They don't work because they're lazy and they depend on welfare." These are but a few of the ethnic stereotypes that have haunted me throughout much of my life as Puerto Rican-American. Growing up in an ethnically diverse but poor neighborhood in Chicago, I actually never felt "different" until I moved to an almost all white school in Massachusetts. There, I noticed that people would mutter under their breaths comments about racial or ethnic groups other than their own. Although the students would never have openly admitted to being prejudiced, and although they would probably deny that their comments were harmful, I felt singled out, uncomfortable, and threatened in such homogeneous territory. Suddenly I realized that my skin and hair was actually noticeably different from my classmates. They noticed it too, and started to ask me what my background was. To avoid social discomfort I lied to them and told them I was "just American." By passing myself off as white, I avoided confrontation.

             Since then, however, I have learned that my lies only serve to perpetuate prejudice in America. By being ashamed or afraid to talk about their roots, people of color allow the dominant culture to continue the myth of racial superiority. Therefore, through some soul-searching I have been able to regain pride in my ethnicity. I am different and proud of it: my cultural background is unique, exciting, and interesting. Now, rather than pretend I am white, I declare that my heritage is Puerto Rican and accept the fact that not everyone will be pleased with that. I still sense the snickering and other forms of subtle prejudice when I tell people who I am.

             Now that I look back on my upbringing I can see how prejudice and racism has not always been so subtle; people of color have continually been beaten down so that poverty is a reality for many of them. The neighborhood I grew up in was ethnically diverse. I didn't feel different.