Race relations

I spoke to Aila on the phone yesterday. Here's how it went:

A-L: Hi Aila, how are you?

Aila: Hi. Good. I'm colouring.

A-L: What are you colouring?

Aila: Dora.

And then for some reason I asked her: What colour are you colouring Dora?

Aila: Well, Anna-Lisa, I'm colouring her brown, but that doesn't mean she's not an American citizen. And contrary to popular ignorance, all 'brown' Spanish-speaking Americans are not Mexican. They might be Cuban, or Honduran, or Salvadorean, or Nicaraguan, or Guatamalan, or from (and she said this in the voice of the guy who announces the Miss Universe pageant contestants) Puerto Rico.

A-L: Light brown or dark brown?

Aila: I'm colouring Dora medium brown.

A-L: Is Dora from Puerrrrrrrrtttttttto Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiicccoooo?

Aila: I have no idea. By the way, the new mayor of L.A. is Latino. I signed up to work on his campaign, but my mom wouldn't let me drive to L.A. alone.

A-L: You say he's Latino. Don't you mean Mexican?

Aila: He's American, but I'm not sure where his parents are from. He's brown, if that's what you're asking.

A-L: Yeah. So, do you think you'll be able to get some cool college scholarships because you're so frickin' cute . . . I mean, because you're half-brown and half-Finnish.

Aila: I'm actually not half-Finnish. My mom is half-Finnish, so I'm just a quarter Finnish. But I am half-Mexican, one-sixteenth Swedish, a quarter Finnish and the rest is Mid-western, I think.

A-L: Do you know what you want to major in?

Aila: Look, I'm 24 months old, I have a Dora picture to colour, and you've already taken up too much of my Sunday. Do you want to talk to my mom?

A-L: Yeah.

Maria: Hi. What did you and Aila talk about?

A-L: Oh, all I heard was 'Dora' and 'colouring' and 'baby'.

Maria: Aila is talking more and more every day.

You're tellin' me.