Why do so many people care about color or race? It doesn't matter what color or race we are, we all bleed if we are cut and our blood is the same color. We all hurt the same if we are struck down. Our hearts beat in the same rythm as everyone elses. Just once I wish we would all look at each other the way I feel that God looks at us. I feel that he looks at each and every one of us with loving eyes. He looks inside of our souls, not in the material outside form of our bodies. God forgive our prejudices!!*

What does God think of Minorities?

Being hispanic I was treated differently all my life. I was always looked down by white people, and that hurt, because my mother brought us up believing that we were all the same. I remember the first time I had to fill in forms for my mother and having to fill in the "Race" column. I asked my mom what that meant, because I was told that I had to write Mexican-American on there, but I remembered that on that space on my Birth certificate it said "White".
My mother told me that because I was born in Minnesota and in the 50's, we had to be white, Indian or black and we were neither black or Indian, so we had to be white. For years, not understanding what the "White" stood for, I would write that my race was white. Then when I was in the 8th grade My History teacher, who was a great teacher and loved by all his students, finally asked me about why my birth certificate said white on it. I told him what my mother had told me, and he put his arm around me and told me, that I actually should be writing Mexican-American.
I was so upset at him at the time.I did not understand what he meant. He finally explained to me that I was born in America, but was from Mexican descent, because my ancestors were from Mexico. I was raised in a small town in Texas where the majority of the population was hispanics. Therefore we really never worried about our race. I had never encountered verbal prejudism until I was 19 years old. We had made a trip to California and on our way back we stopped at a gas station to fill up. I was in the bathroom when all of a sudden I heard someone say," Get out of the bathroom, Wetback, we do not allow wetbacks in our bathrooms." I was so scarred and I tried to keep the door to the stall closed, as the man pushed on it. I told him I would be out soon. He finally left and said he would be back if I didn't get out in 5 minutes. I got out and ran outside to find our car. By this time our car was across the highway. My family had been told to leave the premises also, but they neglected to inform me about it.
We had not seen the big sign that said,"Whites Only."
I had nightmares for a very long time about this incident. It would be a long time before we would travel again from the safety of our home. As a matter of fact It took a long time before I forgot this incident.
I didn't have another encounter like that until later in life when I moved to Washington. I had stopped at the Welfare place to drop off some papers for my mother, who was receiving Foodstamps at the time. I had my 4 year old daughter with me, not anticipating what was about to take place and how it would scar my child for life.
Standing at the counter speaking very loud was a caucasian man all tatooed, from his hands all the way to his neck. He turned around and saw my baby and I walk in. He got furious and started to scream at the counter people,he said," Oh, here come some F...........Wetbacks, I bet you will give them my money." My little girl got so scarred she started to cry and asked,"Mommy why is he calling us Wetbacks." I grabbed my little girl and ran to the restroom, where he followed us, screaming the most horrible and very racist things I had ever heard.
Nobody would even come out to help us, as he kept pushing at the door to get in. I finally screamed somebody help us, please, my baby is scarred," Finally a heavy set man in a brown suit came out and told him to leave us alone or he would call the police. The man finally left and I picked up my baby and ran to my car. I was so scarred that he would be waiting for us outside.
I remember praying so hard, wishing for God to help us. Wondering why this was happening to my baby and I. I felt like God had abandoned us.
Later when I got home I realized that it was God who had sent the man to help us, because when I called the Welfare department to thank the man for saving us, I was told that nobody resembling the man I was describing worked there. The lady apologized for no one coming to help us, she said that they were all scarred of that man, and that they would just lock the entrance doors to the offices behind the counters so that he couldn't go in there. She said that he would do that atleast once a month. I kept telling her that a man who told me worked there had come to our rescue. She just said that I could've been so scarred and imagined it, because they could hear him screaming at us, but nobody came out to help us.
A few years after that horrible scene, I stated college to get my AA degree. I was walking to my next class when 2 young college boys who were walking behind me said, "Look at the wetback, what makes her think she belongs here." I tuened around and faced them and said," You two are just stupid ignorant idiots," They asked me what I had said, and I responded,"That's for me to know and for you to find out." They looked at each other because I spoke in English. Well, they followed me for weeks asking me what I had said to them. They wanted me to teach them Spanish. I made them suffer a few days more, then I finally told them what I had said. They looked at me and said, "really that was it." I told them that I didn't like to insult people, especially if they couldn't even understand the insult. They were always nice to me after that. If some one would say something to them in Spanish they would memorize it and come and ask me what that meant. I am now a certificated Para-Professional and work with hispanic kids, whom I share my experiences with.
I want them to not let anything stand in their way. There is nothing wrong with being proud of who you are and where you came from.
I know that God loves us all, he doesn't care what religion, what race or what we do for a living. He loves us just the way we are. All he wants in return is for us to love him and to love one another as he loves us. God has helped me many times when I have been in the worst of times. Not only as a child but as an adult as well.
Even my own children experienced racism when they were in school. They would speak in spanish to other kids who had trouble speaking English and they would get called "wetbacks" by white kids. They felt so bad by the name calling that they were embarassed to speak in spanish. I would try to reasure them that we were smarter and luckier, because we could speak two languages. They lost their ability to speak in spanish though. They got tired of the discrimination so they decided to follow their friends the English speakers. They never discriminated against others though. They would still hang around with all their friends they would just speak in English all the time.
I am so lucky, blessed and proud to say that my children do not discriminate against anyone. They might not like everyone, but it is not because of their race, but because of people being people.
I have learned through all my experiences in life that not everyone is going to like me or want to be my friend, but I have the Greatest Love of All, I have the unconditonal love of God.

MINORITIES ARE NOT ONLY HISPANIC PEOPLE:

There are so many people considered minorities. Even people that are white, because they are poor. There are certain standards that I have heard about from people saying what is considered a minority. A few days ago I came across an old professor of mine. He was a guest speaker at one of our functions where I work. I told him that I was doing reasearch for a page I was writing, on my husband's spiritual website. he was willing to help. He confessed that for a long time he was very racist, because of his upbringing. He said he "hated Jews, Blacks and Mexicans, was how he said it." He said that he felt very confused about his hatred. He said to him anyone that was not "pure white blood" was a minority. He said that he felt the white people that were poor were trash because they were not pure blood. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, because he helped me alot in college. He said that he had met a wonderful catholic woman, that had changed his life. He had been married to her 5 years before coming to teach in Walla Walla. I guess I can honestly say that to God there are no minorities. He loves us all, but to some human beings that are still fighting with their upbringing there will always be people that are less of anything to them. The way people dress, talk, and even the way they pray is considered a means for racism. I wish all this racism would end and we could all get along, and learn from another. It is so hard to live in a world where you will be judged by others because of your sex, race, beliefs, or simply because of the way you dress.
I have always loved people, I see beyond color,race,blemishes,weight, clothes. I just like to see people for who I see inside, not by material things. The heart is what is important. God gave us free will, so we can make our own choices on how we feel about others. We can not blame anyone else for who we are, we can only blame ourselves.

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Some of our kids at school like to dress like this singer and therefore are considered hoodlums, just because of the way they dress. I feel that kids should be allowed to find themselves, as long as they are not hurting themselves or anyone else. There are worse things that kids could get into, that are more dangerous than just the way they are dressed. The teachers think that because our kids are hispanic and dress in this manner, that they are in gangs.Kids go through phases, just like we all have. The clothes they wear do not make the person. It's what's in their hearts that matters. If we teach them to make right choices then they will stay out of trouble, but if all we do is nag them and criticize them, then there is no one to turn to. Let's show our children the ways of God. Each generation has their own trends and I guess it doesn't come without its prejudices. If you are different then you must be bad!
I just wish we could all get along reguardless of what we look like, what we wear or how we speak. If God loves us all just the way we are, then why can't we love one another as he loves us?