Tuesday, June 24, 2008

There’s gotta be something about my appearance that just begs for me to be spoken to in Spanish. When I go pick up my little brother (third grade) and niece (5th grade) from the after-school program they are part of, the staff always talks to me in Spanish. This is after countless times that I have spoken to them in English. Things hit a new low when I approached one of the after-school staff at the school where I’ve been employed for almost nine years. I stood next to him because I was going to let him know that one of his coworkers left their walkie talkie in the faculty restroom, but before I said a word, he turned to me and said, “Hola, a quien vino a recoger?“

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