You dont understand, my dad said. They stop you. Who? What are you talking about? my mom asked. Thats why I was being cautious. Who stops you? The police. If youre white, or maybe Oriental, they let you drive however you want. But if youre not, they stop you. Who told you that? The guys at the diner. Thats what they say. If youre black or if youre brown, they automatically think youve done something wrong. Rafa, thats ridiculous. Weve lived here for fifteen years. Were citizens. The police dont know that by looking at us. They see a brown face through the windshield and boom! Sirens! My mom shook her head. Thats what that was about? I didnt want to give them reason to stop me. You were driving like a blind man, Rafa. That will give them reason to stop you. Everybody else just has to obey the law. We have to obey it twice as well. But that doesnt mean you have to go twice as slow as everybody else! The light turned green and my dad brought the car out of first. We cruised under the overpass, a shadow draping over the car like a blanket. Next time, just try to blend in with everyone else and youll be fine, my mom offered. The way of the world, my dad said. What? my mom asked as we emerged back into the sunlight. Just trying to blend in. Thats the way of the world. Well, thats the way of America, at least, my mom said.
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About Cristina Henriquez, The Book of Unknown Americans
Cristina Henriquez, The Book of Unknown Americans.