Racism eases with each generation

Racial slurs should not be used as positive connotations for anyone

by danielle rodriguez <managing editor>

Racism. It’s something I don’t think about myself.

It’s something I don’t want to happen, but I know it does. It happened at North on Nov. 13.

I must be lucky in some way because I’m Mexican and Caucasian, and have never had a racial slur said to me in a negative way. I have had friends who are Mexican call me a dirty Mexican, but never  with  mean-spirited intentions.

Even if someone did call me something bad, I don’t think I would take it in a negative way. It would just show me that people are closed-minded and aren’t able to experience life to an extent of someone who is not prejudiced.

When races call each other by racial slurs, a question nags at me, why do they get to call each other names and mean a positive connotation, but if someone who is a different race used the same name, it has a negative connotation? If someone is to use a bad word, then it should only be used in bad situations, not good, or not as another way of calling someone by their name.

For instance, one day I was watching Cheech and Chong’s Next Movie and Cheech was singing a song about “Beaners.” (“Beaner” is a derogatory name intended for Hispanics, the equivalent to the “N-word” for blacks.) I asked my dad about “Beaner” and he said he would be angry if some “white” person was to say it to him. Then I asked him how he would react if a Mexican was to say the same thing to him. He said he’d be okay with it because he would know that they were kidding.

How does he know that they were kidding, just because he/she is also a Mexican?

I just don’t think that any name calling is fair. Maybe because I learned not to call people names in kindergarten. But then the names were like “dummy” and “meanie head,” racism was a word not in my vocabulary. It stayed that way until third grade, when my Abuelito (Grandpa) told me a nursery rhyme that used a racist name.

Since I was nine, I had no idea what I was saying, until my Grandma cleared it up for me. When she did I was really upset. The fact that my own grandpa would teach me such a foul word was awful, and I was ashamed I had said it so unknowingly.

Although I was a child, I still look back on that situation and wonder how could a grown man teach a child a word that could genuinely affect her life and the lives around her.

I hate that people are so dense to not know that their negative, as well as positive actions, are passed down to the next generations.  However, I am glad that I know right from wrong and that I was brought up with parents that teach their children values.

That is what I think will break racism. If adults actually care enough about their children’s lives to let them make their own decisions and not let one bad incident mold them into people who will not better the world.

Racism is a problem that will probably never be fully solved, but we can work to prevent it from happening. People should be open-minded and wait to judge people until they get to know them. Everyone can see people’s appearances, but only a few can see what a person really is inside.

With all that I have learned so far in life, I know that color doesn’t matter. What does matter is culture. I am able to celebrate two cultures that make up my family and me. Even though I’m a mixture of two races, in the end, I am still a human being.