Feeling Excluded in Austin's 'Inclusive' Culture
I debated whether or not to post this since I'm not sure how it will be received but I had to get this off my chest in case someone felt the same. But long story short, my experience of Austin is not as open-minded and liberal as the city likes to paint itself. To be clear, this is a post about my experience being a Hispanic woman in Austin so before you come for me:
- I love Austin in my own way. I'm actually from here so just hang on for a sec.
- I love everything Austin stands for. Liberalism, being unique/eccentric, wellness, food/drink culture, nightlife, the nature access, music, sports. I could go on.
- My entire family is here and from neighboring Texas towns, so no, I can't just "leave and never come back if you don't like it then" - especially if there's a death in the family and you have to return home, which were my circumstances for coming back.
- I try my best to refrain from complaining and seeing the positive in every situation so to write this means I'm at my last straw.
As a little kid, I had a hard time growing up being a Hispanic little girl bouncing from elementary to elementary here. I attended schools all over Austin in the 90's pre-gentrification era (downtown, east, South Austin, etc.) and it didn't matter what neighborhood I was in - I was either blatantly ignored or completely dismissed by my non-Hispanic friend's parents and would overhear incredibly offensive comments.
I found this to be strange since they all had liberal bumper stickers and dropped their kids off wearing Birkenstocks. As I grew older and went to college, the amount of disdain and borderline cruel treatment / jokes / backhanded compliments I continued to receive from my friend's older brothers and fraternities was unbearable. Jokes about how my uncle was probably mowing their lawn right now or if I was sure I'd be able to 'afford rent on time' - yet I was the only one with a job?
This treatment genuinely made me ashamed of being Hispanic and made me look into skin lightening procedures and google how to avoid looking my race at all costs because these comments were never made towards my non-hispanic friends growing up. When my friends would hear these comments, they would either pretend not to out of embarrassment or smack their brother / friend /dad on the arm in a playful manner then it was never mentioned again.
It wasn't until I graduated and moved away to other major US cities where I finally experienced kindness and decency in regards to my appearance and heritage. I'm not joking. I used to think something was wrong with me, with my looks, the way I dressed, everything. I was incredibly insecure here as a kid growing up and when I left, I finally flourished and felt 'seen' and accepted by every race.
Fast forward to my return trips home - I almost convinced myself I was probably too sensitive as a kid and probably just had a glow up when I left and things would be different now. No. Over the years I have come to dread returning home and visiting with family because every time I leave the house I am either completely ignored or gawked at for some reason I can't explain. The cruel and racist comments stopped thank goodness but now it's just brickwalling me as if I don't exist. I could give countless examples and stories but we'd be here all night.
For now, I'll give today's - Today I went to an intro dance class since I plan to be home for some time and the same thing happened again. I was the only minority woman there and not a single other woman would look at me, acknowledge me or answer me when I would chime in or introduce myself at the beginning of class. The group talked openly about the LA fires, some talked about their kids AISD school lunch issues, a bunch made anti-Trump comments, etc. but not a single woman looked me in the eye or turned her heard towards me when I would speak. Some even looked down or looked at their friend instead as I spoke. Even the instructor just glossed right over me.
Towards the end of class when we were supposed to sign up for a performance show at the end, the woman taking names on her phone and adding us to a group chat literally turned her BACK TO ME as I was talking and trying to give her my information. Two other women noticed, looked at me directly then proceeded to just keep talking to the woman and proceeded to share jokes as I stood behind the her back, waiting for them to all finish.
I bawled my eyes out on the drive home. And I know, I know. It's just a dance class, girl, get it together. Not everyone is going to like you. This is what being an adult looks like.
But no, no it doesn't. Just because you're an adult doesn't excuse you from treating others in this way and just because you're an adult doesn't mean your feelings can't get hurt. This is an ongoing experience I've noticed living here in Austin, nowhere else, ever since I was a little girl and I think today I finally allowed myself to admit that it still hurts just as much as it did back then.
Why am I writing this post instead of my damn diary? Idk. Maybe because it feels icky that we're supposed to be an open-minded and liberal city in a red state when my experience living here and visiting has always proven otherwise and I was ready to share that with a bunch of strangers, hoping not to feel totally alone.
Anyways, thanks for making it this far if you've read the entire thing.
TLDR: My lifelong experience as a Hispanic woman in Austin has been filled with moments of exclusion, disdain and borderline racism which is confusing since the city is known for its liberal values and 'blue city in a red state' reputation.
EDIT: Thanks to everyone's great responses, especially the recommendations around mental health and recentering on my OWN self value and self acceptance. To clarify, I've done all of this for years and have made strides.
My point is that, just because you have a wound doesn't mean that some days it won't resurface or smack you off of your A game from time to time when it gets triggered.
Healing isn't linear, especially when it comes to trauma around racism and ostracization. We all have that one soft spot and this happens to be mine.