It’s Monday, May 15.

Exactly 12:07 AM.

And just eight minutes ago was the American form of Mother’s Day. Of course, my mother received a gift from us, her children, and she wore a smile on her face…

But as I’m awake now, I can’t help thinking that a few days prior to yesterday’s lovely moments, my mother came home sobbing.

“Que tienes ma?”, was all I could ask when I saw her stained, puffy eyes, along with her red nose. I kept thinking in my mind, something’s wrong. It wasn’t a small sniffle that she gives when being upset, it was painful weeping; a weeping sound that has kept me up tonight writing this. And then the story was told:

She had spent an entire day at Sam’s Club, not anywhere fancy, just a necessary job for a humble woman as herself to support her family. It was late at night when she got into the car, unsuspecting of what later would happen. But as she was making her way home, a flash of red and blue appeared in her rearview mirror.

The officer said she had a broken headlight and asked the question: license and registration? A few days before this incident, my mother had changed her license from Arkansas to Texas, so, she had her paper form in her purse in the back seat. She had asked politely if she could get it. Seeing as there were no other choice, the officer agreed. Her purse is black and very large, so I suppose the officer got alarmed at the sight and gripped his hand on his gun asking her to drop the purse and put her arms up.

My mother, being frightened, dropped the purse. He then proceeded to ask if she could grab the purse with one hand and dump all her belongings onto the backseat. Out came her wallet with her paper license.

She thought the encounter would be over with after she showed him her license, but he then asked for her papers/green card. She told him that she didn’t carry her green card with her, that it was at home. His voice became harsh, and he talked to her as if she didn’t understand.

But what struck her the most was when he had taken her picture, after asking for her papers and green card.

And finally, he let her go. On her way home, she had seen three others stopped, and she began to cry…

Now some of you may say, oh that was nothing. It doesn’t matter, and there was no reason for her to cry. Her tears weren’t just because she had been stopped. It was the hurt and pain that she felt for her people, the harshness in the officer’s voice, treating her like an animal, and the anxiety of what would happen next.

Discriminating is not an action with no cause, it’s the causes that push people to commit these actions towards other innocent people, and sometimes there’s no way of controlling it.

Greed.

Jobs, lifestyles and education are significant to people. Everyone comprehends that concept. I understand that immigrants are unwanted here, but their culture, foods and languages are not what makes them unbearable. In fact, Americans love that. In our case, most love Mexican food, Spanish music, some are fascinated by the traditions of the Hispanic culture. Many schools, including mine offer Spanish, French and various other alien languages. But that’s not the problem. The problem is greed. Greed is a quality that can cause tremendous conflict between anyone. Even to the point where discrimination is involved.

Disconnect.

We often don’t see what each other’s struggles are. Whether it be money, family, school or any other necessary factor to our lives. Yet we are the generation of connections, the ones with the cellphones, social medias, so consumed in them that we’re wrapped in bubble wrap. We know so much, the generation of millennials. Gay marriage has been accepted, transgender bathrooms have been accepted, everything has been accepted, except for one thing: being able to accept what can’t be changed. It’s outstanding to see how connected we seem, but yet to see how disconnected we really are.

And most importantly, color.

Our colors, the qualities that we should be admiring about one another is what makes us despise each other so much. We dig in so deep that we make people want to scrape the pigment off their skin. So much, that many wish to change what they can’t change. So much, that the hatred we spread begins to reach their lives to the point where hating themselves is all they can do. Color is what everyone curses, but in reality it’s not a curse, it’s a gift. We all can bruise, break bones, scar, bleed, cry, smile, laugh. We’re all the same. Each and everyone of us are, yet we’re all different in beautiful ways. The segregation of color has sent men to war, killing millions, separating families, and has destroyed us mentally.

Discrimination is becoming worse and it’s ruining us. Love has no color, but every color should be loved.