Race Monologues
Bard 2014 Race Monologue (Draft)
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Latino Fe/male
I’m Mexican on both sides. And I went to school in Southern California. Growing up Latino,
Mexican in LA, you don’t really have to learn English. I didn’t speak English with my mom
growing up. I spoke Spanish at home. I learned English by watching television. Television was
kind of my portal to American culture. That’s how I developed my sense of what I thought the
world was supposed to be like- it’s why I like traditional Christmases and blah blah blah. I didn’t
grow up with those things. I did not grow up with pot roast dinners, things like that. Everyone
else had pot roast dinners and whatever, and we would have carne asada dinners and tacos and
burritos. !
In school, I was put in a bilingual education class because it was California, very liberal
progressive blah blah blah. It’s these people who think it must be hard to learn a second language
so we’re gonna slowly transition you and have half of your classes be in Spanish. Really what it
was was a form of segregation, because I wasn’t in the classes with the white kids, I was in the
classes with the brown kids. It wasn’t like grade level in a different language- it was very very
remedial. !
I was in this bilingual class 2nd grade, 3rd grade, 4th grade. In 5th grade, this teacher was like, “You’re obviously super advanced. I want you to go to this math class.”
It was like the 6th grade math class. It was kind of unheard of, for 5th graders to go to another
grade level for math class. So I leave class to go there. I remember feeling scared and selfconscious, because I knew our curriculum was behind. I was afraid of looking like an idiot,
afraid about the holes in my education. !
When I shifted to this regular class, my Latino friends in my bilingual class didn’t want to be
friends with me anymore, because they saw me as being a traitor or something. Then the white
kids, they’d been through all of elementary school together, I was the outsider. But by the time I
went to middle school, most of my friends at that point were white. The Latino kids in my
middle school would actually be like, (those in the background of the Hispanic group): “Why do you have to be a white sell out? Why do you have to dress so white? Why do you have to talk so white?” …So they weren’t very interested in talking to me. !
All my friends were white that I hung out with. I could relate to them, understand their humour,
you know we were all watching Friends or whatever. But occasionally things would happen that
would mark the difference: we are not the same. I was a straight A student, I was testing top of
the country, I was in all the honours classes and whatever but I still felt fear of those moments
when something might be brought up that I didn’t know anything about…all these cultural gaps
in my education…discussions about dinner and holiday rituals and traditions and what not…
(those in the background of the White group): “Oh you know, it’s something green beans” (Oh…)
Race Monologues
Nursery rhymes. I always felt cheated on nursery rhymes; I didn’t grow up with their nursery
tales or whatever.
(those in the background of the White group): “Oh you know, Mother Goose” (and I’m like)
“Who, Mother Goose what? “
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Black Male
Eleven years ago, my little sister was stabbed to death outside of her school bus. By another little
girl, another little black girl. So, what’s racist about that, right? Two little black girls, middle
schoolers, eighth grade, get in a fight over a boy, and one is killed. You don’t see the racism.
That’s the point, you don’t see the racism when it’s all around, when it’s a art of the architecture,
the way your neighbourhood is cut up, when it’s a part of the geography of where you live. Look
at the school itself. It used to be a warehouse, right? Part of industry. It still is part of industry,
the prison-industrial complex now. The kids come right out of here and go right into the
cellblock, like they’re moving along this conveyer belt, right? So it’s still a warehouse producing
these kids who know they’re warehoused. How are you gonna be inspired by education when
your walls are grey and polluted? They know no one cares about them, even when they’re little,
they can sense that they’re being warehoused. You’ve seen these suburban grade schools that
look like Ivy League universities, right? That’s the architecture of success. !
So they come out of class everyday, they get recess in an empty lot next to an abandoned office
building. Their jungle gym is what? That parked car that hasn’t been moved since last fall
because you can still see the rotting leaves under it? Their school is a warehouse, their jungle
gym is a broke down car- why is anyone surprised when their toys are knives and needles?
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The schools are poor because the people are poor; in the suburbs they have more money for
education that they know what to do with. The same week my sister was killed, the same week, I
was watching the local news and they had a story about the new Astroturf football field some
high school in the suburbs was getting. Yah,now, they already had a football field, but when it
rained, see it got too muddy to play in so they needed some Astroturf. God that made me so mad.
I was so mad. But it’s not just a money issue, a class issue. Please, please tell me if that
warehouse downtown was filled with white children that the school board would not be up in
arms clamouring for a change. Rasing money from somewhere to buy these children a decent
classroom. Could you picture rows of little blonde heads in that warehouse, playing around in the
vacant lot? It would not happen. No one clamours for change for black children. !
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White Female
I went to a high school where white was the minority. In my graduating class of 150, the number
of white males was five. White girls, like me, for whatever reason, were much more numerous,
and interracial dating was not uncommon. So, it was not a big deal when I began dating my
friend Edwin at the beginning of my freshman year. I had known him for two years, and had met
his mother twice, both of which times she had been very friendly to me. However, about a week
into our relationship, I was sitting in one of my classes when I was called into the house office.
To my surprise, I found Edwin’s mother waiting for me. Race Monologues
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She asked me if I was in a relationship with her son.
Yes.
She took a deep breath and told me politely that she didn’t have any problem with me personally;
I seemed like “a very nice girl”, but that she did not like the idea of her son dating a white girl.
Then she asked me if I would please break it off with him.
I didn’t know what to say, I was shocked. Her politeness threw me off and I mumbled a meek
“okay”, then went directly to the bathroom to cry. !
What was perhaps more surprising than the fact that this woman had come to my school and
pulled me out of class, was that she herself had married someone of a different race. Edwin’s
mother was black and his father was Latino. To her, white was a line just not to be crossed.
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I felt diseased. I was ashamed and angry and scared. More out of embarrassment than anything
else, I broke up with Edwin that night, not giving him any reason. We were able to become
friends again, and a few months later I told him about what his mother had said to me. He was
angry, but not surprised. I didn’t ask why.
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Indian Female
You know how hard it is to find friends as soon as you get to high school. I mean, real friends.
Not people who are trying hard to be something they’re not. Anyways, I found a real friend. Her
name was Nicole and she was white, not that that matter but it came into play later.
So Nicole and I became best friends quickly. We just clicked; there was a really good connection.
We hung out almost every day after school. We were in a lot of the same classes and we were
both good at different subjects so we could help each other. Nicole introduced me to a lot of people. She was really friendly and pretty soon, I had a group of
friends that I really liked. Things were going good. I thought moving to a new area was going to
be hard, but Nicole made everything a little bit easier.
One day, Nicole had a dinner party at her house. She only invited her six closest friends. I was so
excited. I got dressed up in a new dress I bought just for the occasion and carpooled to her
house. The six of us sat around the table with her mom and dad. Her mom was nice, but she
drilled all of us. What was our favourite subject, what did we do in our free time, how many of
us had boyfriends, on and on. She really wanted to make sure that Nicole was hanging out with
the right people.
I had the perfect answers to everything. My favourite subject is English. In my free time I swim
and act. And no, I did not have a boyfriend because my parents wouldn’t approve. For every
question, I gave a very “I’m a little innocent girl” response because I really was a little innocent
girl. !
The next day I called Nicole to go to the movies. (Gets on phone)
“Umm, actually I can’t, I’m doing homework”
Well that ‘s weird, I thought, she said she would be free today. I didn’t think much of it and I called Andrea instead. (Gets on phone)
“Andrea, you want to go to the movies?”
“I can’t. I’m going over to Nicole’s house to swim. Aren’t you coming?”
…(drops phone)…
Race Monologues
So Nicole was having people over and she didn’t invite me, her best friend. More than that, she
lied to me. She said she was doing homework and I doubt her homework is to have a party. So I called her again.
“Nicole, you’re inviting people to swim and you didn’t tell me?”
“Oh…how did you find out?”
“Andrea told me. Why didn’t you tell me? You don’t want me there?”
“Oh no, it’s not that. It’s just that…”
She paused for a long time. Something was wrong. My tone suddenly softened and I was as
sympathetic as possible.
“What’s wrong Nicole?”
“Maia, I’m not allowed to hang out with you anymore. My mom told me that I can’t hang out
with you anymore because you’re Indian. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” (Sobs, slams down phone)
I couldn’t speak- I couldn’t even think. I wasn’t allowed to hang out with my best friend because
I’m Indian. What’s wrong with being Indian? What’s wrong with me?
And just like that everything went wrong. I lost all my friends because they all knew Nicole first
so their loyalties were to her. I was alone. I was confused. I couldn’t stop crying. And all because
Nicole’s mom didn’t like Indians. I wanted to fix the problem and get my best friend back, but
how do you fix the problem when the problem is your skin?
Haitian Fe/male
Oh yes, yes, yah. Yah, I have experienced racism. It’s around. Sometimes obvious, but you know,
sometimes it’s just something you feel. Can’t prove it, can’t say anything against them, but you
feel the looks, the tension, you feel you are not treated the same way. In Miami, things are unique, I think. Well, I don’t know because I never lived anywhere else in
the United States. I was born in Haiti, and I came here when I was fourteen. But Miami, there are
people from so many places. But a lot of people from the islands. A lot. A lot of Cubans,
Dominicans, Puerto Ricans, you know. Sometimes I feel discriminated against because I don’t
speak Spanish. Or left out. But you know, I understand. In my community, we speak our
language when we are together, because, well, you know, it’s more easy, it’s more comfortable.
So if all the Puerto Ricans and Cubans were all Haitians, we would all be speaking our language
all the time. So really, I don’t blame them for wanting to speak Spanish all the time. I can
understand Spanish a lot. From living here in Miami. But. But, I think people treat Haitians different. I do. There are stereotypes. We are black. Lots of
people in my community say we are not black. They are very serious about that. They don’t want
the stereotypes you hear about “African Americans” attached to us. So we are not black. But
people look at us and they see black people. Black people with funny accents, but black people. !
White Male
It was pretty early on that I began thinking about race. The one thing I remember was like fourth
grade and one of the Hispanic kids in my gym class, like, threw a ball at me, hit me in the head
and I got mad at him. And he called me a white cracker. And honestly thinking about how it was
a silly thing to get upset about it, but it was the first time I’d been called anything based on my
race, not necessarily the way I looked, or the way I talked, but this broad, kind of…anyway, it
definitely made me realize, like, there is this division between us, between me and this other kid,
and it’s going to be difficult to get across. There’s always gonna be this separation and I don’t
know where that comes from. And it was frustrating, at the time, to feel like suddenly there are
Race Monologues
so many people who I can’t relate to, or who will refuse to relate to me, based on that. And it
made me sad, I guess.
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Jewish Female
Well, I’ve grown up in West Virginia, since I was three. For the most part, being Jewish was
never a huge issue. I’ve not personally experienced anything that has harmed me permanently or
made me bitter. But there are definitely differences in being Jewish in a rural community as
opposed to an urban community. For example, the KKK is alive and well in our area. Not that
it’s spoken of a lot, but there are very large, active chapters in this region. Which results in
graffiti art on our synagogue doors, or our cemeteries often get…we try to keep them private, as
far as, we don’t advertise where they are. But a lot of times, stones get knocked down, that sort
of thing. After September 11th, there was…we had to put an alarm system in our synagogue. And
people tried to break in, and they posted a note on our front door that blamed the Jews for
September 11th, because if the Jews weren’t in the United States, then, you know, Al Qaeda
would have no reason to attack us. So that was a different take on that event! People don’t
normally blame the Jews for that one. That was interesting…
I would say I’m proud to be Jewish…and I always have been…but it’s also something I feel like
I hide…when I shouldn’t. It’s a convenient minority to be, because most of the time, it’s not, you
don’t walk into a room and people know you’re Jewish. So therefore it’s very convenient to hide
it or not mention it. And I don’t. Growing up I knew I was different from other people. I
remember when I was in kindergarten my teacher pulled me aside and told me not to tell the
other kids that Santa Claus was not real. And looking back, that’s one of the moments when I’ve
felt very singled out. Just because I was Jewish they automatically assumed that one, I didn’t
have a Santa Claus because some Jewish kids do, and two, that I was going to tell everyone that
Santa Claus wasn’t real. That was probably my first memory of me being different. !
Black (African) Female
I have no idea where to begin. I think to some degree, the way people process information, the
way we communicate as individuals, is really relevant to our race, our cultural background, and
the way that we were raised. The way that you’re raised has a lot to do with your culture which
has a lot to do with your race. I definitely myself have experienced racism in many different
ways, whether it was job interviewing, or being followed in a store, you know, typical things that
happen, for the most part. But I’ve also experienced racism from within the black American
community here, as a black person myself. !
Latino Female
I want us all to be equal, but I’m really proud of my race. I love being Latina. I work it. When
some guy comes into the store and he’s Hispanic, I speak to him in Spanish and he respects me.
He’ll do stuff for me. Like I get free car tune ups and free food, stuff like that, girl.
My Latin community is strong. My neighbourhood is all Latinos and we speak Spanish at home.
My little boy grew up bilingual- he speaks English and Spanish, he’s so smart. I want him to
learn English and go to an English school, but he needs to keep his Spanish. He needs to visit
Mexico and remember where he comes from.
His daddy was light so he came out looking almost white. He could pass for white. He’s cute too,
he’s gonna be able to get any girl he wants, even the white girls hahaha. Race Monologues
I’ve only been to Mexico once. I grew up here. My moved here even before I was born. It was
hard though because she still doesn’t speak English so she’s had a hard time. If she has to got to
the doctors or dentist, I have to go with her to talk to them. She’s had a hard time…people really
look down on her like’s she’s stupid. It’s not easy learning a different language. That’s why I’m
glad my boy knows both.
Racism is everywhere though. You just have to take the good with the bad. People don’t trust me
a lot of times because I’m Latina. They think I’m going ot be lazy. They think I live with 20
people in my apartment. They think I don’t have any money. But people are stupid. That’s how I
get through it. There’s good stuff too though. If Hispanic people come in the store, they know I’ll
give them a discount. And I know I can go in their store and get a discount. I got free dry
cleaning this morning next door. It’s stuff like that. We stick together. But it’s gonna be better for my boy. Girl, he’s gonna be able to speak Spanish and he looks white.
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White Female
When I was younger I used to vacation in Maryland with my aunt and uncle and they were kind
of Nuevo-riche, lived in a cul-de-sac. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Gaithersburg, or that
area…it’s very gentrified out there. Every time I would go down there I would always want to go
to Baltimore, because it’s summer so they would have the concerts by the bay- it was beautiful!
My uncle would be like, “Oh, we don’t really want to go out there,” but we would anyway
because the rest of the family wanted to go. And, Baltimore is kind of like the heroin capital of
the world. There are a lot of homeless people out there; there are a lot of black homeless people
out there. They’d make my uncle and aunt incredibly nervous. I remember one time we were
kind of walking around, it was starting to get dark, and this black guy who was clearly, you
know, addicted to drugs, followed us around for a few blocks, asking for money, and kind of
being menacing. And my cousin Gordon was only about two or three years old at the time, and
he was deeply upset by this. For months afterward, you know, what I heard was, even if there
was a black person in the grocery store, he would become really physically upset, because he so
rarely encountered black people in his neighbourhood. And his first experience was so
frightening. And that was sad that not only that, but his mother and father never really explained
anything about that to him. It didn’t bother them too much that he was literally afraid of black
people now. And that he’s so young, and this is going to form impressions for the rest of his life.
Maybe not even that he remembers or is aware of. I guess it is, it’s a very stark thing. And a lot
of people don’t want to think about the fact that it is a very visible thing. Don’t want to think
about the fact that kids recognize it without being told, very visually. !
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Post-Racial Society?
The Last Voice: I think striving to move beyond race…how do I put this…is treating race as a
negative thing. I feel that people can celebrate race, and celebrate other people’s races. There’s
nothing wrong with difference, and being different from other people…but when we are saying
we don’t see colour, or we don’t see race, what are we really saying? We’re asking people of
colour to erase a large part of who they and to what end…to make who comfortable? I’ve always
thought of America as a place where you could be yourself, I’ve always thought that was the
American dream.