Race and Ethnicity Commons^™

Border X-Ing, Alicia A. Castro

SURGE

The sun out-stretched its bright arms in an embrace with the mesquite trees that beckoned upwards. The wind greeted the clothes drying upon delicate wire while my mother meticulously placed white towels in the light and the jeans under the shade of the Arizona Ash. The washboard sits upright in the bucket full of suds and other assorted laundry. Inside the shed there is both a working dryer and washer only a few years old, but she has chosen to do this chore outside. Here she can close her eyes and be back in Mexico with the dry heat and …

A Difference Of Appearance, Charlotte H. Moreno

SURGE

Appearance can seem like it’s everything.

My father is from California; his parents are from Mexico and El Salvador. He has tan skin and dark hair and is bilingual in English and Spanish. My mom, though also from California, is a combination of Irish, Cuban, and Hungarian. She passed on her fair skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes to me. [excerpt]

A Confession Of A Blonde Asian Girl, Michelle Lee

SURGE

I never realized I was an Asian.

Nor was I aware I was from South Korea.

The thought of identifying myself as Asian was redundant for I was, indeed, from Asia where Asian people lived. So when I no longer lived amongst “my own people,” I was immediately labeled, “Asian.” However, I wasn’t exactly excited about the new label. Not that I was in denial of my Asian heritage, but I didn’t comprehend people’s continuous need to point out the obvious. Yes, I am Asian, but you are only looking at a microscopic part of me. My ethnicity had no …

My Life As A Labelmaker, Hannah M. Frantz

SURGE

It’s easy to label to people. I find it particularly easy at Gettysburg College. When I assign a label to someone, it’s like it appears in big red letters across their forehead. Sometimes my snap judgment comes from what they’re wearing. Salmon colored pants? FRATERNITY, BRO, PREP. Sometimes it comes from what they say. “Dude that chick’s a femi-nazi.” MISOGYNIST, PRIVILEGED, JERK. My judgment comes from all sorts of different places but the important part is that my initial judgment sticks. It sits there, tattooed on people’s foreheads, staring at me, and it’s the only thing I see from that …