The Injustice of Being Called By A Name That Is Not Your Name
The interchangeable names you can call a Hispanic away from home
“Juan,” the nurse in the waiting room called out.
“Juan,” she repeated.
I was busy sitting with my daughters on the little indoor playground, waiting for them to be called, when an older white woman approached me and told me, “They are looking for you.”
Can you believe it?
The racism. The privilege.
The… Okay, fine, I’m kidding.
I couldn’t care less.
Honestly, I thought it was hysterical. I live for these interactions. It was priceless to see her face when I calmly told her, “Yeah, no, I heard.”
“But that’s not me,” I added. “It could be me. I guess I can be a Juan.”
Because it’s true, we can all be Juan. By all I mean all of us Latino males.
The woman’s face dropped; she tried to recover with an “Oh, I’m so sorry he dresses just like you.”
Now, people, let me tell you. I didn’t look like Juan, and he did not dress like me.
That’s not to say anything about how Juan dresses or looks. We are just different as sometimes people from…
