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1531 posts tagged race

Too bad about all the damn Cubans down there.

My boyfriend’s family friend to my boyfriend and me, about Miami. I am half-Cuban with a clearly Latin@ name, and we were in Miami to visit my father and grandfather, both Cuban immigrants.

Another installment of Brown in Kansas, a cartoon series by Steffany Brown. (Want to see more? That’s up to Steffany, but reblog anyway to show your support!)

I, a Black woman with locs, was on a local college campus when a young white female student asked me if I was related to another Black woman with locs who worked there. Since this happens regularly, I said my usual “No” with a non-threatening smile. She then clarified that she thought we were relatives because we “sound” the same. That was a new one! I’m used to all Black people looking the same but I guess all black women with locs who pronounce our words “correctly” must also be from the same family tree.

You don’t want to buy a house, it’s too much trouble.

White neighbor who owns over 50 properties in our community, to me, a black woman. I was expressing my concern that our activist work would increase the value of homes in our community where I rent before I could afford to buy one.  We were standing in her doorway, one of the largest homes in our community. Made me feel the same way I felt when she told me how articulate I am.

He’s totally white on the inside.

School bus discussion about me, an Indian American. 

Brown in Kansas

A wonderful cartoon submitted to us.

I was taking anatomy and physiology and during an open lab session one of my classmates (who is a white male) asked me what my major was. But before I could tell him he said “Wait you’re doing nursing right? Am I right ??” in a manner where he felt very confident in his answer. When I told him I was taking a class to be a medical lab technician, he sounded astonished and baffled all at the same time. He said that “It’s a shame that you’re not trying to be a nurse.”

I am a filipino female.

I don’t understand how you actually have a round butt and big boobs. I mean, you’re Asian for crying out loud!

My white coworker at my previous job at a clothing store.

I overheard one of my husband’s co-workers tell him that "It must be nice to be married to an Asian woman, because they’re so submissive."

I was waiting in the checkout line at a convenient store on the Jersey shore to buy a drink and a snack. Two young white guys who were chatting walked between the checkout line and the counter, clearly heading for the door with food and Gatorade. The cashier called to them “Excuse me, you have to pay for that.” One guy said, “Oh,” and instead of going to the back of the line, he cut in front of me and pays for the food at the counter. The cashier didn’t say anything or send them to the back of line. It happened so quickly, I didn’t respond, but afterward I felt their oblivious entitlement infuriating.

While talking to a friend about relationships and my lack of experience with them, she claimed that “You shouldn’t have any problems with finding a boyfriend; you’re Asian and pretty much all white guys love Asian girls.” Obviously, not only is the sole attractive quality I possess my race, but the only type of person I want (or deserve) to have a relationship with is white.

I’m waiting to visit my father after his heart surgery with my mother behind a pair of doors. Another South Asian family is waiting some distance away from us to visit someone else. A white nurse opens the door and seeing all of us says, ‘Only two visitors per patient!’

I work in a Mexican restaurant. My white male coworker is serving a table when he turns around and asks me: “Hey, you’re Mexican, how do you pronounce this word in Spanish?”
I reply: “I’m not Mexican, I’m Paraguayan.” 
He proceeds to say loudly: “No one cares, it’s the same damn thing.”
This was said right in front of our costumers.Not all Latinos are Mexican and Mexicans are not similar to Paraguayans. I felt belittled by the fact that my entire history, people and culture can be dismissed by one ignorant comment. 

I first moved to England at the age of 6. During one of my first few days in school a boy my age said to me ”why don’t you go back to your own country?” I was obviously shocked and confused and all I could think to do was tell my teacher who told me to respond to him by saying ”Why don’t you go back to YOUR own country?” since the boy happened to be Italian. 

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