and came to a standard public school in the city of Orlando. My first day at this new school, I experienced what I believe to be my first encounter with racism.

It was during PE class and we were playing volleyball. I am not sure exactly how it happened or what caused it, but what I remember is that out of nowhere this little boy on the other side of the net screamed out to me, “Why don’t you just go back to Africa?” I remember clearly staring at him and wondering, “Why is he telling me to go to Africa? I’m from Puerto Rico!” It wouldn’t be until many years later that I would fully understand the meaning of what was said to me.

People often say things like “It’s hard to believe that in a year like 2011, we still have discrimination,” and ask my husband and I questions such as “Do you really feel discriminated against?” We’ve had discussions with friends explaining just how prevalent discrimination still is, even in 2011.

Reading The Headshake on Latinaish got me thinking about the various times either my husband or I have gotten looks. It tends to happen more when we’re together, than when I’m alone. Normally we get looks when we’re out and about shopping. It’s because they think we might steal something. Here’s how the scenario usually plays out.

As we enter a store, a sales clerk will typically greet us, though this isn’t always the case. We will begin to browse and will get the customary, “Can I help you with anything?” line. After we politely say, “No, thank you. We’re just looking,” the clerk doesn’t really ever leave. The majority of the time we are followed around, the clerk always keeping a few feet of distance between us. As we look around at other customers, though, they are not being watched so closely. Interestingly, this used to happen a lot more when my husband had his hair in dreads.

Now, I used to work in retail, particularly in shoe stores. I was given the training materials that say the best way to avoid theft was to greet each and every customer, alerting them to the fact that you are aware of their presence in the store. I also had to deal on several occasions with managers that would ask me to follow certain customers around the store – solely based on their appearance as they entered the store. So, I am all too familiar with the practice.

I don’t claim to have lived a hard life full of discrimination. By all means, that is definitely not true. I lived a rather sheltered life of living in the suburbs with a middle-class way of life. Compared to my husband’s youth, I have nothing to complain about, really. He has endured way more discrimination than I have. Yet, even with the sheltered youth I had, I was still greeted to the United States with a “why don’t you go back” attitude, literally.

What does this mean for my kids? They are both biracial, multicultural, and with different shades of brown. As I look around my daughter’s preK classroom, she is the only one with dark skin and one of two Latina girls in her class. There is another little girl whose mom is from China and the rest of the kids are White. While I know this is a reflection of the neighborhood we live in, I have to wonder how often she will be the “token” girl as she grows up. How will she be treated? Will she ever have to deal with someone telling her to “go back” even though there’s nowhere for her to go back to?

Other articles worth reading:

• Curly Hair is Beautiful Too! How Everyday Conversations Become Life Lessons in Our House.
• Brown is Not Enough
• I’m White, My Daughter is Latina, and I Buy Black Dolls

Baby girl: “Daddy, you need a haircut.”
Husband: “Do I?”
Baby girl: “Yes, but not too much. Just a little off the top. You don’t want to be bald because then people would laugh at you.”
Husband (after some laughter): “Well baby, I don’t really care if people laugh at me. If they laugh at me because I’m bald, then they’re not good people, right?”
Baby girl: “Right.”
Husband (to me): “Man, every conversation these days turns into some great life lesson, doesn’t it?”
Me: “Yeah. sigh…”

And, it’s true. There seems to be no shortage of conversations we’re having with our 4-year-old these days that turns into some greater message or life lesson.

If she says anything about curly hair, there we are reinforcing the idea that “curly hair is so beautiful!” If we’re talking colors, once again, my husband and I pipe in like a PSA ad to say, “Don’t forget black! Black is such a pretty color.”

To some of you, this may seem a bit unnecessary or even extreme. Why do we continually have to say these things? Why not just let her live her little 4-year-old life, right? But, the truth is that when you’re raising a multicultural child, you have to constantly look out for signs and provide the proper message to your kid. She is surrounded by dolls, ads, friends, and other images that are not like her, so it’s up to her father and I to surround her with images and messages that are like her and remind her that she too should be admired.

Photo by Rashod Taylor

And, it’s not just the media we’re up against. Even family members can be culprits – without really recognizing the side effect. Just a few weeks ago, my own mother said, “Ay no! That will make her hair more curly!” when my husband said he wants to braid (corn row) my daughter’s hair. Once again, there we were saying, “There’s nothing wrong with curly hair!” It’s even difficult for me at times, to be sure I’m sending the right message to her. I have to catch myself from saying things like, “I like my hair better straight,” since I don’t want her to perceive that straight is necessarily better.

It can get exhausting at times to always be thinking about what you’re saying/doing/watching and whether or not it will affect your impressionable 4-year-old’s self-esteem. This is even more true if you’re in what’s considered the “minority” group of society.

In a way, though, all of these conversations are also helping me to feel better about my own self. Who knew that by trying to ensure my daughter grows up confident, in turn, I would help myself feel a little more confident in a body I’ve known for 30 years?

Additional thoughts of mine on multiculturalism:

• Brown is Not Enough
• Barbie Dolls and Columbus Day. What’s the Connection?