Take the segregation and gang rivalry in Los Angeles or the hate crimes in southern states, like Texas and Atlanta.
My eyes and heart tend to steer me in that direction.
One thing I took away, but have yet to fully unpack, from my recent conversation with my mom is that I fear I may have heightened stereotypes, too.
She mentioned how the majority of stories of heartbreak and depreciation I shared with her in my younger days—one of which was physically harmful—involved black men. I was attempting to find love in a person I found attractive, consequences and all.
And, really, it roots deeper than my parents, my grandparents, and their parents before them.
Racial tension between Mexicans and blacks, especially on the west coast and in some parts of the south, is tied to an ugly history.
I can't pinpoint physical features or characteristics of black men because that's not only wrong, it's just not the entire case. Have I come across one that's caught my attention? I have strong Mexican men in my life, too—my father and my two brothers—that I hold close, respect, and admire.