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| Visitor's stay on coast was marred by sting of racism By Nicole Conti--Matter of Opinion Published/Last Modified on Wednesday, August 22, 2007 12:37 PM PDT Driving in to Half Moon Bay as a weekend tourist I wonder where I fit. The great divide driving into your community is visibly evident. The hotels and restaurants that dot the coast and downtown and beckon upscale guests are on one side of the proverbial divide, and the workforce that supports them is on the other. I suppose the sting that I experienced two weekends ago is because, with my brown skin, I look more like the workforce than the guests. I've been raised from childhood in an upscale Bay Area community. I'm a young career woman, a wife, mother and a proud Mexican. My Mexican parents have worked hard to enjoy giving their children a life accustomed to the finer things. They made their children know that we can feel perfectly at ease dining and staying at beautiful places and that we can walk anywhere we please with our heads held high. My life in our diverse Bay Area hasn't been touched much with the sting of ignorant racism. I am utterly proud to be a member of a race that is incredibly hardworking and that prioritizes values and family. My husband, who happens to be white, and I have enjoyed weekend trips staying at a gorgeous Coastside hotel three other times and found it to be a relaxing atmosphere in a dream-like setting and worth the price tag. I had a very different experience recently and, after looking over the heated blogging on the Half Moon Bay Review Web site concerning the racial divide on the coast, it all becomes clear that we stepped into the path of the racial crossfire. My girlfriends, who also happen to be Mexican, and I planned a weekend getaway. I enthusiastically encouraged the group to choose this home-like gem of a coastal hotel because of the wonderful experiences I have had there in the past. I was excited for my girlfriends to see the gorgeous view of the ocean from our balcony and for all of us to relax in the oceanview jacuzzi together. After a long work week, we checked in on a Saturday afternoon, grabbed our beach towels for a walk down to the beach afterward, and headed straight for the jacuzzi. We had spent about a half-hour in the jacuzzi catching up with each other and chatting with the other guests when a gruff gentleman with an angry look approached the gate to the jacuzzi. He looked like he was a hotel employee, but the way he approached the gate made me think otherwise. "Are you guests of this hotel?" he pointedly asked one of my girlfriends. She didn't answer him; maybe she was as speechless as I. He said, "I'm not going to ask this again! Are you guests of this hotel?" Another friend spoke up a bit and told him that yes, we were staying there. He said, "Alright," in a threatening tone and stormed away. After learning that we were guests of the hotel he did not apologize. His anger showed us that we were not hotel "guests." We felt allowed to stay in the hotel but certainly not wanted. Could we perhaps have been fence-hopping spa sneakers that are friends and family of those very gentlemen that congregate at Mac Dutra Park? The minutes of awkward silence between us and the other guests, and embarrassment that followed, felt like hours. Later we asked and found out that that man was the front desk manager of the hotel. The gentleman of the older couple that was in the jacuzzi with us spoke up in an attempt to break the awkward silence. "I guess it's because this is usually an 'all-white' pool," he laughed. His attempt to make us feel more comfortable just further confirmed the feeling that it was the color of our skin that prompted the manager's anger. Needless to say, we were hurt and made to feel out of place. The room that we stayed in is a $425 penthouse suite and we knew that we could've stayed for a bit less, even at the "swankiest" hotel on the coast, but the cozy, friendly atmosphere is what drew me back to this hotel. My girlfriends and I are young professionals, mothers and wives who know one another from church. There is nothing about our appearance that should have prompted defensiveness on the manager's part other than, I suppose, the color of our skin. I feel silly for having to defend myself against that kind of bigotry. Hotel personnel told us the manager's response was due to the fact that we brought our own beach towels. How did the gate-storming manager know whose towel was whose when we were all immersed in water anyway? The general manager of the hotel also told me, in their defense, there was an unusual amount of people in the pool area. Their hotel has 54 suites. It seems like they might typically have more than eight guests at the pool area on a Saturday night. In an earlier blog on Talkabout, Stacy Trevenon of the Review asks, "What about walking by (Mac Dutra Park) with purpose, looking the men in the eye as you pass, nodding in a civil manner, perhaps murmuring a 'hi' or an 'hola,' and continuing about your business? What about simple and courteous acknowledgement of these fellow human beings? "What effect might that have on introducing neighbors, amalgamating the community, promoting knowledge and understanding, abolishing myths, strengthening the Coastside?" We've always felt the welcoming warm heart of the Half Moon Bay community and an attitude like Tevenon's when visiting before, and I know that our most recent experience isn't generally indicative of your wonderful community. We certainly will be back. I asked for a letter of apology from the front desk manager. No response. Instead, the hotel offered us the same compensation that they offer a guest who stays in a room with a broken fireplace - a free night's stay. No thanks. Maybe next time we'll stay down the road and save a buck, and maybe save face too. Or maybe we'll just skip the swank altogether and stay a little closer to Mac Dutra Park. • Nicole Conti is a San Ramon resident and a sales manager for a large bank. |