Diversity education has trained me to be sensitive with words that might connote prejudice. So naturally, I felt mildly offended to observe that people here use potentially incorrect terms (like "oriental" and "picnic") and confront stereotypes (like asking if my parents are communist). My conversation class's first topic of study was racial stereotypes- awkward. Our discussions progressed into LGBT rights and feminism- even more awkward. People-first language isn't common here. My professor talked about "los autistas" in the special education classroom down the hall.
But words here don't contain the offensive meanings that America trained me to look for. My host mom asking if my parents are communist doesn't imply the reawakening of the red scare, but mere curiosity about another culture. My professor didn't term special education students "los autistas" to reduce their humanity, but to concisely explain why some of these children wandered into our classroom.
I originally assumed that Spain lagged in diversity acceptance because of their blunt approach toward minority terms. But actually, people appear more distant from prejudice with the disappearance of racist innuendos in terms like "oriental." Reducing racism by normalizing politically incorrect words reminds me of how Spain reduces alcohol dangers by normalizing wine consumption.
My host mom told me that discrimination left the Spanish culture long before Americans banished racial segregation (and her brother added that I can ride whichever bus I want). Soon after, she (69 years old and two generations senior to me) complemented my Love Knows No Bounds LGBT support T-shirt and discussed how a woman can marry her work instead of a husband.
Regardless, I confront rude people (like a shopkeeper in Benidorm who asked me to leave as soon as I entered her store. Coincidentally, I was both the only prohibited customer and the only non-white in the store). But these people are very few and far apart in comparison those in the US.
I admire how foreign discrimination is to a lot of people here. I admire how people approach a foreigner likes with curiosity instead of disdain. I admire how native Spaniards reciprocate my curiosity about their culture with accepting interest in my background. Even though I admire the welcome here, I am still a guest in this culture. I feel anomalous when nobody understands my frustration with inaccurate Asian American stereotypes (not every Asian loves rice or speaks poor English- example: me). I often crave a pho or a Hana World outing and receive very little commiseration. Come 10 pm, and I feel lonely and swallowed by the tide of European fiestas even though people respect that I'm introverted. Spain is beautiful, progressive, and accepting, but my Austin-Georgetown is my home.
I dream about my first taste of dumplings in too long.
But until then, I will relish ordering leche manchadas and enlightening the waiters that countless first-generation Americans like myself come from more than one culture.
But words here don't contain the offensive meanings that America trained me to look for. My host mom asking if my parents are communist doesn't imply the reawakening of the red scare, but mere curiosity about another culture. My professor didn't term special education students "los autistas" to reduce their humanity, but to concisely explain why some of these children wandered into our classroom.
I originally assumed that Spain lagged in diversity acceptance because of their blunt approach toward minority terms. But actually, people appear more distant from prejudice with the disappearance of racist innuendos in terms like "oriental." Reducing racism by normalizing politically incorrect words reminds me of how Spain reduces alcohol dangers by normalizing wine consumption.
My host mom told me that discrimination left the Spanish culture long before Americans banished racial segregation (and her brother added that I can ride whichever bus I want). Soon after, she (69 years old and two generations senior to me) complemented my Love Knows No Bounds LGBT support T-shirt and discussed how a woman can marry her work instead of a husband.
Regardless, I confront rude people (like a shopkeeper in Benidorm who asked me to leave as soon as I entered her store. Coincidentally, I was both the only prohibited customer and the only non-white in the store). But these people are very few and far apart in comparison those in the US.
I admire how foreign discrimination is to a lot of people here. I admire how people approach a foreigner likes with curiosity instead of disdain. I admire how native Spaniards reciprocate my curiosity about their culture with accepting interest in my background. Even though I admire the welcome here, I am still a guest in this culture. I feel anomalous when nobody understands my frustration with inaccurate Asian American stereotypes (not every Asian loves rice or speaks poor English- example: me). I often crave a pho or a Hana World outing and receive very little commiseration. Come 10 pm, and I feel lonely and swallowed by the tide of European fiestas even though people respect that I'm introverted. Spain is beautiful, progressive, and accepting, but my Austin-Georgetown is my home.
I dream about my first taste of dumplings in too long.
But until then, I will relish ordering leche manchadas and enlightening the waiters that countless first-generation Americans like myself come from more than one culture.