“Will racist people inherit the kingdom of God?”
I’ve been asking myself that question all year.
2016, I’ve seen, heard, and felt some crazy stuff regarding race, ethnicity, and culture.
I went through a roller-coaster of anger, sadness, anger, and frustration.
Angry that people would make awful remarks regarding certain races.
Sad that people could actually feel like that towards people.
Angry that people actually think that it’s ok to feel like that and express it so boldly.
Frustrated that the rest of society are quiet bystanders.
Then I thought about me. Have I fed into this? Am I guilty of this too?
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Training Camp was exactly 3 months ago…
This blog is LONG overdue…
however I really had to have a heart check, a heart examination, a heart surgery and go through an extensive recovery before I could type these words.
Donde esta mi gente? Is Spanish for “Where are my people?”
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I rode in a car from Dallas, Texas to Louisiana with 3 girls and then we stopped in Monroe, Louisiana for the night and picked up another girl.
The car ride was full of stories about what God has done in our lives and it was seriously such an edifying car ride. The 11 hours were hardly felt because of God’s
sweet presence. The car consisted of different ethnic backgrounds and that made me feel super comfortable and at ease.
Until we pulled into the training camp grounds in Gainesville, Georgia.
All I saw was the color white.
Directly from my journal 6/7/2016 10pm
“We bonded on the way and it was awesome. Funny, and lots of sharing! Then we go to camp and it’s just A LOT! A LOT to take in! We all split. It feels weird. I know I
need to get out of my shell but I really don’t like to. I feel like an outsider. I just feel so so so awkward. But I’m reflecting on my thoughts and they suck. I just
want to stick to my own peeps. Hispanics, my comfort zone. I just want to GROW! I want to stop focusing on skin color and ethnicity. I want to be able to love us all.
I do. God I need you to help me with that. I need your help to get through the 11 months. I need you to chisel every imperfection!”
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Tuesday, June 14th,2016
I remember being so down during worship that I just sat down weeping out to God.
I was telling Him the condition of my heart at that moment and it was
uncertainty
discontentment
sadness
biases
stereotypes
hurt
& negative connotations
I had to get real with God that night and let go of ALL control regarding team formations.
“I told Him you know me better than I know myself and You know exactly what and who I need these next 11 months”
“These roots that are in me need to be uprooted!”
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God took me back to my childhood when my Papa Chepe lived with me. I remembered when he used to walk my sisters and I to the corner store
to buy chips, soda, and candy. As soon as we walked in my grandpa who never fully learned English would yell, “Hey Amigo que pasa?” to the Asian that owned the store.
This went on for years. When we went to the laundry mat to wash clothes my Papa Chepe would greet the Indian that owned the laundry-mat, “Hey Amigo que pasa?”‘
This also went on for years. “Hey Amigo que pasa?” means “Hey friend what’s up?” I remember grinning when I’d walk in with my Papa
and hearing them shout those phrases to each other, cause over the years the guys had learned spanish phrases.
I remember looking at my grandpa and loving that he was so proud of our heritage.
I remember getting a bit older and my Papa Chepe would share the stories from the ranches he worked on in the 70s in Texas.
He would speak highly of his black cowboy friends. I’ll never forget how sad he got once as he told me, “Celenne I saw how mean white people were to black people.
It was awful, but what could I do, I was an immigrant trying to provide for my family.
That’s why I left your grandma, mom, uncles, and aunt in Mexico. I couldn’t bring them to a country where they were going to be hated for their race and mocked for their language.”
I remember realizing then that I was different. I was indeed a different skin color. I spoke a different language. I visited another country for summer and winter breaks.
I remember making a conscious decision to love people no matter their race because that’s what had been modeled to me.
I remember to be patient with people who spoke English as a second language because that’s what I always wanted that t be done for my parents and grandparents.
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Over the years as I grew up and became a teenager,
I realized racism still existed. Stereotypes were awful. No matter where I went, biases would stand between us.
All of that started to creep into my heart. They started to make homes.
If someone from one race did something that I didn’t like I would quickly put that action to the character
of everyone that was of that race/ethnicity/culture.
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In 2009 I moved 6 hours West from North Texas to attend Texas Tech University in a small city (compared to Dallas) Lubbock, TX.
I realized real quick that when I saw people that looked like me didn’t mean they were like me.
I worked at Victoria’s Secret both in Lubbock and back home in the Dallas area. I was used to having to use my Spanish in the Dallas area.
So when I saw someone that looked like me in the V.S. in Lubbock I started speaking to her in Spanish and she looked at me
and in English said, “I have no idea what you’re saying to me” I was so embarrassed and apologized and spoke to her and everyone else in English from then on.
I later learned that the hispanics in Lubbock were 4th-6th generation Americans and most did not speak a word of Spanish.
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Summer 2011 it was my last semester of college and for 2.5 years I had lived with sorority sisters who were all Latinas.
When I told them I was graduating in December and needed roommates they all
said no because they didn’t want to sign a year lease if I was only going to be there for 6 months.
So I told my apartment complex that I didn’t find roommates so they put two randoms in the apartment that
I had lived in for 2 years with sisters.
When they sent me the e-mail with the names of my future roommates I realized they were both white I went into panic mode.
I had never been in such a close space with white people my age. I had friends that were white that were older than me and I loved them as family because they had seen me grow up.
However, these were two complete strangers and they were white.
Up until this moment I didn’t have such a positive image of white girls my age at Texas Tech.
When they moved in one proved all the stereotypes that I had to be true and the other one was the complete OPPOSITE, and I was shocked.
She is one of the nicest, self-less, sweetest people I had ever met. She’s one of my best friends now and it is a joy to do life with her.
She was there the night I gave my life to Jesus.
She has walked this walk with me and has been there for the good, bad, and the ugly.
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Since I gave my life to Christ I have surrendered my heart completely. I’ve surrendered my ways and thoughts to Him.
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March 2013 I started grad-school and my first class was Multicultural Counseling. My textbook was written by a 1st generation Chinese American.
It’s one of my all time favorite textbooks that I have ever read.
It’s also one of the first books that I have actually read cover to cover. It’s also one of the books that has made me weep and pray cover to cover.
To read how people from different cultures feel in America and how they have been persecuted/stereotyped/discriminated for their ethnicity really hurt my heart.
I remember sitting in my room and crying out to God, what can I possibly do? I can’t go back into time to change any of this.
I could sense Him replying, “You can love my children no matter what”.
So at the beginning of 2016 when everything started stirring in the United States, I was really afflicted by it.
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So let’s go back to training camp. I looked around the room during worship and saw that once again I was the minority.
I was in the minority groups all throughout elementary, middle and high school.
This time I was in the minority group at something that had to do with my love for God and it was HARD.
I’ve grown up in Hispanic churches and only attended a predominately white church in college.
It was hard to think I’m going to have to share a very close space with people that have no idea what I’ve experienced as a minority.
What if they have biases about my people?
So many thoughts and questions were going through my mind that I literally had to sit and just pray.
I prayed for God to reveal the roots of what I was experiencing. I saw different scenarios of life pass through my mind.
I had to forgive people that had offended me.
I had to ask God to forgive me for offending others.
I had to have a full heart surgery.
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It’s been 3 months since Training Camp.
It’s been 8 weeks since I left the States.
I have been living in community with my teammates for 8 weeks and with my squad for 2 weeks.
It has been an absolute joy to get to know everyone’s background and see that we all come from different walks.
I’ve had the honor and privilege to share my Mexican culture with my team-mates and squad-mates.
I’ve been able to make healthy clarifications about my culture to others.
-No Mexico, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and the Domican Republic are not the same.
-Yes we speak the same language.
-No we don’t eat the same foods.
-Yes we do look alike.
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I’ll never forget the conversation that I had with a baker in Maseru, Lesotho (Africa)
Him: What name do I put the cakes under?
Me: Celenne
Him: Like Celine Dion?
Me: Yes like her
Him: What’s the sur name?
Me: Torres
Him: Like the player?
Me: Yes like the soccer player.
Him: Excuse me are you Hispanic?
Me: Yes I am (grinning from ear to ear)
Him: I’ve only seen Hispanics on television
Me: haha we really do exist haha
Him: *shakes my hand* and smiling big
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“After these things I looked and behold , a great multitude which no one could number, of all nations, tribes, people, and tongues,
standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, with palm branches in their hands.” Revelation 7:9
I can’t wait to be united with all of my brothers and sisters worshiping our Lord and Savior.
What a colorful day it’ll be.
So for now it’s PRACTICE time.
