Tonight rugrat and I finally got our mexican dinner we'd been looking forward to. Carne asada, mmmm mmmmm!
And then she dropped a profound bombshell in my lap. She said she has friends who tell her that she needs to remember that she's not all Mexican. That she is, in fact, half 'white.' Her response: I don't see myself as white. But, her friends say, your mother is white, so how can you not see the white in you?
Because, she says, I've never seen my mami as white. She is the one who has shown me my culture...the food, the language, the people. She helps me with my spanish, she makes sure we have Mexican friends in our life, she cooks traditional foods, we participate in cultural things, and she taught me to be proud of who I am. She has a better accent than some spanish speaking people, and if you put her in a room with a bunch of latinos, she will be at home and look and sound like one of them. If I think of her as white, I think of her as a white Mexican.
Wow. I didn't know what to say to that. So I just kept quiet, and let her keep talking.
Conversation eventually moved on to boyfriends. She talked about cooking for the new 'unofficial' boyfriend. Compared his response to her serving him -- he is always grateful, and shows it -- to her old boyfriend, who never even said thank you. I don't mind cooking for someone when they appreciate it, she said. It's when they take it for granted that it makes me mad.
Who knew almost-16-year-olds had such little kernals of wisdom hiding inside them?