Mistaken Identity

gulp
(glp)
v. gulped, gulp·ing, gulps
1. To swallow greedily or rapidly in large amounts.
2. To choke back by or as if by swallowing.
1. To choke or gasp, as in swallowing large amounts of liquid.
2. To swallow air audibly, as in nervousness.
1. The act of gulping.
2. A large amount swallowed at one time.

I've recognized 2 things in the past few minutes. 1. Gulping is spelled with one P. Shame on all of you for not correcting me! (How did I ever get into college?) If you had trouble finding the site it's because I couldn't rest without changing the website address. 2. Gulping is an understatement for the whirlwind experience I am on. My old boss used to liken information overload to a dog trying to drink out of a fire hose. That's a pretty accurate assessment of my life right now. On some days, I am downright drowning. Between that and the mental exhaustion trying to process all that I have experienced, I just haven't found the energy to blog. I can't say its been for lack of things to tell you, because they are plentiful.

I'll begin with the fact that Tina (not her real name) and I have moved into a new home. I neglected to mention that I am here with another divinity student. She's a real sweetheart. True story: When I heard Tina and I would be sharing this experience together I was anxious to find out more about her. We share a mutual friend who happens to be Latina. I had always heard amazing things about Tina from our friend. I also recalled her Latino boyfriend soliciting Spanish speaking men to help her with a prison ministry she would be starting in the second semester. My first few conversations with Tina were good. She was considerate, and clearly loved the Lord. Our mutual friend told me Tina was an AMAZING person, filled with the Holy Spirit. I was pleased and knew we'd be just fine.

I arrived in Jackson about 5 days before Tina. In the interim, we had a number of conversations on the phone. During one phone call, Tina told me that I would be really helpful to her because she was sure there might be a number of things that she might miss, being white and all --

Was she serious?

I mean, I am not one who says that all people of color have to claim their ethnicity, or count themselves in the minority bunch, but I have to admit, I was confused. Ok, I might not be being as honest as I should here. I was annoyed. You know that type of annoyed black people get when they hear about Tiger Woods calling himself Cablasian, or when Mariah and J Lo dye their hair blond so that they look a little more "mainstream". Ultimately it is a smack in the face - as if its ok to want to sing "urban songs, and sell them to urban people while always making sure not to be mistaken for Black." Later that night I incredulously relayed the story to my BF. I think my exact words were, "She is one of those."

Its funny to me that I was so offended that a Hispanic woman would refer to herself as White, after all, it is common practice for many Hispanic people to do this. Cubans, and people from parts of Spain are much quicker to refer to themselves as White than Spanish. I knew this, so why was I so angry? Furthermore, why can't people label and categorize themselves as they see fit? Is is anyone else's business? For me, I think, like many minorities, we become offended by those who are unwilling to live within the confines of a minority label. This is not so much because we don't want people to supersede these labels, but because of the hurt it causes when we see our kin shake blackness and brownness off as if it is some kind of disease they are recovering from.

After spending a few days living with Tina I found her to be just as amazing as our friend had described, she was well adjusted, loving and had a tremendous heart for her fellow man and woman. We had shared meals, fears, expectations, and laughter together when finally, for the sake of authenticity, I had to ask - Tina, do you speak Spanish fluently? ( I figured I'd ease into it.)
"No. I can speak a bit, maybe enough to get by," She replied.
Oh, are both of your parents Hispanic?
She looked at me strangely. No both of my parents are from the South.
What? I laughed. You aren't Hispanic at all?
What? she said, laughing. No. Where did you get that?
I don't know, our mutual Hispanic friend? Your boyfriend? The prison ministry, your almost Spanish sounding last name? I guess since Hispanic people were my point of entry with her, and we were to be doing reconciliation work together, I assumed she was Hispanic.
Her giggling erupted into out and out howling. No. I'm white.
Had we not become so close in the past couple of days I would have been embarrassed, but between her being so tickled and my relief that she wasn't one of those, the clearing of the air took us one step close toward true fellowship.

Since that conversation I have been intrigued by my need to make people identify themselves so I may put them into some sort of category. Its funny how a person's identity must be approved by those they are interacting with at the moment. As we have learned through this experience, a Hispanic person in the United States identifying themselves as white just won't do. :) But its interesting to see what happens when you become the victim of the categories people attempt to impose on you. Just this afternoon as the gardener watched as I used my key to open the door to my home away from home, he looked confused. Mind you the house I am living in is easily worth at least a million dollars. (Wealthy parishioners from the church I am assigned to were gracious enough to invite me into their home) Needless to say, my brown skin, getting darker by the day in the hot Mississippi sun, and my strikingly un-permed hair betray me, causing all those who encounter me to do a double take.

The gardener, did I mention he was black, stared at me, desperately trying to figure out what the heck was going on. Finally he said, "Your the cleaning lady -- right? "

No Sir I replied. Just a friend of the family...

I wondered if he thought to himself, "Hmmm. One of those."