Habla espanol?

At the gas station yesterday I was pumping and heard someone walk up behind me. I turned around to see these guys standing next to my car. >>>>

Odd in general but then one of 'em asked me "Habla Espanol?"

I just looked at him with I'm sure a weird mug on my face and said "No."

What the what??!

Then they walked away.

The guy pumping next to me was looking at the dudes walking away. I asked him "It is weird that those men just asked if I spoke spanish?"

He got way too excited and said "Who? Those JEWS?! No way."

Life isn’t fair – oh yeah, and your bunnies are dead

As the daughter of not one but two military parents, there were many hard lessons to be learned in our house growing up. Saturday morning was for cleaning before you could do anything fun; it is never appropriate to chase your little brother with a baseball bat; and assault rifles use an intermediate cartridge with a detachable magazine.

But there is a lesson learned that is so vivid in my head, I had to share it with you.

My sister and I had two cute little bunnies that we kept in a small cage in our backyard. Sherry’s bunny was all white and so she adequately named it Snowball. I called mine Jennifer.

(Stupid, I know)

Anyway every day after school we would run home, go straight through the house and into the backyard to see our soft and cuddly bunnies. Until one day…

Our mom stopped us before we opened the back door and had this look on her face.
“Girls, I have something to tell you. The big dog that lives next door jumped the fence and got into the bunny cage. Your bunnies are dead. Go outside and see.”

Sherry and I walked our sad, crying little selves over to the bloody cage. Bits of bone and fur were still there, but Jennifer and Snowball had gone to bunny heaven. I don’t know where the dog had run off to…

We just stood by the crate with tears in our eyes and mom came over to us. She said “Hey life isn’t fair” and proceeded to cleanup what was left of our tiny pets.

Blunt.

I mean DANG mom! Can I get some sympathy up in here? But that’s how she was, that’s how she still is, and I love her for it. You gotta learn these things at some point – why not 2nd grade?

Por que no estan en la escuela

I attended a conference last week where the topic was Race and Sexuality. It was put on by the local STD clinic, Planned Parenthood, and other health related groups. We had lots of interesting discussions about race and how it impacts our access to care, especially for sexual health concerns.

During one exercise we had to list stereotypes people have given to certain groups. (Please note these were stereotypes being discussed by a group and not personal opinion.)

We talked about Asian people being good at math, black people being athletic, etc. etc. Since we have a very strong Latino population here in San Diego, we spent a long time discussing people who speak Spanish and the sometimes negative feelings it brings about in others. Sentiments such as “You live in America, you should speak English” were brought up and the concern that when someone switches to another language, it’s because they are talking about YOU.
Lastly we talked about young black women – their attire, lack of ambition, and that they are typically loud. It was a very powerful presentation considering we had plenty of students in attendance that dispelled those myths…

So 30 minutes later I am at lunch by myself across the street from where the conference is taking place. Next to me are two older Mexican women eating and talking. In front of us are two black high school girls that are ordering. I am on the phone with a friend while the girls are ordering and my friend asks “who is yelling in the background?” As the girls continued to talk and order, I hear the women next to me say, in Spanish, “Why are those girls so loud? Por qué son esas chicas tan fuerte? Why aren’t they ever in school? Por qué no están en la escuela?”

Classic.