I remember growing up in Hialeah, FL. We lived in a Cuban neighborhood where even the Stop signs said ALTO.  There were 2 water coolers in the Kwik Chek grocery, one for “white”, one for “colored”. My brother and I used to sneak drinks out of the colored one thinking we might start turning brown.  My mom was olive skinned with long black hair and looked very Cuban.  I look just like her except I’m a very beige and blonde version.   There was a big discrimination against the Cubans back then and everyone assumed my mom was Cuban, especially where we lived.  I remember once in the car, we pulled up to a stoplight and the car ahead of us has a bumper sticker that said “Honk if you love Jesus.”  Well, we love Jesus so Mom honks her horn.  The woman in the car flips her the bird and shouts out the window: “F*cking spics can’t wait for the light to change.”  My poor mom was mortified.  

We’re basically all mutts at this point in evolution, no matter what someone looks like.  Back when I was like 7 when I thought the water turned people “colored” I thought how brave it was for someone to drink it on purpose, especially since they didn’t seem to get treated very well by “whites.”  When I asked my mom why some people would choose to be black (we were told to call it then) she told me that God choose them to help bear the burdens of the world.  I thought that was so noble and courageous of them.  Like signing up for the draft to protect your country, but this was better, it was for the whole world!  So each one I felt was like the high pope or something inside, and that it was a secret they all knew among themselves.  Like they were on their holy mission.  Sometimes a construction co-worker of my dad’s came over, and I’d be fascinated thinking “this guy is just a carpenter but he’s also a secret holy person carrying my suffering”.  I felt so glad they made house calls and was glad there were so many around to do that.  Funny the things we think when we’re kids.