As American As the Fourth of July

I’m as American as hot dogs, monograms and apple pie and because of this, I have had a very difficult time writing lately. I even told my closest blogging friends that I was thinking of not writing anymore because I could not get inspired. My husband pushed me to attend the Mom 2.0 conference in April and I’m thankful he did because if it wasn’t for the inspiring people that I was able to toast champagne with, I would have completely stopped doing something that I have enjoyed all my life. Writing.

I am a strong believer that everything in life happens for a reason and I know I was meant to walk into Luvvie’s keynote at Mom 2.0 and while she was charismatic and hysterical, all I heard was, “don’t be afraid to talk about the real things going on.” So here it goes…

Last year, for the first time in my life, I experienced racism. Perhaps I have experienced it before but this time it was so obvious and direct that I could not deny it. What’s worse is that I experienced alongside my family at no other than the happiest place on earth.  It happened multiple times and the only explanation that I can give is that all these morons suddenly felt empowered and okay to come out the closet.  The first time that my husband and I had to step back and analyze what had happened to us, we were asked by a cast member to get a more “American” last name.  So, Gutierrez is not an American last name? What is an American last name?  Perhaps it should have been Smith. Would that have been more American even though it isn’t a Native American last name?  Then at another time, when my 3 year old son bumped into an elderly woman, she said, “This is why they have to hike up the prices, so that ‘those’ people stop getting in.”.  Hey lady, “those people” can go to college and sit in the front of the bus now.  “Those people” can also be the doctor or organ donor that save your life one day.  Another woman called us, “F-ing Mexicans.”  Why?  Because my husband left the Toy Story Mania line to take my recently potty trained son to the bathroom and then came back on line.  F-ing Mexicans,  always taking their kids to pee!  WTF.  And while I carry no Mexican background, I knew what she meant because we, my people were all Mexican in her eyes.  I could not believe what was happening and the only way I could explain their behavior was that these closet racists finally felt backed up.  They finally felt justified and safe to speak out.  Even if their safety meant leaving other human beings feeling vulnerable.

So, while some may claim that they want to make America great again, remember that I am as American as apple pie and in order to make our country great again, you must include me and “my people” in your plan because as much as you don’t like it, we are your people.  We are America.




Here are some more great 4th of July goodness for you to enjoy!

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