In the city, I see a little bit of everything. On the subway, very few people look like me, and even when they do, I’m sometimes surprised to overhear them speaking another language. I love the diversity, but I’m also bothered by the fact that I notice it.
In one urban area near the border, I found myself surrounded by people from many different backgrounds. Mexican, Asian, and Polynesian cultures had woven together to create a richness I don’t often experience. What surprised me the most wasn’t the diversity itself. It was how welcomed I felt, even though I was clearly in the minority.
In another metropolitan area across the country, I stood next to a distinguished-looking middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and professional clothing. His fingernails were painted orange, and his make …