BY ELENA KUENNING VIDAS
I’ve been thinking about “Jane the Virgin” a lot lately. In the midst of all this ugliness about “us” and “them” in current events, I’ve been thinking about a TV show. Dylan, my husband, and I marathoned this starting last month and it is hands-down the most fun I’ve ever had watching a television show. But beyond being entertained, I found myself constantly struck that over half the regular cast is brown like me. And each time I realized it, I also felt a sense of relief, like I had been unconsciously holding my breath and then remembered to breathe.
Because at the same time that I was elated that a prime time television cast looks like me, I was acutely aware of how very badly I want to be able to release my little guy into a world where that thought will never occur to him. Because I’m in my 30s. And I was absolutely giddy to see people who look like me on television in something other than the “token” role. And that’s entirely too long to have waited.
It’s especially not OK because right now, there are a lot of people who suddenly have the guts to say and do horrible things to people who are seen as “other.” Blatant racism and profiling isn’t something new to me. There was the time in an airport where a random security check at the gate—past the TSA security screen—was announced while looking pointedly at me (ever had an entire gate’s worth of people turn to stare at you? —yeah, that’s not mortifying at all), and the squad cars who used to slow down and stare me down on my walk home from high school. Neither is accidental racist stupidity, like the astounding number of people who asked me if I spoke English when I worked in retail before asking me a question (no, jerkface, I was hired specifically for my inability to communicate with the vast majority of our customers). It’s hard enough when no one in charge looks like you, and when you know that a decent percentage of people meeting you for the first time in an academic or professional environment assume that you are there at least in part to fill a quota, and not on your own merit. Big or little—things like this happen every day, and when they do, it’s really easy to feel like you’re going through life holding your breath and defending your right to be seen as a normal part of society. It’s tiring, and it’s often pretty lonely.
But this is scarier. I know they’ve always been there, but now that they feel like they have mainstream political support, these riled up bullies are rearing their heads and are more aggressive than I’ve ever seen about how awful “those people” are—whether they are lazy and freeloading, drug addled rapists invading our borders, weakening America and ruining the economy by stealing jobs, or criminals who had it coming because of their skin color, or are inherently terrorists because of their religion. It’s heartening to see so many people actively calling them out, but it’s terrifying to see people who are considered “leaders” continue to spout this stuff out like it’s no big deal and has no real-life consequences.
Because if I’m not keen on signing up my little brown son to see himself reflected in pop culture as “normal” for the first time when he’s in his 30s, I’m sure as heck not excited about sending him out into a world where people are taunted to declare their immigration status at a football game, are screamed at for being brown on a train, or where people stand outside a mosque with assault rifles in order to intimidate worshippers. People can only get away with this when there is silence.
Stay loud.
STAY LOUD!!
