What am I? And does it matter?
Last night a good friend sent me a shocking video. It was a footage of Telemundo’s Jorge Ramos interviewing a “person” called Jared Taylor who seems to hold the honorary title of Editor of American Renaissance. In this interview, this Jarod blob argued incessantly that he wanted to live in the United States as a country based on an “European model in which whites are the predominant majority forever” (or something of that sort, to be honest I didn’t feel like quoting him verbatim). He strongly positioned himself against, in particular, black and latinos. He considered the rise of minorities in public office a “plague” that was putting his way of life in danger.
I originally dismissed the video as one of those blatantly outrageous racist propaganda that we have recently grown so accustomed to since Trump decided to run for office. But he was so direct, unapologetic and totally self-righteous that, for some reason, I felt compelled to share the video with my husband [Mr. B] in a text message. What caught me by surprise was not Mr. B’s disgust with the video message, which I obviously already expected, like a comforting reassurance that I’m surrounded by caring humans; what took me by surprise was his tongue-in-cheek follow up joke: “So are you European or Latino? 😜”
Huh!! Wait, what??? Interesting question!! I mean… is it interesting?? Should I be concerned about “what I am”? Isn’t “just I” sufficient? I don’t know!!
Should I feel the whip of racism and xenophobia in my back like a burning reminder that I’m less than midwestern Jennifer or southerner Lisa or Californian Sharon? Am I to stand on the outlook with the sympathizing supporting defenders, whose strength remains intact from a position of privilege? or in the victims’ corrals, suffering from mistreatment and fighting to raise a voice that gets constantly muted by the powers of those immune to discrimination? I didn’t know what or even how to respond to the question…
I am European, I am white (although I get a killer bronce tan when I spend any time under the sun), of Celtic descent (centuries’ long traced genealogy places my ancestors generation after generation in small rural hamlets of Galicia), well educated, fluent in English and lacking any “chicken in my backyard”.
But I’m also from a country called Spain (formerly known as Hispania), a native Spanish-speaker, an immigrant not naturalized US citizen, from a very humble working class family, I’m loud, love to dance and find any excuse for celebration, I have a strong affinity towards those of Latin culture and have developed my career around my Latin/Hispanic/Central and South American kinship.
So what am I? As European invaders and conquistadores, we Spaniards have retained for centuries an air of superiority, a huge chip on our shoulders that has allowed us to navigate world politics and history under the illusion that we are, if not better, then definitely more worldly than our Latin American former “subjects”. That was an illusion that remained indelible even after the Spanish empire declined, succumbed, was completely decimated and outperformed by its former colonies. An illusion that outlasted our civil war, despite its subsequent wounds: wide spread hunger and illiteracy in our Iberian rural communities.
So, for already almost two centuries, we have been perpetually proven wrong about our superiority, but in true Spanish character, stubbornness prevails. I must confess, I found myself constantly acting with an air of superiority, somehow portraying a cockiness that was gratuitous and completely undeserved. When filling out Census and other forms I always skipped over the term “Latino/Hispanic” and checked the “White/Caucasian” box…
But this Jared blob-guy ticked me. Who is he to so flagrantly dismiss people that have built the greatness of this country with their blood, sweat and tears? Why is he insisting in proselytizing his fantasy of an European model country? Does he even know the realities of Europe’s people make up ? Is he more concerned about race or about economic class? Would he remain afraid of latinos if they all looked and had the economic means of Shakira, Salma Hayek, Amancio Ortega, Mario Vargas Llosa, Picasso or Carlos Slim? Are we all guilty of the same sin, ostrazicing humble immigrants for their lack of resources (may these be economic, educational, or otherwise) rather than elevating them for their contributions and promise?
I’m not gonna apologize for being born and raised on the East side of the Atlantic, the same way I wouldn’t do so had I been born somewhere else in the Americas. It was a completely circumstantial and out of my control fact. The truth is that just by being born and raised in Spain and having access to European infrastructure, rule of law, a functioning parliamentary government and loving family I am privileged. The same grade (albeit different kind) of privilege enjoyed by a wealthy person from El Salvador. The question is, are such privileged wealthy Latin people and such European Spanish descendants excluded from Jared’s and others’ fear, hate and distrust? It seems the Latino, Hispanic, Mexican people who are most commonly feared and defined by those labels are mainly those who can’t enjoy a lavish lifestyle AND are of Latin American origin AND maybe even enjoy a permanent brown tan. Or does the irrational fear include everybody that speaks Spanish?
I’m not sure but since my privileges have been granted to me randomly and circumstancially I’ve realized I should take personal offense with this guy and once and for all shake off the chip on my shoulder to expand my sense of identity: as an immigrant in the United States, I proudly declare myself Latino, Hispanic and any other adjective you’d like to add to somebody who speaks a Latin language, likes to feel life, breathes and whispers in romance tongues, dances in heart beat rhythms, embraces human warmth and physical contact and savors the sun!
So, in case anybody cares, and although I really think it doesn’t matter, I’m an European Latino Hispanic White middle-aged woman mamá y Olé!! And if you don’t like chickens waking you up at 3:00 am go hit a couple of golf balls to let off steam!!
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