Once I got closer I realized all the whites were on one team and all the colored people on the other, like a cat with a black back and a white stomach.
Uh oh! What team should I be on? I thought to myself as I walked the grimy pavement. Although I looked more light- than dark-skinned (which always made me stand out like a fox in a hen house, but that’s another story entirely), I always valued my Guatemalan side because it set me apart from most people.
After asking and getting a response, both teams gave me the right-of-way to choose one. I felt split, like a small child with a marshmallow and a cupcake in front of him told he can only eat one. I received both kind and snarky remarks, such as, “Don’t go with the dumb white boys!” or “C’mon Jaydon, you’re white, right?” or “Come with us man, we’re better.” It was time to make a decision.