As part of our ongoing series of articles commemorating equity holidays and month-long celebrations, we are today commemorating the close of National Hispanic Heritage Month by sharing thoughts from Xavier Verna, Groundwork’s Major Gifts Officer. As told to Jeff Smith.

One thing to know about me is that I am considered Caribbean American because my mother is of Puerto Rican descent—which falls under the Hispanic definition—but I am also of African descent because my father is a Haitian. I bring this up as a reminder that as complicated as the race discussion is in the United States, it’s really, in my experience, even more complicated than most people would realize by following the news. I am of mixed heritage and so are millions of other Americans, and there will be far more people of mixed race in America as the coming decades play out.

I lived in Puerto Rico from the time I was 2 until I was 12, when both of my parents worked for AT&T/Bell Labs. Spanish is my first language. And there is so much I remember lovingly about my childhood there. A few memories that I cherish, my dad loved a bread called pan de agua, water bread, and we would go to a market together nearly every week and buy this delicious fresh bread. And another, we’d go to a sherbet stand, and I would always order parcha flavor—passion fruit. And of course my mom’s cooking was delicious.

Also, there is great weather year round in Puerto Rico, so it was easy to be outside a lot. My dad would take my sister and me kayaking on Sundays after church year round. And my friends and I were outside all the time. My friends and I would skateboard constantly. I was kind of a daredevil when I was a kid. That was the big thing, skateboarding. But trends would come through, like suddenly every kid was riding a bike. Or everybody was rollerblading. But we were always very, very active.

And the music … my mom always had music on. There was always music and always people dancing. That’s what life was like. All the adults were always dancing at any party. Christmas party. Holiday party. Any time they got together. That is one thing I remember.

“There’s nothing nice and neat and monolithic about the race story here, and my story isn’t nice and neat either.”

But also In the Caribbean, hurricanes are part of life. We are always keeping people we know there in our thoughts—our family and friends. The thing is, hurricanes are of course a terrible thing, but like any act of God, hurricanes are also understood there as a part of life. Nobody moves away from Puerto Rico because of possible hurricanes. They just build houses that can withstand that. I remember four major hurricanes that happened when I was a child there. One time our neighbor’s palm tree ended up in our pool.
 
So there were so many beautiful things I loved in Puerto Rico, and some challenges, and that is kind of like my social experience there as well.
 
One thing that can happen when you are mixed race is you can feel like you don’t belong. For example, when I was growing up in Puerto Rico, a handful of the Puerto Rican kids in my neighborhood would make fun of me because my dad was black. One example, when I smile, I reveal a dark thread tracing through my gumline (disclaimer, I have perfectly healthy teeth) and that was “different.” Somehow it was tied to my dad, and he and I both were made fun of. And even though those kids were in the minority, their words really affected my view of life there. It was a lot for me to take on as a child. 
 
When I was 12, my family moved to the Washington, D.C., area. Notice that I said, “moved to,” not “immigrated to.” Puerto Rico is a territory of the United States and the people there are U.S. citizens and have been since 1917. Anyway, that’s when things really took off for me, because I got involved in music in seventh grade, and I discovered that music was my community. In my life, that’s where I found a community that I liked, that accepted me for who I was.

“For years you were allowed to check only one ethnicity box. Now I’m seeing you are allowed to check any boxes that apply to you.”

Before I found music, it was like a constant fog hung over my life—a fog that came from discrimination and from not belonging. And when I got involved in band, that fog lifted. Music was my savior. It also helped that the high school I went to was very diverse. And in the music program we had kids from all different parts of the world—the Middle East, Asia, South and Central America. I fit in so naturally with the fabric of the music community, and it felt wonderful.
 
You know, a lot of people are very outspoken about their heritage. They wear it loud and proud, like decals on their cars and flags outside their homes, that kind of thing. But I don’t really do that. I have one piece of Puerto Rican memorabilia I carry around, and it’s a bottle opener with a Puerto Rican flag on it, even though my first language is Spanish and I lived there until I was 12. Maybe it’s because I didn’t really feel I belonged in my Puerto Rican neighborhood as a kid, and I never spent a lot of time in Haiti, I don’t really know, but really I don’t go through life thinking of myself as Puerto Rican American or Haitian American. I am an American living the American dream like lots of other people. I know that doesn’t square with a lot of the race conversation in America today, but as I said, there’s nothing nice and neat and monolithic about the race story here, and my story isn’t nice and neat either. 
 
For many people, their heritage is something they keep quiet and personal. That is why I was a little hesitant talking about this. You know, it’s like everything has a label in our country, and growing up, those checkboxes about race and identity changed a lot. Not for white Americans, there’s always the “white” checkbox on the form, but throughout my life, until recently, I did not see Puerto Rican in those ethnicity checkboxes. For the longest time it was Hispanic, and then it was Latino, you know. I remember too that for years you were allowed to check only one ethnicity box. Now I’m seeing you are allowed to check any boxes that apply to you. It’s constantly changing. The gender identity movement began, and there was a new checkbox. People are trying to find their place, and it just makes it very hard to talk about it. And I think that’s part of the reason why I was a little hesitant.
 
I feel these days people are looking for some advice in how to navigate race and ethnic conversations. I’d say be aware of the assumptions that we make about one another, and I’m 100% guilty of it too, but there are the assumptions that we make about one another that can lead to creating boundaries or making people uncomfortable or making them feel different—othering them. We shouldn’t make people feel different. I believe that everybody is of some mixed race. I feel like a lot of people have that story. So I just feel like the point to all of that is, if you really are curious, if you want to learn more about a person, your neighbor, your coworker, for example, you can politely ask about them and about their culture. But don’t act so surprised because it can convey a kind of judgment. Like when people learn I grew up in Puerto Rico and they say, “But you don’t even have an accent!” And I think, So, I’m supposed to have an accent?

Xavier Verna is Groundwork’s Major Gifts Officer.
xavier.verna@groundworkcenter.org