If I had a dollar for every time a person asked me, "Oh, I thought you were black?," I would be super rich! Not just a little rich, but rich, rich!
So within my other business (recovery service here in Florida) I went to check in on a client. Her sister and I were having a conversation on how she wasn't scared to go to Dominican Republic for surgery and language wasn't a barrier. She said the exact words, " They speak better English and more of it over there than here in Miami."
Me: The history of Cuba has affected the Miami community for years. Miami is a clone of Cuba and Haiti. (I mentioned there were a lot of Cubans).
This led her to the heart-wrenching question of...
Her: Well, what are you? - (For some reason my heart sinks in a little every time I'm asked because subconsciously I have a flashback to my younger days where my peers didn't accept who I was).
Me: My mom (her dad) is Puerto Rican and (her mom) was African American and Caucasian. My father is Belizean.
Her: Oh well damn, you ain't Black!
(When I tell you I gave her straight look and did't blink once).
Me: Yes I am black. What makes me not? (Like she could't be serious).
Her: Well, if you didn't grow up eating Fried chicken, collard greens, and drinking sweet tea, you ain't black.
Had to let her know, actually I did grow up eating that plus more. Baby I'm cornbread and Spanish rice fed! Besides, that isn't what makes someone black. Where does these standards of what makes someone a Latina or "Black" come from?
She led with the, " Wow, I thought you were black til you said something. You're like that Amara girl from Love and Hip Hop Miami."
In my head, I wanted to say, " Eff Your Latina Standards." What's your Eff your Latina standards story?