NICOLAS MARTINEZ

Look, by no means am I claiming that I am utterly oppressed or have some sort of disadvantage in society. The fact that I have time to sit down and write a blog post about it indicates my privilege right off the bat. But something happened to me today that really got under my skin. When it comes to bloodline, I have a little bit of Mexican in me, some Yaqui Native American, Spanish, Irish, German etc. So I’m basically a mix of a whole bunch of white and brown. With that said, let’s set the scene:

I’m standing in Staples on my lunch break looking for new headphones. I’m wearing business casual and looking pretty sharp, if I do say so myself. I was dressed just like any other person in the store at the time: button down shirt, suit pants, dress shoes – shine and all. An older man who looked just like Albert Einstein came up to me and asked, “Are you an employee or a customer?” Now this seems pretty harmless right? My question is this: why ask me that question rather than ask any other person in the store who was dressed exactly like me, looking for things to buy just like me? I was confused by the question because not one thing about my outfit indicated that I worked at Staples.

I should note that all the Staples employees were wearing bright red shirts pinned with “Can I help you?” nametags. I should also note that all of the people working there were people of color. And finally, I’ll mention that all of the customers browsing the aisles were white.

In this man’s head, where did I fall? When he saw me, what did he think? Why was I the one that he picked? Maybe he was truly curious and made an honest mistake. And if it was based on my skin tone, I don’t assume he had any negative intentions. Rather, his implicit biases may have directed him toward me, because in his world view, my darker skin traditionally assumes the role of retail employee, rather than business professional. I don’t blame him. That’s the way the world works.

And some people might say that this was a one-off occasion; I should just brush it off and stop being so sensitive. But my response is this: if I told you this happened all the time, would you believe me? If I told you that this isn’t the first time it has happened, would you consider listening?

Maybe this man looked at me and believed, in his heart of hearts, that I was the only one that could help him find that memory card adapter, and for that, I am grateful.