During elementary school, getting verbally abused was almost an everyday occurrence. The dirty looks that people gave me were blatantly obvious. I learned how to get used to the jokes I would hear. I was never sure if it was because they were scared, or if they were intimidated by my looks. This was the worst time for the abuse because of the immaturity of the kids during the first few years of school.

There were not many minorities in our classes at the elementary level, so many people did not know how to interact with me and chose to not talk to me. There were those who were simply mean because they did not know how to treat people who were different from them. This could have been because they had not experienced different cultures. These kids did not understand what they were talking about; they had no filter and repeated whatever their parents would say. This led to many highly racist comments that seemingly could not be controlled.

The constant jokes about mowing the lawn or eating spicy foods did not seem like much at the time, but they did have a lasting impact on me. These situations have taught me to learn how to take the insults and brush them off. At such a young age it was tough to take all of the negativity and be able to grow from it, but This led to me becoming more mature and able to become the person I am today. I never had a negative view on anyone because of the things they said to me, but I knew that some of those people simply didn’t get it.

As these immature kids became older, it became obvious who had grown to accept my race, and who could still not handle it. I became friends with most of the people who accepted me for me, and were not scared of my race. I was actually a great friend to those who invited me into their lives. I learned to zone out and avoid the ones who were not capable of  treating me as an equal. In a way, the ones who would make fun of me and call me names were the ones who shaped the person I am today. I am somewhat grateful to them because the person I am is proud of my race and I am glad to be who I am today.

There were times when my family has experienced the feeling of racial profiling. My mother is very fair and does not look like the stereotypical Mexican woman, and she does not receive some of the harsher comments that others do. People are surprised to find out that she is Mexican. My father, on the other hand, is the classic Mexican man. He has a bushy mustache and is pretty short and bulky. He is at risk for much more racial profiling than my mother, and my brother and I for that matter.

My family owns a restaurant called Fryes, and when people ask for the owners, most of them are shocked by the fact that they are Mexicans. They would suspect a middle aged white man to be the owner, and do not even glance at the fact that owners of a successful businesses could be Mexican. Some people are even disgusted by the fact that Mexicans are in charge of the food that they eat.

Out in public, no one really attacks our family verbally, but we do notice the stares. People give us some mean glares from across the room, or stare for an uncomfortable amount of time. They may think that we are lower than them or that we are too dumb to realize that they are staring, but it is extremely obvious.

The worst is when my family and I try to go shopping at higher end stores. It should not matter what color skin you have or how you look; what should matter is the product you want to buy. So when my family and I enter a higher end store, we get looks from the employees like we do not belong.

Like we should be shopping elsewhere.

Like we are outsiders.

This has left an impact on me by not being able to go to some of my favorite stores without getting the usual staredown by the cashier or store employee. Some of the time that I am in the store they will try their best to not allow me to touch the merchandise.

My situation will only get worse before it gets better. Everybody is on edge about the new border policies and racial sentiments in the U.S. and beyond that arrived with the new president. This may put more people at ease, or maybe some will start to think of me in a different way; or my skin color will become a badge of ridicule and pain. No matter what, a majority cannot understand what it means to means to carry “hate” with you each and every day. The jokes about my family and I leaving when Donald Trump was elected have already started. I am not worried for my family or myself, but I am worried about the other Mexicans who are near the border where racism is at its highest. The fact that my family and I have to worry about Trump supporters abusing us, whether that be verbal or physical, is frightening because there are so many around the country.

In the future, I hope that other Mexicans will be able to walk around without the constant insults and derogatory remarks. I cannot wait for the day when we are all seen as equals.