No More Pink Crosses

On a daily basis, I go about my business pretty much free from fear. My roommate and I keep our door locked, I lock my car, and I try to be aware of my surroundings especially if I am out alone at night. Nothing apart from what would be simple normal precautions. My sisters across the border in Mexico should be so lucky. There is an epidemic of female deaths there. Alejandro Martinez-Cabrera and Lourdes Cardenas of The El Paso Times wrote a good article on the subject. Call it femicide, when we as women are killed simply because we are women. It's like a hate crime involving race, but it involves gender. The term was first coined in 1801 in England.

It's not just in Mexico. It's a worldwide problem with misogynistic roots. The women are usually raped, tortured and/or mutilated before they are actually killed. A serial killer that targets females only, a man who in the throes of domestic violence, kills his partner. In Mexico, the women post-NAFTA are out and about trying to earn money for their families and are easy targets.

If you want to learn more about it, I'd suggest www.stopfemicide.com. Those pink crosses? Es una lastima. (It is a shame.)

Susan

How Do We Sleep?

I have the most beautiful set of luggage. Pink trimmed in black, I named it "Barbie luggage." It was a birthday gift from my former husband when we were married. I still use it and I love it! But it does get me singled out at airport security. Without fail. Every time. A male TSA employee will invariably want to look through the contents of the Barbie bag.

It's my only experience with profiling. You see, I am a white American of European descent, born here in the United States. I have no idea what it's like to worry about a police officer pulling me over when I'm driving. I have no idea what it's like to have to work harder and be smarter, to counteract negative stereotypes about my culture. I can go into any hair salon, and the stylists will know what to do with my hair. I can go into any supermarket, and it's full of the type of food I eat. No one makes fun of my "accent." I can buy a car or rent an apartment and never be concerned about discrimination.

My apartment complex has many residents of Mexican descent. Since I am learning Spanish, I occasionally talk to them in my "toddlerese" Spanish. My first sentence is that I am studying Spanish in college, because I don't want to patronize them or give them the idea I don't think they speak English. They all speak way better English than I do Spanish. I have found that my neighbors are overwhelmingly friendly and helpful, although somewhat bemused at my approach. They will gently correct me when I use the wrong word or tense of a verb. One day in the laundry room, a lovely older lady named Juana and I conversed. In Spanish class, we had just finished a chapter about clothing, so as I took my clothes out of the dryer, I told her about my red sweater, my yellow shirt and my green dress.

We white people can come off as really arrogant sometimes. I especially dislike how "immigration" and "protecting our borders against terrorists" and "homeland security" have given people permission to hate those of Mexican descent. It's a political football, and all it does is encourage the haters. Certainly immigration needs to be reformed, but not this way. I think some have forgotten a huge part of California history. California used to belong to Mexico. It's odd how we white people go around taking what isn't ours, then persecuting the very people we took it from. California is a very big and wonderful state. Surely we can find a way to solve some of our problems without all the hating. The white people who do that make me wonder. How do they sleep at night?

Susan

The lyrics to "Beds are Burning" are by Peter Garrett.