In the fall of 2019 I moved onto Fourth North in Carter Hall, and met my three freshman roommates I would be sharing a 4-man with: Mally Bright, Becca Dillon, and Elysse Carrillo. Mally was from Alabama, Becca was from South Carolina, and Elysse was from Florida. Over the summer we had all met over facetime wherein we had the most awkward introductory conversation of all time, and Elysse and I really carried the conversation (characteristically Elysse or I would ask a generic stock question to the group, Mally would give a quick answer that ended in a joke, and Becca would say a few words that were muffled by her bad connection).
Coming to college was the most terrifying thing that I’d ever done. All three of my roommates seemed to be coming up with new ideas every day of what to bring to decorate our room and I couldn’t think of a single thing that I could bring; which clearly indicated that they would all hate me and kick me out of the room. Then I had a divine revelation.
Mally could bring the shower curtain, Becca could bring the TV, Elysse could bring the microwave, but I could bring the refrigerator. I can’t express how much main character moment energy I had when I realized that I could bring such a large and expensive contribution to the room. Then a week before we moved in, Elysse texted our group chat the following message:
“Hey guys! I’m here early for soccer so I went ahead and got a fridge for us to use!”
I was DEVASTATED. My only input in the room, gone! I immediately came to the conclusion that Elysse was a terrifying varsity soccer goddess who would loom over me (I’m 5’2) and dangle her fridge superiority over me for an entire year. Imagine my surprise when I moved in and met my 5’0 roommate with her head in the clouds and her heart on her sleeve!
Elysse is half Guatemalan and half Cuban, and I’ve had the immense privilege of getting to be her friend for over two years now. This year she has been much more vocal about her pride in being Latina and about her cultural heritage, which has been a privilege to see — not only because I am delighted to see her take such pride in who she is, but also because it has helped me become aware of my own internalized racial prejudice.
I have always considered myself to be completely blind to race — for most of my life I have had the classic Gen-Z white mentality of “I don’t see race, I just see people!” and I never considered the ways in which that mentality might be dishonoring to my brothers and sisters from different cultural backgrounds than mine.
As a freshman I used to joke with Elysse about how she had the most “white-girl” energy out of all of us, and as I didn’t want to appear sensitive to racial differences I never once took the time to ask her about what being Latina meant to her. I never asked her how she felt about the fact that she didn’t speak fluent Spanish, and I did not once take the time to ask her about her or her parents’ cultural heritage.
Because I did not want to appear to see race in any context, I didn’t consider the ways in which my culture was so easily represented and hers was not. It was easy for me to talk about the Disney Channel movies and shows that I grew up with — it was not easy for Elysse to tell me that she did not care for the ways that Latino and Hispanic people were portrayed in them. It was easy for me to joke about the stereotypes that come with being a girl and liking Starbucks, Target, and Taylor Swift — it was not easy for Elysse to tell me that it was hurtful to her when I told her she had “white girl energy.”
A few weeks ago, Elysse took me and another one of our friends to a restaurant that served pupusas. Pupusas are a kind of thick flatbread that are fried and often stuffed with things like cheese, refried beans, or squash, and they are most commonly found in Latin American countries (Guatemala, El Salvador, and Honduras in particular). Elysse was incredibly excited to share food with us that was from her culture — it was a rare opportunity for her.
For me and our friend (who, like me, is white and from the South), it was incredibly easy to look around and find our cultural heritage anywhere we looked, so I didn’t think too hard about how much this trip meant to Elysse until we got in the car after our meal (which, by the way, was incredible). She told us how nervous she had been the whole day that we would have not enjoyed it or that we would be disinterested in the whole experience.
For a split second I was puzzled — why would my roommate worry that I wouldn’t be open to experiencing a different culture than my own? Then I was convicted; she was worried because I had never given her any reason to believe that I actually would be. I’d lived with her for two and a half years and it was the fall semester of our Junior year before I actively engaged her in her culture and its traditions. So as we left the pupusería all I could think to myself was: “Why on earth did it take me this long?”
Covenant College, let’s not pretend that we are not a campus that is vastly a majority of white people. It is so easy for us to assume that we are a college that is good at representation, because for most of us it is easy to look around and see our culture and our race widely represented. But merely taking a class with a professor of color or having a roommate who is Latina doesn’t mean that you’re actively taking part in the conversation that celebrates all nations.
Ask. Ask your friends, professors, coworkers, and church family about their heritage and what makes them proud of it. I wish that I’d asked Elysse two years ago what being Latina meant to her, because I would have known her a lot better for the past two years. I’m very thankful that she had the courage to share it with me even despite my lack of asking.
As I shared a traditional Guatemalan meal with Elysse, I sipped a drink made of corn and condensed milk called Atole de Elote, and I was incredibly honored to be able to do so.