by Xenia Ruíz My birth certificate contains a mistake. Where it asks for my parents’ race, “White” is neatly typed. Although my father was the color of vanilla, my mother was dark caramel. Back in the early 1960’s, there was no category for “Hispanic” so Puerto Ricans were recruited into the White category—until someone noticed that dark-skinned folks were getting off the flights from Puerto Rico. Ironically, in Puerto Rico (where my mother claims there is no racism), on the birth certificates of children born in the ’60s, parents were…
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