There is a blog circulating the internet. It’s a worldwide sensation. You probably have heard about it already. http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com
This particular post identifies that white people generally like being the only white person around. I didn’t know this was across the whole race!
I must admit, I love being the only white person anywhere. When my friend Gail comes to town, the thing I look forward to most is eating with her family. They usually ask me if what I want to order, but I refuse to say because I only want exactly what they eat. Am I objectifying them? no matter. I get annoyed though if they order something they think white people like. When we go to dim sum, they ask me if I want something on a cart. …. should I feel embarassed that I always say yes??
I love being in a crowd of any particular race. call me a reverse racist, fine. I once got lost going the wrong way on Myrtle Ave in Brooklyn… I found sooo many places I where I wanted to eat. I felt like I finally found a home.
I always want to be where the real places are. To me, an influx of white people = gentrification = watered down cultures. The original post is true when they say white people scowl when they see other white people in the chinese restaurants. It’s a neverending search for what is legit. I want where the locals go, always. I can’t stand a tourist trap.
It’s not only skin color, places like Greenpoint and Brighton Beach in Brooklyn fascinate me. It’s like going to the animals’ natural habitat. In the same fashion as I don’t want to see a polar bear kept in a zoo, I’d much rather see him and 1000’s of other chill out around the glacier. I want to see what these people do naturally, I want to eat the food created by them for them.
I grew up in a Jewish family, in an Irish/Italian neighborhood, with a weak sense of any ethnicity. I didn’t think about us as white people or other people as a certain race. I had no concept of ethnicities in high school. I did always like to eat interesting dishes, but I didnt entirely understand the background to the food. One of my favorite memories was going to my Italian neighbor’s Christmas dinner. She made Italian dishes that were so strong and flavorful. I still think about that bacala…