MINORITY REPORT

As a white, middle/upper-middle class American man, there have been very few times in my life when I have not been in the majority or in a position of "power." I first started to realize this when a college professor of mine did a little experiment in class one day to help us understand what it felt like to be the minority. She asked everyone who wasn't white, conservative, heterosexual or male to go stand on one side of the room. Moments later, I realized I was the only one left at their desk. Although it was an uncomfortable feeling, it only lasted until the class ended.

Today I live in Guatemala, where I am, for the first time in my life, truly "the minority." It's a strange feeling to walk through a village and be the only white person, the only one in Western clothing, the only one with a high school degree. The reaction has been mixed. In some places, Guatemaltecos are used to foreigners and think nothing of my presence, but at other times, in smaller, more remote areas of the country, the people have stared at me like I'm an alien. I guess it's possible that they've never seen a white man before, at least not one in person.

Despite being the minority wherever I go, I don't believe I'll ever truly know what it means to be a minority. I say this because most minorities in the world share one thing in common: they have little to no power. As an educated American man, however, that's not true for me. Even though I am often frustrated by my inability to fluently speak or understand the Spanish language, I am STILL in a position of power here:
- People often assume I'm a doctor even though I don't know the first thing about medicine.
- I have more money than just about everyone I've ever met here.
- I'm assumed to be a "boss" because of my color, education, and position.
Contrast my experience here in Guatemala to a Mexican immigrant (legal or illegal) in the United States. He or she has little to no power, they are rarely assumed to be the boss, and they are publicly disrespected if they can't speak English fluently (whereas I'm patted on the back for being able to speak Spanish at the level of a 1st grader). I have felt great embarrassment on several occasions when one of our volunteer teams from the States come into this country like they "own the place." This doesn't happen very often, but I can't imagine a Latin immigrant coming into the U.S. and acting like that! Only the "powerful" can act in such a way.

I think it's important to experience being "the minority" at some point in our lives, if only in some small way. This experience has helped me understand the great responsibilty I have as an American citizen in a foreign country, and also to be more aware of the minority and those without power in my midst. In many ways I think the best measure of a society/person is how it/we treat the powerless minorities in our midst.

GRINGO?
I have been called a "gringo" many times in Guatemala. I don't take offense to it. It's nothing like the "n..." word for African-Americans. It's basically come to mean any person from the United States (or an European who is mistaken for an American.)
I always was told that the term developed during the Mexican-American War, when the Mexicans would cry out to the uniformed American soldiers, "green go," meaning "leave our country." But it turns out that the Americans actually wore blue uniforms during this war, so it probably came from the Spanish word, "griego," which means "greek." Or I could be wrong. It's all greek to me.

Peace,
Jay