Where Am I From?

Over the years I continue to get a kick out of challenging people when they ask a simple question, “where are you from?”  I would frequently get stopped perhaps because of my dark hair or the way I may pronounce a particular word.  The 15 years I lived in Florida was the exception, however many assumed I was Cuban-American rather than Puerto Rican.

As a child growing up in the DC metro area, I would respond by saying I was Puerto Rican or my family is from the island, nevertheless some people couldn’t believe it.  Sometimes I was told I wasn’t dark enough or because I had freckles.  What the heck does an American look like? Pretty much the same as a Puerto Rican, full of colors, right?  Next thing you know I’m giving a history lesson to friends and strangers!  I would talk about the Taíno Indians, the settlement of the Spaniards (who are European), the slaves from Africa, and the blending of all those cultures.

Now, as an adult, I give less history lessons and focus more on getting people to think deeper.  For instance, last year while taking my son to a new barbershop, I assume that after calling my son’s name (a mix of Italian and Spanish) the barber asked me where I was from.  I replied, “Florida.”  He said, “No, you know what I mean…what’s you’re nationality?”

Nationality?  I don’t have an accent!  If anything I may have a bit of a country south accent that rubbed off on me during my days in Tallahassee and parts of Tampa.  I smirked inside knowing what he really wanted me to say so I responded by saying, “I’m American.”  The barber gave me an irritated look and repeated, “No, you know what I really mean…what’s you’re ethnicity?”

So I explained that my parents are from Puerto Rico (technically I’m an Army Brat who was born in Germany and raised in the states) and since my family is from the island in theory we are American.  However it didn’t matter to him, the Black/African-American barber responded by saying, “I dig, so we are both minorities.”

I decided to escalate the conversation a little more and told him, “Well, to be exact, we are not a minority because if you add our groups together we are a majority.”  I guess he wasn’t amused since when I gave him a $20 bill he seemed to not have enough change to give back to me as if he wanted to keep an $8 tip.  What I did afterwards to get my change back is for another blog!

It’s not the barber’s fault, nor the fault of others for feeling the need to ask what a person’s ethnicity is.  Unlike other countries, we always ask that question from the minute we are born.  From birth certificates to school registrations, from the census to employment applications it will always be imbedded in our minds.  So let me ask you, where are you from?

Angelette Aviles provides insight to what motivates the general market and Hispanics through her communications firm, AMG. She is Vice President of Public Relations with MSGI Corporation. Twitter: @angelette