It’s been a year since I first starting writing for Odyssey, and only now, are white people starting to recognize that I might not be invested in my own white privilege. I wrote awhile back that I didn’t find white people “participating” in Dia de (Los, optional arituculo) Muertos respectful -- to the contrary, I found it racist and indicative of an imperialist impulse. There were some small concerns that I’ll address -- no, Guillermo del Toro did not direct "The Book of Life," he helped produce it. No, not all Latinx peoples celebrate Day of the Dead. And yes, the “Catrina” sugar skull is a tradition of satirizing European aristocrats. Yet amidst the “criticism," there was very little of substance other than the false charge that I claimed to be speaking for all those of Latinx and indigenous descent who do celebrate Dia de los Muertos. In fact, very little attention was paid to the numerous links provided that validated my argument that white people have a lot to answer for in the way of appropriating other cultures. I’m not the first to raise ire against whites appropriating other peoples’ cultures, nor will I be the last.

Why does this matter so much? A question I thought I answered civilly and thoughtfully before seems to have been lost in translation. Were it not for the history of American imperialism and white people colonizing non-whites, this might have been a different discussion. Alas, it is not. Many folks chose to focus on my outward pale-skinned appearance (ah, yes, thank you for debating the duplicitous nature of my Hispanic and indigenous heritage, nevermind perpetuating the colorism pyramid and heightening my own privilege) and my other intersections of personal identity with relation to Guatemala, having never met me or my father. It is indicative of the sociopathy of Whiteness in white peoples that folks believe that they have a right to interrogate me over my claim to my own culture (some thought that my viewing of “The Book of Life” was the very first time I had ever thought about Guatemala at all, again, not paying attention to the other times I’ve written about my father’s homeland), ignoring the hundreds of years of Spanish-induced genocide and suppression of independence movements that originally formed the basis of my outrage towards those who ignorantly appropriate from Latinx peoples who celebrate Dia de Muertos as a religious and spiritual holiday.

While this modus operandi of Whiteness is unsurprising, it is no less disappointing that my heartfelt plea that white folks take the time to do their research and consider the feelings of their local Latinx communities who celebrate Dia de Muertos goes unheard. I no longer care to be civil toward "fellow" white people when speaking of my Latinx identity, when those much darker than myself face such harsh discrimination and imperialist violence on a daily basis. My abuelo spent his life advocating for mestizx and indigenous peoples during a brutal civil war that tore our country apart. He died of a heart attack before I was born, his alcoholism finally having caught up with him. His spirit broke because of his isolation. I only hope to make him proud and it disappoints me that there are those who believe I say what I say out of selfishness, and not a desire for wisdom, justice, and love.