White privilege while travelling: my experience as a Latino woman

As most of you know, I am Mexican. I’ve never denied it. My parents are Mexicans and so are my grandparents. I do have some Spanish blood running in the family, and rumour has it that it’s mixed with some sort of Arab heritage and even some Jew ancestry. Anyways, although I have an interesting mixture of races and nationalities in my DNA, the point is that I am Mexican and I identify myself as Latina, both at home and abroad.

It should be clear enough. I’m Dann, I’m a blogger and I was born in Guadalajara. Pretty easy, right? However, for some reason, people always seem to have an opinion regarding my nationality. Yeah, it’s as crazy as it sounds. Throughout my travels, I’ve found many individuals who think they have a say on which country I belong to. On one side, there are the people who think I couldn’t be more Mexican even if I came with a moustache and a giant sombrero.

Apparently, being Mexican is only a matter of looks for some blokes out there. “You’ve got dark hair and dark eyes, of course you’re Mexican”, a friend told me once. Yeah, because that’s all it takes:

However, it also works the other way around. On the other side, a lot of foreign people have also thought that, apparently, I’m not Mexican enough.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve introduced my self as a Mexican woman and I’ve gotten a “Surely you’re not” as a reply. One time, I had to spend several minutes convincing Conor’s uncle that I really came from a Latin American country. “But I’ve worked with Mexicans”, he insisted, “They’re not that tall”. Also, how can I forget the time a Portuguese roommate discovered my nationality and she said “But aren’t Mexicans supposed to be like… Really tanned?”

To be honest, I sort of get it. There are certain preconceptions of how people should look according to the country of birth, but people may or may not comply with them. Sure, when it’s sunny and I’m feeling brunette, I can look like this:

But if it’s been a long winter and my colourist did a great job I can also look like this:

To that you can add my crazy weird accent that communicates everything but my Mexicanity (watch my intro video if you don’t believe me) and the result is a bunch of very confused foreigners.

What does this have to do with white privilege while travelling, you might wonder. Well, after this small intro, the point is that my sort of nationality limbo has allowed me to experience both sides of the coin. And let me tell you, neither of them is pretty.

White Privilege While Travelling: The White Side

As I said before, I’ve never considered myself as Caucasian, but people make their own conclusions pretty easily. People have spoken to me in Italian in many occasions; also, just recently someone asked me if I was from Estonia, while other person assumed I was Australian. I am pretty sure that I don’t have any Italian, Estonian or Australian blood and I don’t really believe you can assume someone’s nationality just by looking at them, but I’m just sharing what I’ve lived and what has allowed me to experience white privilege while travelling. At least a fake one.

I didn’t actually realise I had this fake white privilege until I was talking with a Brazilian friend. She is a gorgeous girl: petite, tanned dark skin and long, straight black hair. Although her physique is common on my side of the world, I guess that in the north of Europe, those features are not so easy to find. Therefore, she was telling me how she had felt observed and discriminated so many times while socialising with other Europeans, even before actually speaking to them. And, since we were both Latinas, she asked me if I had ever felt the same way. The answer was no.

Even though I have felt discriminated in the past because of my nationality (more of that later), I had never felt a “rejection at first sight” during my travels. I’m talking about instantaneous discrimination, coming from people who don’t even know you and yet they decide to stereotype you and your race with just one look.

My friend told me that sometimes people would start speaking really slowly and using short words when she was around, despite the fact she speaks perfect English. Also, sometimes guys would hit on her just because she looked “exotic” or “foreign”. But that’s not it. I, personally, have seen how bouncers at European clubs denied entrance to some of my brown friends for no apparent reason and I even witnessed when a douche-bag actually cleaned his hand after exchanging a handshake with a non-white person (I wanted to vomit). Additionally, a Mexican friend told me that a complete stranger called her “savage” in a pub in the UK while she was minding her own business and enjoying a pint.

For one reason or another, I have never been a victim of any of these examples, but, to be honest, no body should. Maybe some aspects of my physical appearance have sheltered me from experiencing this sort of treatment, but the situation is clear: discrimination still exists and it’s more active than ever.

White Privilege While Travelling: The dark side (pun intended)

As I mentioned, I have never experienced discrimination at first sight abroad. Yes, being 5’9 and having a blond mother shielded me from some of the most basic forms of racism, but, unfortunately, that protection only lasts until I show my passport.

I’ve seen the white privilege working against me in many occasions, but the most popular one is at the airports. If you have never felt that knot on the bottom of your stomach every time you queue on an immigration helpdesk or experienced your hand shaking while showing your visa to a border agent, you are clearly on the other side of the white privilege.

The white privilege while travelling begins to manifest itself the moment you hop off the plane and you get separated: white people on one side, the rest on the other. I have forgotten how many times I have been there, on the second line, surrounded by Asians, Middle Easterners and other Latinos, mentally repeating all the reasons why I am not illegal, why I really don’t want to stay on your country against the law, why I just want to enjoy a holiday, or a gap year or a family visit. But thinking it is not enough, you actually have to convince the border agent, you have to make him believe everything you say is true, you even have to show proofs and a complete itinerary showing that you are nothing but a mere tourist. In those scenarios, your skin speaks louder than your words.

I have written in the past about the shock I had while I was detained at the British border a couple of years ago. Of how I was locked inside a room against my will, surrounded by other non-white people and how I was searched, interrogated and deprived of my freedom for almost five hours. I still remember how I lost my connecting flight, my hotel booking and around 200 pounds just because of my passport and I still think it is not fair. And I was lucky! Some of the other travellers that shared the room with me ended up being deported.

And it has not been the first time. I have been questioned about my motives to visit the United States in more than one occasion. While I was only 16 years old, an agent even decided to search through my luggage and check my Harry Potter DVD collection trying to find some incriminating piece that could potentially refuse my entrance to the country. Also, last time I went to Ireland to visit my ex boyfriend, the officer made me explain exactly how was I planning to maintain a long-distance relationship with my migratory conditions… All fun and games, you know.

I have been told that I am unlucky because I was born Mexican, I have been denied jobs because of my place of birth and a guy even refused to date me after he found out where I was from. There might be small issues, but together they form a bigger problem. One that many people refuse to see.

White privilege while travelling is real, so now what?

Don’t get me wrong, I do believe we all are different, but I prefer to base those differences in merits, not in chance. My friend Kelly described the white privilege pretty accurately and called it a “postcode lottery” and she is right. Just because someone was born in the “wrong” side of a border, now they have to enjoy fewer opportunities. And no, I am not using this space to rant about my nationality, I actually realise that I have been more fortunate than many other people in my own country. I come from a middle class family, I have a Bachelor’s Degree, I speak two languages, I had the chance to study in a first world country, I have travelled around the world… I am very lucky and I try to never forget that, but I think others should see how privilege escalates, it is real and it is not fair.

Some people will never know how it is to have to justify your transit at every security point, how it is to be afraid to speak your own language in public, how is it to be separated from your children and your family. And I honestly think that nobody should experience any of those scenarios ever, regardless of their passport or their heritage.

I don’t regret being Mexican at all, but I do think the balance is slightly shifted to the other side. My father has been living in the United States for half of his life and I’ve seen from the front row how he has fought against a system that does not want him there, despite the fact that he pays his taxes, follows the law and respects other people. On the other hand, I’ve also seen my mother, with her American citizenship and her white skin, experiencing all the benefits that come with that amazing combo. And neither of those extremes should exist. I dream about the day when we can all travel freely, without boundaries or prejudices or walls and where passports are just booklets to collect stamps and memories.

I don’t want to go all Martin Luther King on you, but with everything that is happening in the world at the moment, I felt I had to say something. I cannot speak for other people, but I can do it from my own experience and I can honestly say that white privilege while travelling is a thing and people are suffering its effects right now. A blog post won’t do much to change that, but, in the meantime, I’ll keep moving and travelling and writing about it so more people can know about it.

If you or anyone you know has experienced white privilege while travelling (the white or the not-so-white side), please share it on the comments! Remember that sharing is caring, so the more people aware of this situation, the better.

For now, I bid goodbye. I guess I’ll see you on the road.

Love,