When Discrimination Breeds More Discrimination: A Latina's Story

Introduction: Power and Privilege as a Two-Way Street

Power and privilege operate as a two-way street: they can run in either direction depending on the circumstances and context. For example, a female Latina could occupy a position of privilege and power in one environment and a position of discrimination and prejudice in another. This is something I know from personal experience, having found myself in both types of situations. What is particularly interesting about being a Latina in America is that while most white people are not going to recognize you as one of their own, they are also unlikely to group you with other ethnic minorities such as Black or Asian Americans. This in-between status creates its own distinct vulnerabilities.

To illustrate this complexity, racial discrimination manifests in varied and sometimes contradictory ways across different social settings. Zamudio and Lichter (2008) found that hotel managers tend to prefer hiring Latinas over Black applicants for reasons rooted in prejudice. On the other hand, Barajas and Ronnkvist (2007) showed that in public schools, racialized spaces can emerge between Latina and white populations, generating tension and hostility as each group attempts to assert itself in the face of perceived opposition. McCabe (2009) noted that on college campuses it is not uncommon for Latinas to experience microaggressions from white peers who do not even realize they are sending such signals — and, at the same time, Latinas can project microaggressions toward others as well. Thus, the road of power and privilege truly runs in both directions. In this paper, I describe one instance in which I, as a female Latina, experienced discrimination and one instance in which I was the perpetrator of discrimination.

Experiencing Discrimination: Being Racially Profiled

My most vivid experience of discrimination occurred when I was in my early teens. I was with a group of girlfriends at a clothing store when a woman suddenly began shouting that her wallet had been stolen. She was a middle-aged white woman, and she quickly drew everyone's attention. My friends and I were already heading toward the door when she started yelling, and we saw no reason to stay. Without warning, a security guard appeared and told us we could not leave. All at once we were suspects in a crime. I could not help but feel that this was entirely because we were the only visibly ethnic people in the store. All suspicion fell on us because we were young, visibly different from the other shoppers, and, as an ethnic minority, apparently the obvious culprits. Everyone looked at us as though our guilt were self-evident, and we were deeply offended by the implied accusation.

It was humiliating to stand there while the security guard gathered the facts of the case. The other women in the store shot us accusing glances. We were all Latinas, and none of us had been anywhere near the woman who reported the missing wallet. A clerk came over and asked us to empty our purses. That demand was the most offensive thing of all, and we all refused. We did not believe anyone had the right to search our belongings without our permission, and we resented being made to feel like thieves. I felt strongly that we were being suspected because of our ethnicity, though our age may also have been a factor. Either way, it was offensive, and I felt I was being discriminated against in a deeply hurtful way.

The Escalation of Suspicion

When we refused to hand over our purses, the situation grew even more tense and hostile. The security guard threatened to call the police and assured us that theft would land us all in jail — even though, as juveniles, that would not have been the outcome. He then began asking whether we used or sold drugs and suggested that our boyfriends might be drug dealers and that we were on our way to meet them. The situation continued to escalate as others began to suggest that we might not even be legal citizens. This caught the guard's attention, and he began pressuring us to prove our citizenship. In a matter of minutes, we had been accused of practically every crime imaginable.

Then, as suddenly as it had all begun, it ended. The same middle-aged white woman who had raised the alarm laughed and cried out, "Oh, here it is!" — and pulled her wallet from another bag in her cart. Everyone seemed delighted and immediately turned their attention away from us, as if nothing had happened. We were all stunned and did not know what to say or do. To this day I have never returned to that store. The place feels to me like a racialized space, and I now gravitate toward environments where I feel safe. Flores and Garcia (2009) have shown that many Latinas feel this same way in predominantly white spaces, retreating to communities where they are less likely to face hostility.

Conclusion: Breaking the Cycle Through Honor

Power and privilege are appreciated when possessed and sorely missed when absent. It is understandable that people would want them. Today the word "privilege" carries a negative connotation, but privilege is, at its core, an honor. For example, I was privileged to work at that café and to serve others. It was an honor to be trusted to do the job well. I dishonored myself when I violated that privilege and treated customers with disrespect and discrimination. I was taught not to envy others, and I believe that much of the contemporary discourse around privilege edges toward cultivating envy for what others have. Envy is a vice, and privilege is not inherently bad. What is harmful is when those who hold privilege abuse it.

That is where the real problem lies. When we honor our roles in life and treat others with respect, we demonstrate our own honorableness. It is when we lose sight of that honor that discrimination and prejudice take root. I have been on both sides of that road and know this from lived experience. The best way forward is to cultivate a more honorable mindset at all times — to resist the pull of projection and resentment and to see each person as an individual rather than as a representative of past harm.

References

Barajas, H. L., & Ronnkvist, A. (2007). Racialized space: Framing Latino and Latina experience in public schools. Teachers College Record, 109(6), 1517–1538.

Flores, J., & Garcia, S. (2009). Latina testimonios: A reflexive, critical analysis of a 'Latina space' at a predominantly White campus. Race Ethnicity and Education, 12(2), 155–172.

McCabe, J. (2009). Racial and gender microaggressions on a predominantly-White campus: Experiences of Black, Latina/o and White undergraduates. Race, Gender & Class, 133–151.

Warren, C. S. (2014). Body area dissatisfaction in White, Black and Latina female college students in the USA: An examination of racially salient appearance areas and ethnic identity. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 37(3), 537–556.

Zamudio, M. M., & Lichter, M. I. (2008). Bad attitudes and good soldiers: Soft skills as a code for tractability in the hiring of immigrant Latina/os over native Blacks in the hotel industry. Social Problems, 55(4), 573–589.