HI everyone!

It’s been a long time, I know. I share with you today a personal experience of mine that I felt was necessary to speak on. It took me a good while to put my feelings down on paper and I still think I haven’t covered it all, but here I go…

 I think for most, being a New Yorker automatically makes you a hustler - I mean it is a dog eat dog world out there but despite that, I speak for those coming from immigrant parents who came here with no clue on how to survive. Those who worked countless dead-end jobs just to put food on the table - this kind of upbringing programs you as a child to never stop that grind. I come from a hard-working family. I watched my mother work over nights, so getting ready for preschool was usually my father’s job. Flashback... I’m surprised I still have a head of hair; lol but I can’t knock him, my braids were always perfect... And then I watched my father work double shifts so that meant never really having a parent for field trips. I admired their hunger for success, so it was only natural for me to soak it all in and understand that, we get the job done. My first gig was at the age of 16. I worked as a retail specialist at Aeropostale in Times Square, making $8.50 an hour & holy shit did I think I was rolling with ballers with that kind of money... How times have changed. I bounced around between different retail stores, I worked off the book jobs but the thing I did not do, was waitressing… I would suck, let’s be honest. It wasn’t until I got lucky with my first real ‘adult’ job working as a front desk agent at a downtown hotel. Now that’s rolling with the big ballers. I just pretended to be one. I had the time of my life working in the hotel industry - what a rush! The adrenaline literally never stops pumping. I gained about three years of experience working at various hotels throw in a few more part time gigs in between college semesters and then I decided to take my customer service skills to a new world – the aesthetics world. 

Now, once again I stumbled upon this field out of pure luck. I rocked my interview; I got the job and that was that. I worked various locations all pertaining to medical/cosmetic specialties. I have worked with a number of prestigious doctors, clients, even celebrities - it was the job most girls at the age of twenty want. Being in the city, in one of the most expensive neighborhoods, fetching tea and coffee for people who possess purses worth more than your years’ salary... no shade, I’m all for it! It was a dream to be getting this kind of experience. I worked my way up. I worked the desk, I answered phones, emails, I did the grunt work of packing and restocking, I assisted on medical procedures & I was even able to gain in room videography experience by documenting laser and body contouring procedures! What a world we live in! I brushed up on my social media skills and I took in whatever knowledge I possibly could - the opportunity will always be a grateful one.

To the not so nice part….

A brief background story on me first - I come from a bi-racial family. My father is from South America, Guyana, and he came to the USA at the age of ten. He is the youngest brother of nine siblings. My mother, although born and raised right here in Queens, NY - Astoria to be exact, she is the daughter of an Italian WWII Veteran & an Irish mother.

My father, a minority is an IBEW Local #3 Electrician, who married my mother, a NYC para professional who is someone that grew up with barely anything but is considered by the public eye, privileged due to the simple fact that she is white – they have been married for 32 years breaking many cultural statistics.

As I am sure you all know, being any bit of color only means one thing - you’re different, aka you’re not welcomed.

I endured quite a few incidents of discrimination throughout my four years working within the aesthetic industry. You get the common glares, the misery of some old aged people and then the ones who live under a rock and so badly want to make America great again, all with the same ideology... a brown-skinned woman should not be in their territory & she definitely can not look the part, matter of fact do the part better than they can.

I realized I was a force to be reckoned with when the sight of me made the eyes sore of the woman I will never forget. Let’s call her... Ethel. It started out with a few nasty phone calls. I mean, there is only so much to determine over the phone - no skin colors, no visuals, just a voice - so I figured her ignorance was personal. Plus, I am pleasantly kind, lol. I took down all her demands & scheduled her in bright and early for a Wednesday morning. 

Wednesday came around faster than I thought and before I knew it, there I was facing Ethel.

She came in quite… what’s the opposite of pleasant?

Ethel seemed a bit shocked to see who was on the other side of the phone.

“You are who I was speaking with? Hmph... well you do seem quite different in person.”

What does that even mean….

I checked her in. She questioned our trust with her personal information, and I assured her everything within our office was secured. I didn’t realize it wasn’t our trust she was concerned about, it was mine, when my colleague who was a Caucasian, red headed cutie came back from break and was asked by Ethel –

“Are you the supervisor... these things should be monitored.”

I was taken aback. I questioned if my professionalism was off and I instantly went timid.

It didn’t just end there – after 45 minutes, two coffees and three waters that were extremely distasteful

*rolls eyes*

Cruella, I mean Ethel was back for check out.

I noticed her eyes wander from my head to my toes, a few times. I was in a dark green, hip hugging, knee length dress. At the time I was 20. My skin was tanned, my hair was long, I was in my prime.

After two disapprovals on price, I was finally able to collect payment, schedule her followup & be left with a remark that at first, if I am being honest – made me feel less of a person.

“Just so you know, you should wear something a bit less on the promiscuous side.  You of all people should be grateful that you are here, always look the part.”

News flash Ms. Ethel - I do & did just that – and I look damn good doing it.

I didn’t say much – I held my composure, I kindly smiled and told her to have the best day she could have, because she so desperately needed it. I was lucky enough to be working for employers at the time who did not take discrimination lightly. The issue was addressed, discussed and I was made comfortable in every way possible just by simply knowing I had a team to back me up – Kudos to them, something I will never forget!

I couldn’t believe it, but then I also could believe it..

I remember growing up and feeling like I had to stick a photo of my mother to my forehead just to prove a point. To feel wanted because the melanin in my skin just wasn’t enough. I always knew I was powerful, but it was only until then I realized how much power I truly held by embracing my color. My identity. My roots. 

Well, my story gets a bit juicier – 

Different location. Different employer. Different clientele. 

This time, I didn’t get the same respect from my employer as I did the last.. 

At first, I didn’t realize it had anything to do with my cultural background. I took it as a sign of responsibility... my employer was a one woman show who so desperately needed the extra hands... how can you say no to your employer? She was a young, hip start-up who I thought meant well by her employees. It started with just some extra paperwork, then it became my sole responsibility to open and close the office, by myself if I may add, I had no other coworkers! On top of taking the shit of early morning clients who were fed up that their practitioner was once again 30 minutes late.. and somehow clients found that to be my fault! I felt like I was the mule of the team. The laughingstock to everyone behind closed doors because when my employer snapped, I jumped - doing things out of my title, comfort zone and overworking myself for people who didn’t even respect me as a person.

My first incident went like this –

“My appointment was for 9 AM. I had a horrible Uber ride just to get here on time because your kind of people don’t know how to drive and yet I still have to wait. I prefer if you not touch me.”

In regard to applying some numbing cream to her already silicone filled face….

Truth hurts.. I looked at her completely stunned & realized that her anger must have been coming from her poorly done fake tan..

You hate my people, yet want to look the exact same color as us? Confusing, I know.

Was my boss just a busybody who really did need help keeping track of her own time or was she just abusing her power over me? Not only was my pay not matching my numerous job descriptions, but the response I received after addressing the discrimination going on in her office, was when I realized I was being treated as a minority, by my own people.  I waited a few months, scratch that almost a year. I busted my ass. I revamped and taught myself the entire office, and I continued to allow clientele to slander me with words, all while still killing it.

 Now, how does one professionally handle someone as ignorant as that? You just can’t. Yet there I was, doing just that – respecting someone who not only misjudged me but did not respect me or my culture.

What was I to do? I needed the money. I needed a job. I was still in school and in that moment, I thought the right decision was to ignore the belittling going on around me and to continue to just do my job. I should have known better, but I’m glad I do now.

It wasn’t just a job; it was my entire life. My boss & I were more friends (in her perspective) than we were employee/employer. I use the term friend very loosely because what I mean by that is – my boss and my clients felt extremely comfortable to speak to me as if we were just that.. friends. In ways, I would never allow anyone else to. I was being ridiculed, like a weak link to prey on. They knew business of mine that was never discussed by me, they even felt entitled to sharing opinions about me to my face based on pure assumptions that were being stated behind closed doors, by none the less – my boss.

Why were they comfortable enough to do so?

Because of the lack of respect, professionalism and decency my employer failed to have. Not only was I told to remain courteous and professional at all times, I was advised to ignore the discrimination and to not take things so personal. My boss did not care about my serious concerns, actually, she didn’t care about anyone but herself and her money, at least that was the impression I was left with when she did nothing to diffuse the situation –

“Ignore her, she’s going through a divorce from a cheating husband.” – 

something personal…

Ah yes, justify a racist with an excuse that has nothing to do with me, my skin color or my race. I could have sworn she said, nothing personal. 

That’s when I finally understood that we were not a team.

It was me against the wealthy Upper East Side.

Another client of ours complimented me in a very unflattering way.

“You don’t get work done here right? Your brown skin doesn’t need anything – no product should be wasted on your skin.”

Heavy emphasis on the brown skin part.

I forgot to mention, this was after I was yelled at by the same client who wanted to split her bill into six payments, when my system only allowed for two.

“Do you not understand English? I don’t get why your people can never do their job.”

Again, with the, my people crap. 

Let me just say this –

My people, are human beings.

My people are your people.

I am no different than anyone else based on the color of my hair, skin, eyes, or toes.



My boss stood there – with a blank stare in her eyes. I knew, she knew, we all knew what had just happened and yet... she made her money, her client walked away with no repercussions for her actions and I was once again the target of discrimination.

I quit.

Just like that.

I was taught better than what I was portraying, and I knew if I didn’t make a stance, no one else would.

 I am the daughter of an immigrant. I am the daughter of a bi-racial family who raised their children to show respect and kindness to all. I come from a family who had nothing and turned it into everything. I’d be damned if I was gunna let those of privilege take that away from me.

Growing up, what bothered me most as a bi-racial child was that Caucasian people only ever saw my exterior. I was never asked about my background; it was always just assumed that I was Indian. I was either too brown for my white side or too white for my brown side. I was never included by either groups or when I was, I was mocked for lacking traits the others that weren’t mixed, possessed. My mother and father have both been prejudiced many times for marrying outside of their culture and yet there we were, embracing the culturally diverse life we have been blessed with, despite all the things those around us may have thought.

I continue to carry these teachings with me and I was never ashamed of where I come from nor will I ever be.

I wanted to share these experiences with all of you because I need to make it known to you, business owners, employers and anyone that works within a team – that ignoring toxic behavior and discrimination in the workplace is forcing your best employees to quit & quite frankly,  I've come to realize it’s for the better, for us anyway because those same people who lack the importance of cultural diversity, do not deserve our hard work, dedication, and power.

It should never be about the money. You should never belittle yourself for the sake of a paycheck. I know for a lot of people, quitting a 9-5 that barely pays the bills is impossible – but you’re wrong. There is always something better waiting out there for you – go ahead and get what is rightfully yours.

Workplace discrimination is illegal, yet it persists. We are a few months away from 2020, a whole new generation.

Will this ever change?

Will we become more acceptive of those around us and respect the worlds cultural differences? 

My answer? Yes. With continued awareness.

I know, you can’t just change a persons’ ignorance, (I mean, look at who our president is, sheesh..) but you can change the power and the rights they think they have – by not giving it to them to begin with.

Always stand your ground!

You have a right to be respected, a right to be you in all forms & a right to end the stigma of white supremacy. 

Respect yourself enough to walk away from businesses that do not respect you. It’s time we stop building up companies who so badly want to knock us down. 

Speak to your employer – make them aware & if they are the ones who are discriminating against you -

File complaints.

Share your story.

Spread awareness.

I always knew, if someone could be so judgmental just by the color of my skin, they just secretly admired what I was gifted with.

To those of you who go through this and much worse every day -

I am so sorry. I am here for you & I want you to know you are not alone. 

I want you to always remember that this is a safe place.

For anyone that was in a similar situation, share your story, embrace your power.

& for anyone who is currently dealing with this, share your story, rise above, take your power back & let us all work together to end racial bigotry.

Thank you for reading my story.

Much love to you all – 

Krystle Carrissa