Ever See a Bigot Up Close?

i was analyzed
and perceived to be one thing
against my own will

If you look at me on the surface, you will find an individual with a skin tone closely related to that of farm fresh brown eggs. Presumably you could infer that I am of white origin or some sort of latino. For the record, I am Italian. Circa 800 A.D. the African Moors invaded Italy. My Italian family comes from the south of Italy. I could possibly have African in me, who knows. I also belong to Spanish heritage. How much exists or of what part of Spain I do not know because my maternal grandfather passed away before I was born.

Colonization plays an important role in the development of cultures and the growth of people. When the Moors colonized the south of Italy, African blood was introduced to the Italian genome and as such a new evolution of Italian was born. When you fast forward to the time when my paternal Grandmother met my Grandfather, both of southern/central Italy origins, they gave birth to four sons in America.

My father met my mother, a mix of Italian, European Spanish and various other things that do not at the present time come to mind. They had two offspring, Chulo and Blood. Chulo, the author, identifies as mixed as he has no real way of tracking his heritage back as far as need be due to the fact that his maternal grandparents are dead and his paternal grandfather is also dead. Chulo identifies both as a minority and as a Hispanic for two reasons:

• No one is certain how the African Moors effected his family by introducing African blood into the Italian genome. For those unaware, the African Moors were black. In America, the slightest bit of black blood automatically makes you African American. (Actually I believe it's 1/64th)
  
  
• As my Maternal grandfather (and Grandmother) are both dead, I am unaware of what part of Spain my family came from, nor do I know the amount of Spanish blood runs thru my veins.
  

With that said, I am a product of European colonization. Be it thru the Moors, the Italians or the Spanish, and as such, I identify both as a Hispanic (as I have Spanish origins) and as a Minority (as I am not fully aware of the effect the Moors had on my ancestors.)

While I may appear light skinned Hispanic, that in no way denigrates my ability to claim cultures that I have every valid right to be a member of. Unfortunately, I was raised in a predominantly Italian household, and had to learn Spanish on my own.

In High School, I was taught proper Castilian Spanish. I had traveled to Spain twice and then I graduated. Bear in mind I took four and a half years of Spanish when only 2 were required. I was in the honors Spanish class and earned college credit for the work I completed.

Upon my arrival to Ithaca College, I placed into an upper level Spanish class where I made friends and continued to learn the language because I felt that exploring my heritage to the best of my ability was something that I should take advantage of; plus it helped filled Gen. Ed. requirements, and after that I took another semester. Along the way, I found myself struggling to make friends with the white kids in school because I didn't feel as if I fit in. Here I was, a stranger in a strange land, with only roommates to get along with.

My first roommate was a gay Colombian who was raised Jewish and my second an Italian. We both got along very well.

The more I got involved in school activities, the more friends I made, and coincidentally most were students of color. I felt comfortable with them, as they did with me.

By the time it was time to graduate, the amount of white friends I had was significantly smaller than the amount of students of color. This was not my choice, but rather the white kids pushed me away because I no longer belonged in their group. Strange -- I know, but this was Ithaca.

For Spring Break, I went to the Dominican Republic with some senior friends from home, and I was the token Spanish speaking person as it was my job to make sure we weren't being ripped off. That trip lasted a week in Boca Chica.

I became involved with the African Latino Society where I made more friends, many of whom I am still in contact with today. At first they looked at me strangely, but after I explained myself, they warmed up to me, and I belonged.

For my senior photo project I had to take two contrasting civilizations and thru photography illustrate the differences. I chose Miami and Cuba. Obviously because of the large Cuban exile population here in south Florida, and I knew I could get a license to go to Cuba. I went alone, and managed to survive a week on my own in a Communist country speaking their language. I made some friends and I can't wait to go back.

After my senior art show, I participated in a summer class relating to Dominican Culture. It was one of the most phenomenal things I have ever done. I explored the island from the capital Santo Domingo, to Santiago y Licey, Naverrete, the Campo up in Janico y Juncalito and the beaches of Sosua.

I moved to Florida afterwards, and all I kept getting from my customers at my job was "Are you Puerto Rican?" Of course I said no, Italian & Spanish, but they spoke to me anyway. I have been here for two years and I have been using more Spanish than I had used in high school.

A funny thing happened along the way as I write this blog. Someone e-mailed me and found my words to be captivating. We got to talking and he found out that I wasn't Latino, not that I ever claimed to be. He assumed because of all of the Latino references on my blog. Bear in mind, I learned about what it meant to be Hispanic thru my Puerto Rican, Dominican, Ecuadorian and Colombian friends.

When I told him this, he couldn't look past the color of my skin like the prejudiced person that I later found out he was. He saw light skin and Latino romanticism and equated that with a fetish. He couldn't fathom that I found out later in life that I was part Hispanic and my friend Liza had to teach me to make arroz con guandules in our dorm room while My Size Dominican helped with the Pernil.

But needless to say, I was next'd.

It was up until the time that he couldn't come to terms with me being Hispanic and identifying as a minority that our relationship could not continue. I lay here writing this to whomever is reading because it's important. Skin color does not dictate your ethnic origins or how you personally identify yourself. I know black people who are "whiter" than me both in their behavior and mindset. Not that I'm claiming to be "white" now, but it's just the general point that race, culture and ethnicity, while often grouped together have exceptions just like everything else in life.

I feel bad that he couldn't get to know what I am like in real life, because I know we would have hit it off if he wasn't such a racist individual who was self absorbed with his own theories of what makes a Latino/Hispanic. In reality it's his loss because there are so many others out there in this world. He claims that I have a Latino fetish, that's absurd. If the majority of my friends are Latino, Hispanic or whatever, obviously I am going to be drawn to them. I feel more comfortable with them, which is what helps me identify in the first place. He's working towards his PhD, he needs to be working towards how to understand and treat people better and give them a chance on his end before he can even begin to help others. Clearly his presumptions were his downfall -- basing who I am on stereotypes, rather than actually getting to know me.

I have never had to defend myself in such a manner as he put me thru tonight, in tears. If this is how you treat people, then shit man, you need more help than I do identifying as a minority. I have no ill blood towards you, but you missed out on probably one of the greatest people you could have ever met.