Cool little brown Girl

I grew up near the San Ysidro port of entry in San Diego, Ca. My parents are both from Tijuana, Mexico. My dad was adopted by my grandfather who was Puerto Rican and as such, an American citizen.  I was raised by Immigrants, a father who had the privilege of living his youth on the northern side of the border and a mother who like most immigrants, crossed the border on a daily basis to attend school until she and her siblings were given permanent residence.

I am the first generation born and raised in the United States, Mexican American, Hispanic, however, you want to say it. I cannot begin to comprehend the emotions and fear that our Latinx counterparts are currently enduring due to our political climate. My heart goes out to them and I will continue to pray that justice is served for those who have been wronged, however, this isn’t a post about them.

I grew up in a home where my father was educated, spoke perfect English and my mom was a stay at home mom who attempted to take English classes at night. It wasn’t necessary, over the years she learned to speak English through her kids, while it’s not perfect, she has been speaking English for most of her adult life.

When I was young my family traveled a lot due to my dad’s job. We had the privilege of driving cross country and visiting every state in the process. We saw things and experienced new places in great part due to his perseverance and unwillingness to settle in his career.

We spent a few years living in Georgia and then in South Carolina, where I was known as the little Mexican girl. I didn’t care, I was from California and that made me the cool little brown girl from the west coast. I thrived on who I was even as a child. While all the local girls had blonde hair and blue eyes, I had long espresso colored hair and dark brown eyes. giphy

There were other Hispanic girls there for the same reason I was but I found myself drawn to a different crowd. My African American friends, yes the black girls made me feel like I was just one of the girls! They fiercely defended me when anyone said anything about how I spoke or why I had an accent. (For the record the only accent I have is the one all Mexican girls have… it’s not really an accent, it’s just the way we talk.)

All our years of travel and relocation allowed me to grow up knowing that we are all different, we all come from different places and have different backgrounds. I have never disliked someone because of something that is out of their control. I am grateful for the job my dad held for over 30 years, I am proud of him for having the career that he did and being the man that he is.

In today’s society due to political outrage, my father would not be seen as such a hero.

My dad retired from The US Border Patrol last year and I am so grateful that he did due to the monstrosity that is immigration reform in today’s society. While I see him for the man he truly is other people may not have. I grew up in a time where having a father working in the Border Patrol was something I could brag about. What about now? What about these kids who have parents that are agents now? In today’s society where they are villainized, how can these kids not be afraid to say, “My parent is a Border Patrol Agent.” What about their spouses who do not know what their next shift may bring… I remember praying to God, on many occasions, that my dad would make it home safe. That was just normal fear and anxiety because I knew my dad carried a gun for a living.  I’m sure all families that have a parent, spouse or relative in law enforcement can relate but now, today, the way things are, I can’t imagine.

Listen, I’m not blind or in denial. The state of our immigration situation is dire and I’m not a fool, not all agents are stand up but before you judge or before you say something that you don’t know too much about, remember these agents have families that they want to get home to. These agents have jobs to do and they abide by a set of morals we may never understand.

My dad told many stories where he was often called a “traidor” by his Mexican counterparts.

He also told stories of how they(Agents) leave basic necessities in the desert, like water and blankets for those who have crossed and find themselves in dire need.

Not everything is black and white. Things are very blurry in our political climate and it’s a scary time not just for immigrants but also for these men and women who have a job to do, families to support, mouths to feed. A government job is a job, a job with benefits and perks, isn’t that what we strive for?

My intent in this post wasn’t to upset anyone, I’m not in agreement with the way things are being handled or not handled. I just have a different perspective and a personal point of view. After all, we are all people with emotions and opinions. Speak yours as I have spoken mine.

 

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This is America.

My family and I have been dealing with a case of itchiness. We’re not sure what’s going on but 3 weeks ago I broke out into hives. I went to urgent care because it is impossible to get in to see my doctor in a reasonable amount of time. I was told there that it was not scabies but they couldn’t tell me what it was. I was given a prescription and sent on my way. The medication I received worked miracles, my rash was gone in a matter of minutes, but the itch sensation has remained.

My daughter and my boyfriend are also itchy. After consulting Dr. Google my boyfriend, who you should know is a total germaphobe, decided that we have scabies. So off we all go to urgent care, a different urgent care than the one I went to by myself.

Of course, this urgent care does not accept my daughter and me’s insurance so they refer us to one that does just right down the street.  I wish I would have just paid the $125 fee to be seen there and saved myself the aggravation.

It was about 6:45 when we walked in, they close at 8, we were not greeted with a smile or concern, we got a dry ass “Hello”, I replied with “Hi, my daughter and I both need to be seen.”

“Well, we have over an hour wait.”

Ok, so that comment alone might not mean much except exactly what it states but her tone was outta control. I work customer service so I know how much it sucks when someone walks in 10 min to closing, I was ready to give her the benefit of the doubt, even though they didn’t close for over an hour.

“That’s fine.” I smiled in reply.

“Ok, I need your IDs.” still dry.

“I have my ID but she doesn’t have one.” I point to my daughter.

“Oh, then I can’t help you.” She quickly dismissed us.

“She’s a minor, so she doesn’t have one,” I reply

“Oh, ok we can just use yours.”

“I don’t have the physical medical ID cards but..”

She was quick to cut me off, “Oh, well we need those.”

“Yeah, I have them in the app.”

“No, no, that won’t work we need the ID numbers.”

“Yes, the ID cards are in the app.” I start to get annoyed and I’m sure my face reflected it.

“Ok, email them here.” she hands me a paper with an email on it.

As I’m emailing her the ID cards two white women walk in and this is what I hear from the dry, unhappy receptionist.

“Hello Ladies, how can we help you today?”

I turn to see the two white women standing behind us.

“Yes, of course, we will be right with you ladies.”

I was livid. Why didn’t they get a weak ass greeting? Why weren’t they told that it was over an hour wait?

My name and my daughter’s names were placed on the waiting list on the TV where you can see how many people are ahead of you. The white woman’s name was placed behind ours. When my name was at the top of the list, meaning I was next, the white woman was called back. I was pissed but then they brought her back out, she had gone back for x-rays and then brought back out, ok that’s fine. We waited and were now the only people in the waiting room. They opened the door and guess who they called back, not us!! We sat there and waited. I sat there going over the whole encounter in my head.

Was this really happening?

By the time they called us back, they asked if we wouldn’t mind being seen together, I agreed.

They did the intake and it was maybe 8:15, this white doctor comes in and says, “I understand you’re both dealing with itchy skin.”

We nod.

“Ok, well I’ve seen about 14 to 15 people in the last couple hours, you being 14 and her 15,” he points to my daughter. “I’m not a dermatologist so there isn’t much I can do except refer you to one.”

At this point my boyfriend has been prescribed 4 different medications in an attempt to cure the itch, he was told it was not scabies.

The doctor we were seeing didn’t even attempt to examine our skin until I said, “My boyfriend was seen down the street, told it was not scabies and prescribed 4 different medications, including an anti-fungal pill just in case.”

He mumbled something and then checked my back, “This is because you’ve been scratching.” He didn’t even check my daughter.

He mentioned that two of his nurses had to leave at 8 and that he had dinner plans that would not be interrupted.

“I’ll prescribe you something for the itch.”

He left only to return and then check my daughter, just the skin he could see, she was in a tank top.

He told me that if my boyfriend’s medication helped that I could call in and ask for him, he would then prescribe the same medication for us.

I mean, what the fuck was that about?

Did all that really just go down like that?

Ummm, was it because we’re Mexican and not white?

I mean, we’re American, born and raised in the United States so why, why the harsh treatment and quick dismissal. The judgment and dismissal weren’t just by one person in this facility.

A clip from clueless playing in my mind, “This is America.”

The part of the movie where they tell her they have coke available as an option for lunch. I’m a 90s kid so of course as I’m thinking about America and being an American, that pops into my head.

I was so livid when we left that, of course, I argued with my man, it wasn’t his fault but I took it out on him. I told him what happened and he didn’t believe me until I yelped the place. That was wrong and it made me feel so small. No one deserves that kind of treatment, no one!

Have you experienced anything similar? Share with me!