No, really, I’m Hispanic. And I wish it wasn’t so hard to tell, says ELIZABETH WELCH – Dallas, Texas

“A lot of friends and co-workers saw my bio that appeared in this paper on Friday. This weekend, I fielded congratulations, along with several genuine expressions of surprise. Not surprise that I was writing a column, but surprise that I am Hispanic. Even people who know I am Hispanic said that they tend to forget that I am, looking at me every day. You see, I don’t look it. Or so people say. I’m sometimes tempted to ask, how can I not look Hispanic? I am Hispanic.

In fact, when people find out, most say, “Gee, I thought you were Irish.” I can, as we used to say back in the day, pass for white.

I don’t try to hide what I am. Heck, I bring tamales to the annual Christmas dinner at work. I occasionally act as a Spanish translator (with some struggle) at work. But my ethnicity is hidden. And I haven’t found a way to gracefully mention it when I meet people. Hi, I’m Elizabeth. Don’t let the green eyes fool you – I’m Mexican.”

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