Life

When It's Wrong to Be a Good Sport

I was paid to smile while serving patrons. Racism is nothing to smile at.

By Fabiola Carletti, 26 Aug 2010, Schema Magazine

Fabiola

Carletti: A verbal punch in the stomach. Photo: Justin Langille

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I still remember the bright yellow menus, the ubiquitous TV screens and the lingering smell of chicken wings in my hair. As an undergrad, I spent many nights serving tables and scouring my apron for extra packets of dill sauce.

A sports bar may seem like a strange entry point for a reflection on race, so I should mention that my ethnicity came up all the time. My customers asked "where are you from?" about as often as they asked about the actual hotness of the hot wings. When they tried to guess, they would point to all kinds of obscure indicators, like my ethnic-looking earrings or my vague resemblance to a friend of theirs from Peru, India or Lebanon. I was the kind of server who wore a smile as if it were part of the uniform, entertaining customer curiosity without question.

The first time I played this guessing game at the restaurant, I was serving a table of four men.

"How are you guys doing over here?" I asked in my patented chirp. We engaged in light banter as I collected their empty pints and ravaged nacho trays.

"Just curious," said one man.

"We've been wondering -- where are you from?"

Although there was no game on that night, these men still seemed like they had their wagers set. I scanned the restaurant, which wasn't too busy, and stood there holding a non-committal grin.

They placed their bets: Persian? Brazilian? Filipino? Portuguese?

"I speak Spanish," I hinted.

"And I was born in a small country in Central America."

One man responded with a tentative, "mmm-Mexico?"

"El Salvador," I finally said.

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"I was born there and moved to Toronto when I was two-years-old." 

This brief explanation felt worn-in like a well-read novel. I had shared it for as long as I could remember, and I didn't feel much of anything when I repeated it.

Over the years I had somehow internalized that this was a geography game, not a history lesson, and that talk of the civil war and my fleeing family wasn't good repartee. Particularly when on the job, I'd never say "Canada," "Toronto," or some other version of "here." I'd let customers indulge in distancing my Canadian-ness: I would be agreeable and they would be satisfied. I admit, by temperament, habit, and job-description, I wanted to people-please. And I usually didn't mind playing along if the customers seemed well intentioned. In fact, if they asked about my last name, I'd even mention my far-flung Italian roots.

I was loath to think this laid-back attitude was anything less than a personal choice. No big deal, right?

But deep inside, I knew it could be. Some people were not "just curious."

Customer relations

During one quiet lunch shift, a man came in with his pre-teen son. I approached them with my usual affability and was surprised when the man gave me a hard glare. His son stared at his menu as if there were something unspoken between them.

Grumpy customers are nothing new, but there was something different about this one -- he wasn't just having a bad day. Every time I visited the table, I silently guessed at a different explanation: Did he want me to be servile, not chatty? Maybe he was rude to service workers generally. What if he was condescending towards women?

"Let me ask you something," he suddenly said to me, "Where are you from?"

His tone of voice jump-started my adrenaline.

My face flushed, and I stammered, "El Salvador."

"Oh," he said. "You're not native?"

"Daaad," said the boy, almost inaudibly. His dad dropped the subject and ordered dessert -- politely this time.

In the span of two minutes and without using any vulgarities, the man had left me badly shaken. I thought about the banality of prejudice, and how it could present itself so unexpectedly. I wondered if avoiding confrontation was, in this instance, making allowances for bigotry. I considered the First Nations people and the legacy of oppression still palpable today.

As my breathing quickened, I tried to decide whether I was feeling guilt or anger or disgust -- perhaps it was a potent blend.

After all, I had wanted to believe that I could be assertive when someone was making me uncomfortable, or at least push back with a "why do you ask?" or "what's that supposed to mean?"

Won't play along

"He didn't even guess right," said a fellow waitress, dismissively, when I told her what had happened. But it didn't matter that he had misidentified me; I felt the burn of racism on my skin. My mind began to fill with other anecdotes -- everything from a man who had asked me if I "even spoke English" when I'd prepared his hamburger incorrectly, to an airport worker who had told me that I could be deported to El Salvador because my passport had expired -- there were many times that I knew something wrong was happening, and I'd stayed quiet.

Then an early memory emerged. I was seven years old and sitting with my friend Jennifer, laughing and swinging our feet above the ground. Our legs froze when we saw the bully's scuffed sneakers walking toward us.

"I'm going to punch one of you in the stomach," he said, examining our widening eyes. We didn't run. We didn't speak. We probably didn't even breathe. He started to play a counting game.

"Eeny, meeny, miny," he said mechanically, pointing at me, then her, then me, then, "moe!"

He lunged forward and punched Jennifer, full force, in the stomach. Jennifer let out a chocked whimper and crumbled forward, crossing her arms. The bully turned to look at me. Then, as casually as he'd approached, he walked away. He had come for my neighbour, and I had done nothing. 

Years later, as I stared at the crude man's paid bill and empty chair, I once again felt like a quiet little girl. I was still playing nice and hoping the ugly things would go away. The line between being cordial and being complicit had definitely blurred.

In the years since this incident, I have come a long way. As quaint as it sounds, I now know it's possible to be a friendly person without allowing just anyone to take shots at my values. I can diplomatically address injustice without undergoing a hulk-like transformation into something I'm not.

I'm no longer a waitress at a sports bar, but there are some games I know will always be a part of my life. And when the rules are unfair, I will no longer be a "good sport."

Yesterday The Tyee collected other young Canadian voices writing in Schema Magazine about how it feels to be asked “But Where Are You Really From?” Read that article here. [Tyee]

Fabiola Carletti wrote this for Schema Magazine. She is a journalist in Vancouver pursuing a Masters degree in journalism at UBC. She completed a practicum with The Tyee during the Olympics.

18 Comments:

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  • dgiVista.org

    1 year ago

    Unopened Gifts

    Despite how often we are given an opportunity as Canadians to reflect on our socio-cultural prejudices, we just pass.

    And we stew in it all.

    Spectacular writing, by the way. Stunning flow. Give us more.

  • snert

    1 year ago

    Gotta work on those abs....

    then the verbal punches won't hurt so much. Insensitivity plus over sensitivity is a bad combination.

    'Where are you from' is usually a conversational ice breaker and yes it is a game simply because the person who asks it has probably already made up their mind and are just testing their preconceived notions.

    Not everybody has the social skills or the desire to peruse the matter further so it usually gets dropped after the first response but it can lead to a better rapport amongst both parties if handled with sincerity....also a bigger tip.

    It's a hard lesson in life to learn but verbal abuse creates a situation where the abused inflicts all the damage themselves. It's just not worth it to let some idiot make you ruin the rest of your day.

    "In the span of two minutes and without using any vulgarities, the man had left me badly shaken." In this instance there is a really good chance that the writer has just made, her own, any issues that the customer may have had.

    "Every time I visited the table, I silently guessed at a different explanation: Did he want me to be servile, not chatty? Maybe he was rude to service workers generally. What if he was condescending towards women?"

    Therein could lie the problem. Too much silent guessing.

  • wacqueline

    1 year ago

    Great piece

    I really enjoyed reading this, Fabiola. A lot of what you say resonates with my own experiences, particularly in work environments where people would try to guess my origins. No matter how I responded, they always seemed dissatisfied. I felt as though I was neither "ethnic" nor "Canadian" enough for them, despite that fact that Vancouver is home thousands of Chinese Canadians.

    I'm often so surprised at some remarks pertaining to my ethnicity ("What did your parents cook at home?" "Are you of the 19th century immigrant stock?" "How much do you *really* know about Italian food?") that I'm frequently at a loss of how to respond. Your article inspires me try and be more assertive in these circumstances.

  • freebear

    1 year ago

    I may be an 'odd one'

    but I can't remember when I have ever asked the question. I may wonder in my mind-as a geographer maybe.

    Perhaps because I grew up English in Quebec (more diverse Montreal)?

    I have always said I reserve my predujice to a-holes, and you have to get to know a person somewhat to make that determination!

  • John Greg

    1 year ago

    I don't get it.

    I guess I'm just thick, bit I really don't get it.

    Okay, so, people who ask after someone's genetic, historical, and/or cultural background as a convenient conversation opener are being nasty racist white folk.

    But if we're talking about African Americans, if you don't acknowledge their genetic, historical, and/or cultural background as being African even if the most recent arrivee was 300 or more years ago, you are also being a racist.

    And if we're talking Canada's First Nations folk, then we better ackowledge their genetic, historical, and/or cultural background as going back hundreds and hundreds of years. Or we're being racist.

    I'm sorry, but I think much of this sudden hostility toward folk asking "Where are you from" is really going over the top on victim wallowing and hyper-sensitivity. I do not mean to seem hard-hearted, but I think it's getting extreme.

  • the real ODB

    1 year ago

    Gracias Fabiola!

    I can see how being asked this can be irritating. However, I'm sure a lot of people ask this simply out curiosity. Having travelled quite a bit, I'm always trying to guess people's ethnic origins. 1: I'm curious. 2: I want to see if I'm right! But I never ask someone, "where are you from?". I try to be polite and ask what the person's "ethnic" or "ancestral" background is. I'm Canadian, but my ethnic background is English and Irish. Maybe that's why I fight with myself all the time! I spent 6 months traveling thru Mexico & Central America in the early 80's and spent close to a month in El Salvador. Although the people were very poor and in the midst of a horrific civil war (thanks America!), they were very friendly, honest and straight-up. Even the soldiers and police were friendly with me. Of course it could be more out of curiosity than anything else. Who is this "loco gringo" wandering around playing tourist? Don't let the racists and dumb asses of the world get to you. There's too many and they're not worth it!
    PS: usted es muy guapa!

  • Fii

    1 year ago

    I agree with John and ODB

    I think most of the time people are simply curious and making small talk. Perhaps they are clued out to assume you weren't born here/immigrated as a child, it being so multi-cultural, but I've been irritated by the very opposite! Once I was sitting with a group of co-workers at a restaurant and one (mixed race) woman started asking everyone at the table where their parents were from. There were quite a few non-Caucasian mployees... so she was going around the table and people were saying "Oh, my mum is Korean and my dad English" etc., and she got to me, paused very briefly, then cont. on without waiting for me to reply. It was amazing, and I was insulted- and it's because I'm just oh, "white" I guess. No cultural background there, ya know? I just popped off the same White tree as the rest of the White folks out there. So I WANT people to ask about my background and where my parents immigrated from!

    Perhaps that's why I quite enjoyed it when I lived in Asia and was followed down streets, photographed, stared openly at, called "Meguk saram, Waeguk saram, foreigner, weiguoren" (variations of American/foreigner) to my face, and had English words yelled at me (mostly stuff like 'What time is it? :) For the most part it was always done out of genuine interest/curiosity of my "exoticness" in that part of the world and I enjoyed it.

    Racism is defined as an unfavourable opinion of someone based soley on their race. Asking someone where they are from and trying to guess their ethnic origin is NOT racism.

  • happy

    1 year ago

    Speaking as a shallow male

    I can assure you Ms Carletti, that most times this happens its b/c the men you are serving are talking about you b/c they consider you attractive. So this is the easiest way to strike up a conversation with you, as they are hoping the attractive female returns the interest in them and will smile and talk to them. It's a guy thing, you don't have to read anymore into it than that.
    The knob that thougt you might be native is the exception to the rule. Theres always one in every crowd.....

  • vilde chaye

    1 year ago

    curiousity is not racism

    RE: Racism is defined as an unfavourable opinion of someone based soley on their race. Asking someone where they are from and trying to guess their ethnic origin is NOT racism.

    I totally agree. A slightly thicker skin also wouldn't hurt.

  • Walt

    1 year ago

    Simple question?

    When someone asks you where you're from, the answer should be where you live, not where your ancestors come from. Asking someone's genetic, historical, and/or cultural background can only pertain to someone who is colorless.

  • bilgladstone

    1 year ago

    some people are just... wtf

    I remember several years ago when I was delivering flowers or something to a lady who was clearly (by her name and pronounced accent) of German decent. She asked where I was from. I was born in Toronto.

    No, she said, where are your people from?

    My father was from Scotland and mother from England.

    Ah, she said, I thought it might be that, looking at your long, pointy nose.

    Zuh?

  • dorothy

    1 year ago

    If we don'tget too grim about it

    This is really rather a fun subject with so many little nooks and crannies of the most un-expected sort, a right regular Externsteine of social exploit. I remember many years ago, a relatively new Canadian, I was welcomed into a volunteer organization by one of its veterans with the words 'We have all kinds of ethnic people joining, and they all feel right at home with us.' I was a little gob-smacked. I had believed that I would have needed blue sparks flying off my hair and more color in my face and/or more interesting eyes to qualify as 'ethnic'. Now, of course, I know better: Danish is far from being mainstream Canadian. And, I did feel right at home.

  • G West

    1 year ago

    Fabiola Carletti

    Thank you.

    I don't know if this will make you feel better, or worse, but here goes:
    Whatever you've experienced in a big cosmopolitan city like Toronto, or even a small provincial place like Vancouver, would pale by comparison with what you would have had to put up with in almost any part of Alberta or Saskatchewan.

    There, unless you’re pure white bread (and definitely not French Canadian) you’ll be toast…

    Good luck.

  • puppyg

    1 year ago

    A meaningful piece for me -

    A meaningful piece for me - thanks. Comments, too, are tops.

    There is a world of difference between well-intended curiosity and racist intrusion and we would all do well to wear thicker skins and be generous with benefit of doubt... be true to self... do no harm.

    All my issues have been covered in the comments - love of travel, enthusiasm for other cultures, desire to share and connect and also the hurt of having someone recoil from me as if I were a spider because I expressed an interest. Now I know that such sensitivities are out there and I tread more lightly, but I no longer whip myself nor do I take responsibility for other people's hang-ups.

    Anyone who demands that I never acknowledge their ethnicity or country of origin is also demanding that I submerge a huge part of myself. Dare I say, they are losing out. We both are.

  • shepsil

    1 year ago

    Some people need sensitivity training or just plain manners.

    I am a blond, blue eyed male and my experiences with racism, sexism and bigotry pales in comparison to any white woman, let alone a visible minority.

    Just because someone is a server (and is a woman, and is a visible minority), it doesn't give one a pass to ask anything personal of that person.

    As the most privileged class in the world, I have to admit to feeling a backlash against my race, sex and overall class. But, I console myself with it having been well earned over the years, centuries in fact.

    Get over yourselves guys and try giving woman and other historically picked on individuals some respect. In our lifetimes, most of us white men will likely not even come close to the discrimination that most women and minorities experience on a regular basis.

  • Machiatto

    1 year ago

    Thank you

    Thanks for writing your article and opening up a bit of your self for that rare introspective glimpse of seeing through the eyes of a working person new to Canada.
    I admire so much the attitude of hard working new Canadians and as for putting up with this demanding question, you should know you are well within your right to turn heel and ask another server to attend.
    Obviously your manager is an equal opportunity hiring person and kudos to him/her. Hence, I'll wager a wild guess and say such a persons business may be turned away if rude,belligerent,overtly racist etc.
    But because you have found out more about your self and the curious nature of Canadians (I think we are naturally curious about exotic good looking girls in general!) and really it might be taken as a compliment. But I am sure many Canadians would be shocked to learn of some of your country of origins present and past troubles i.e. unions, labor strife etc. Even the rude gentleman may have been deserving of some enlightenment. note : good films Crossing Over starring Harrison Ford and CRASH (Oscar winner).Both deal with issues of immigration and racism

  • MickFinn2001

    1 year ago

    Thin skin?

    Really, thin skin? How many white servers are asked "where are you from" - yeah, not that many, if any. Res ipsa loquitor.

  • Katatak

    1 year ago

    condoning curiosity without racist intent

    I think people's backgrounds are very interesting. Where our parents and grandparents came from and how they arrived in Canada are part of who we are; when I ask someone where their family came from or what their cultural background is, I'm expressing curiosity and a desire to get to know that person better.

    The real kicker is when people disagree with you. Like when I lived in Singapore, it wasn't uncommon for elderly Chinese ladies to ask where I came from. Nor was it uncommon for them to tell me I was wrong when I told them I was fully Caucasian. I don't know why, but they always thought I was Japanese and tried to insist that I was. I was also told that I don't look Canadian, even when I tried to explain what an ethnically diverse country this is.

    The sad thing is, some people asking about ethnic/cultural/biological heritage are racist. And racism is a lot more than an unfavourable opinion of someone based on their race...oppression, power, feelings of superiority all play a role. It's up to all of us to speak up when we witness racist behaviour rather than let our silence condone such ignorance.

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