Dilemma?

Am I somehow failing the struggle of the generations of women in knocking down the walls that relegated us to second class citizens? Just the term "housewife" sounds demeaning. My mother prefers the term "domestic goddess"--but will I ever be appreciated? Will my husband come home and kiss me on the forehead and say "Wow, you are incredible...you work so hard" or will he throw his coat on the couch, prop his feet up in front of the game and ask why dinner is taking so long? Ten years from now will I look back and think, "I could have been a brilliant attorney" or "I could have won a Nobel Prize" while I am scrubbing the kitchen floor on my hands and knees? I WANT to have children and be a good wife, but will that be enough? I know I cant be "of the world", but I want a little recognition!! What if I want someone to call me Dr.? What if I want to have that 5-star restaurant? What if I want to be respected and regarded with respect? We are told to get an education and go as far as we can, but does that mean we should run until someone lassoes our ankles and drags us to the ground? Is it only men who will get to follow their dreams?
Dont misapprehend--I understand that motherhood is noble and invaluable, but will anyone else see it as such? Probably not, for it is the most thankless profession. So for all my hard work and intelligence, will I just be a housewife that washes the dishes and picks up the kids from soccer? Why did I even go to college? Why did I spend thousands of dollars just to end up doing the same things any 17 year old nanny can do?

D.W.H. (Driving While Hispanic): the Not-So-New Misdemeanor

I was leaving a salsa club with my friends one night—it just so happened that all of us in the car were young, Hispanic females. The street the club was on was well lit and I had a prime parking spot right in front. I pulled out of the spot and then signaled to turn right and flicked on my lights because I realized they were off. I had driven maybe 20 yards. No sooner had I turned right than red and blue lights flashed behind me. On his way to my window the police officer shined his flashlight in my back seat and then blinded me as he asked for my license. Im not stupid, he was checking to see if my eyes twitched when I looked to the side—giving me the drunk driving test without any evidence. He said “do you know what I pulled you over?” brusquely and I calmly responded that I wasn’t sure but probably because I forgot to put my lights on. He said that driving with lights off was the first sign of drunk driving. I wasn’t buying it. He thought I was drunk because 1) Im a girl and I tend to forget to turn my lights on when the street is brighter the surface of the sun, 2) I drive a black car with a big “Republica Dominicana” sticker on it, 3)oh yeah, Im Hispanic and so was my passenger. However the idiot didn’t know that the club doesn’t even serve alcohol.

One of the attorneys in the firm where I work has a client who was charged with DWH during a routine traffic stop in Box Elder County. (If you arent familiar with Box Elder County, the mentality is the equivalent of Mississippi and Alabama in the 1950s). Apparently he was going five miles an hour over the speed limit. Unfortunately for him he had copious amounts of Hispanic male paraphernalia and was in possession of a nice car. Also he had greater than 1 oz of baggy clothes...jail time for sure. Well, he was driving on a suspended license but the cop wouldnt have known that if he hadnt pulled him over for D.W.H. Wait, it gets worse. When he went in front of the judge for the suspended license the the Honorable White Hood ordered him to take a drug test and if he failed he would go to jail. Why was the ordered to take a drug test while having no priors and no drug history? Hmm...I guess his olive skin and black hair screamed drug addict.
I am honestly terrified that my safety and our justice system is in the hands of bigots like these.

Shifts

Its funny how your perspective changes with just a little time. A year ago I hated California and everything in it. Being from the East Coast, California seems like a state full of blonde ditzes with fake boobs and guys who smoke pot and surf all day. New England, after all, is the birthplace of modern America and arguably where culture and art is at its finest. New York is the center of everything from fashion to business and D.C. is just uber cool. East Coasters are snobs, and, we are kind of entitled to our pride. But my real reason for hating California had nothing to do with plastic surgery (after all, prior to this past summer I had never been west of Las Vegas)—it had everything to do with what I associated it with. My ex fiancé’s now-wife lived there and it was a Newport Beach cell phone number I found on our phone bill a few months before our wedding date. It was from California where she hailed that fateful night when he kissed her while there was still a ring on my finger. At the time I thought, “Its California”. I hated California and everything that it reminded me of. It wasn’t until over a year later that I stepped of the plane at L.A.X. and let the soft humidity wash over me that I realized how great it was. From In-N-Out to the absolutely perfect weather to the Whole Foods Market in Westwood, I was in love. Its funny how your prejudices melt away when you finally experience something for yourself. Like falling in love (twice) after breaking up with him. I thought I would never love anyone like I loved him—after all, in my naiveté I was convinced he was my soul mate. I thought that everyone would treat me the same (and sometimes I still do…sorry babe), traces of my prejudices still exist—but I’m learning to let myself experience trust. He doesn’t know this, but I am grateful to him. Ok, I could have done without the three weeks of not eating (well, actually, that was kind of great for my waistline) and crying myself to sleep for months, not to mention the heartache so tangible I felt like I had been stabbed—I owe him a huge “thank you”. Without him I never would have learned to go after what I really wanted.
I am happier than I have ever been...
Somehow I survived--somehow through the grace of God I made it out alive. And now I have the love (and am in love with) a man who makes me feel like a queen. He is like the other half of my soul....