The recent racial events have sparked certain feelings that I have suppressed for many years. These moments of injustice and subtle systemic racism bring me to express my experience as a Puerto Rican-American, Latina.

I am a person of color; however, my skin is not black or brown. So, where do I fit within this category? This identification continues to be the profile that follows me throughout life and the magnet that connects me to a racial term that is misleading. So why does this matter, you might ask?

Some may say that I am not Puerto Rican because I was born in the United States, but the reality is that the cultural upbringing instilled in me defined who I am. While the home was where language and culture were preferred and celebrated, the society depicted me as a Spic when they could label me for being soundly different.

In the mid-60s

My family was a victim of a riveting fire that caused unexpected homelessness and relocation to a public housing development. A neighborhood where Jewish residents lived and a Boston section where blacks settled in and bought homes. That influx of blacks was the proliferation of white residents fleeing to the suburbs, known as the “white flight.” We were one of the first Latino families to move to the projects, as it was called.

In the mid-70s

Not aware or even fully understanding what was happening around me, there was a political court order to implement the Racial Imbalance Act: busing and desegregation. The execution of the Act exasperated the racial tensions that were already in turmoil and accelerated whites’ departure. Imagine being a young person in the middle of a political and civil rights crisis trying to understand her own racial identity and being at the mercy of others to lead the way. These crises oppressed my sense of belonging and genuinely tainted my place in the community. The Act’s implementation was impactful, highlighting a level of shame and embarrassment about my culture and identity that I could not fathom.

Desegragation Busing

To make things more complicated, the State of Massachusetts enacted the bilingual education law, where Latino students got bused to schools outside their community, and I was one of them. Surprisingly, the City assigned me into a bilingual program with students who only spoke Spanish, creating a sense of confusion. That abrupt assignment was difficult given that my educational experience was primarily attending classes in English.

Growing up in a predominantly black neighborhood as a white Latina during busing and desegregation will forever live in my memory as a time of invisibility and hidden individuality. Being bused around the inner City undeniably created racial discord among cultures that injured my being. As I attempted to venture outside my bubble, I was bullied, dismissed, and judged by blacks, browns, and whites. These mistreatments were heart-wrenching, teaching me the survival construct that shaped my reality into silence while creating barriers that suppressed the injustices endured and the skills needed to navigate a persistent structural racist system.

I, too, have experienced a system designed to persecute minorities from accessing education, health care, housing, and employment which are basic fundamental necessities. I cannot even imagine how my parents had the courage to fight through every taunt, push, shove, beat, and tolerating the injustices so that the family can have a better life in the future. As a first Puerto Rican American generation like my parents, My siblings and I paid a personal price to send a political message of presence that escalated to verbal and physical assault by those outside our bubble. They freely inflicted their anger, frustration, and racial disagreements upon us.

Moving Forward

I can live my life with anger at those who hurt my family and me; however, I choose to fight against those who use power, words and language to intimidate. As I reflect on my experiences, whether in the community, the workplace or elsewhere I am reminded that people’s self-interest, stereotype, bias and prejudice is within them and it is not my responsibility to educate them but to speak up when it is necessary. Now, in terms of the political and racial terms used to define a person of color? I believe it is misleading and dismissive to those whose skin color is not black or brown, leaving us excluded and invisible within our race and as a person of color in America.

Here are some of my learned lessons

• Forgive those who do not know better.
• Be aware of those subtle and unexplained feelings or assumptions…….clarify for understanding.
• Lead with truth and perspective in a non-judgmental way.

I am a proud Puerto Rican who does not allow others to define me, who does not apologize for who I am, and who speaks up for equity and equality. 

All said and done; I know that the truth always prevails! I, too, matter as a person of color…..do you?