I'm so White it's my last name?

Race.

It's swirling around in many of our heads.

I keep wondering why I even need to write about it, when others seem imminently more qualified.

I know in many ways I could live my my life and not even be negatively effected by it, much less affected.

We (my husband and I) joke about being white all the time. I should clarify it really is our last name. Stinking white people. Dirty white boys and the abovementioned title are some of the things flung around in jest in our house.

I cringe inside a bit everytime I write my name on the board. Somehow it brings up those stupid fears of being racist in me. Why? I guess because I don't like think I am so white it's my last name.

I have a mean Spanish accent. Go ahead throw Estrella, Espirion, or Xochitl at me, I can say it. I rock at calling roll. I can cook and eat chile hot enough to burn you twice. I still listen to my favorite Latin music all the time. One kid last week made me smile after roll call when he said, maybe you aren't so white after all Miss.

I see the disparity in the class rooms. The difference between the white kid with the smart mouth or the Mexican kid who doesn't feel like he's expected to achieve. How the classes that aren't in the college prep track are predominately one color. I asked the kids in Environmental Science last week if they knew how much money an Environmental Scientists earns, they told me: We aren't going to college Miss, we are just in here because we aren't smart enough. I suggested maybe college wasn't out of their reach.

Even though I realize all that, I don't know what it's like to be a Mexican American. I realize I have an easier pass than many, because I don't have to fight to get my foot in the door. No one looks at me and assumes I am up to trouble, or there to apply for housekeeping.

Tonight I sat in a room full of parents for my son's preschool. I was in the minority by far. Everything was dual language because they want all parents to be able to participate. (By the way New Mexico is a dual langage state, we have two OFFICIAL languages.) I have to admit I wondered if the other parents wondered why I was there. Why had I enrolled my kid at headstart? Did I lie to get in?

The reality is that I was looking for a real preschool to take Z too since he is 5 but missed the cutoff for kindergarten. The reality is I couldn't afford daycare much less the very exclusive and expensive preschool in town. Since we had taken a huge pay cut moving here I thought I would try qualifying for headstart. We were over because of last years income, but they have to take a few over-income kids, so we got lucky.

I felt a stab of guilt, maybe we are taking a slot of someone who deserves it more. I felt guilty because if I had asked Great Grandma or Grandma, they probably would have helped pay for a school. My husband asked me why didn't our kid didn't deserve to get in?

A few people turned their noses up and wondered why I wanted him to go there. Didn't I know they only take poor kids. (i.e. Mexican kids?)

My hope is that Z not only improves his readiness for school but also learns to appreciate the other cultures here. I hope he remembers being the minority and what that feels like if you get excluded because you are white, brown or purple. I still remember the sting Gringa had in grade school, when I learned someone would make assumptions about me without knowing me. Not knowing I didn't count myself better and my best friend and I enjoyed hot tortillas off the griddle, frijoles and chicle. I hope he learns being a Gringo isn't so bad and neither is being a Messican. I hope he learns that privilege shouldn't be related to the color of your skin, the sound of your last name or the size of your bank account.