I signed in a Hispanic man at the reception desk at work today. Handsome, dressed professionally, olive skin, dark hair, kind eyes, gentle demeanor. I only knew he was Hispanic because his last name is Gonzalez. He had come to troubleshoot our broken copy machine. After he left the reception area, my coworker asked me what the gentleman was there to do. I told her. She cracked a nervous joke about being worried that he was Iranian.
Last week one of my coworkers wore a baseball cap with the confederate flag emblazoned on it. He is not the first to show off confederate flag memorabilia at work, but he was the one I was most surprised to see repping it. I have a good rapport with him. Actually, I have a pretty good working relationship with everybody at work who dons confederate flag memorabilia. We're friendly to each other. We don't delve into ideological conversations. I'm learning to compartmentalize my emotions depending upon my surroundings.
Sometimes I get home and I just cry.