You and your family arrive at Joann’s and begin walking through the isles filled with fabrics of all kinds of textures and colors. You’re looking for a specific crimson red satin fabric and are elated to find the exact color you were looking for, for your dance recital costume. You and your family excitedly walk to the empty line and you’re first, could this day get any better? You wait for the cashier to call you, as you see his mouth open you take a step forward, but are halted by the words that escape his lips. He calls to a woman who has just arrived to your left and had just begun looking at the jewelry. He asks her “Ma’am are you ready to pay?” My family and I stood there like ghosts lost in between worlds and wondered “Had he not seen us?” “Are we in the right line?” The sign next to us says “Line begins here.” The woman responds “Oh no sir I’m still shopping.” The man takes a second and turns to us and says “Next.” We walked over to the counter while wondering why the woman, not in line, was called instead of you and your family. As he took the fabric from my mother's hands to ring it up, he seemed hesitant to touch the fabric previously touched by our melanin-filled skin. As he’s ringing us up my mother turns and says something to my father in Spanish. This seemed normal to me, but to the man, it seemed like pure profanity came out of my mother's mouth. He grew a repulsed look on his face and snickered a las bellas palabras de mi cultura (at the beautiful words of my culture). We paid, grabbed our fabric, and as we exited the store my mother turned to me and said “We are never coming back here.” This is the first time you have ever felt this way and you never want to feel it again.