Discussion.2
O R I G I N A L P A P E R
Ethnoracial Gap in Clinical Practice with Latinos
Frank F. Montalvo
Published online: 8 November 2009
� Springer Science+Business Media, LLC 2009
Abstract People of color drop out of mental health
treatment after the first session significantly more often
than others. Social workers unfamiliar with the importance
of race and ethnicity in the lives of Latinos can contribute
to an ethnoracial gap in clinical practice. Implicit racial
bias is presented as a key element contributing to the gap.
The origin of phenotypes in Mexico and Puerto Rico pre-
pared Latinos to cope with discrimination and colorism in
United States. The influence of skin color on life chances,
the acculturation–assimilation process, and psychological
well-being are analyzed to identify problems in social
adaptation and integration into American society. The
critical incident interview is introduced to aid clinicians to
assess key events in client’s experience with race and
ethnicity. Examples of critical incidents are provided. The
author offers training goals to reduce practitioners’ implicit
racial bias and improve their estimates of phenotype. Five
recommendation are made to improve practice with Lati-
nos concerning psychosocial problems related to
phenotype.
Keywords Latinos � Phenotype discrimination � Implicit skin color bias � Colorism in family � Psychosocial adjustment � Acculturation–assimilation � Clinical practice � Training � Research
Introduction
Over 30 years ago practitioners in the United States
learned that in a large state sample, 50% of minority
patients, including Latinos, withdrew from mental health
treatment after the first interview (Sue and Sue 1977).
Ethnicity was a stronger predictor of termination than
education, income, language, and variety of services
received. A number of suspicious factors were offered to
account for the discrepancy, to include different beliefs
about what constituted mental illness, treatment, and
recovery. The prime suspect at the time remained con-
trasting lifestyles due to poor cultural fit between profes-
sionals and patients that were unique to each and emerged
during initial face-to-face contact. Cultural awareness
training began to address the gap in social work practice,
for example Montalvo et al. (1981), Green (1982), Ho
(1991), Aponte (1995), Kelley (1995), and Thornton and
Garrett (1995). Much of the training focused on Latinos’
traditional values, such as respect, dignity, interdepen-
dency, interactive style, and centrality of family and reli-
gion. Yet, some empirical evidence questioned whether
cultural match between therapist and client improved
treatment outcomes (Sue 1988). More recently, half of the
Latino clients still failed to return after the first session
(Fraga et al. 2004) (Comparison among studies is only
suggested, because research protocols differed).
I begin this review with some definitions of terms. I then
examine the impact of the ethnoracial gap on practice and
the source of implicit racial bias that affect the treatment of
Latino clients. My goal is to lay the groundwork for
improving the knowledge base, practice, and training of
non-Latino clinicians. Toward that end, the article: (a)
traces the role played by social and historical events in
creating skin color preference and shaping attitudes and
F. F. Montalvo
Professor Emeritus, Worden School of Social Service, Our Lady
of the Lake University of San Antonio, San Antonio, TX, USA
F. F. Montalvo (&) 3523 Green Springs Drive, San Antonio, TX 78247, USA
e-mail: ffmont@yahoo.com
123
Clin Soc Work J (2009) 37:277–286
DOI 10.1007/s10615-009-0241-1
relationships in Latino communities; (b) describes the
influence of phenotype on life chances, acculturation, and
psychological well-being to provide deeper understanding
of Latinos’ ethnic and racial reality; (c) presents an inter-
viewing technique to help practitioners identify key events
in the development of the client’s unique cultural and
ethnoracial identity; and (d) outlines two important training
goals for reducing clinicians’ implicit racial bias and
improving accuracy in estimating skin tone. Examples
from real-world events and experiences are cited through-
out. I conclude with five recommendations that will result
in more effective practice with Latinos.
Latino Clients, Phenotyping, and Colorism:
Some Definitions
This presentation drew primarily from research on the
Mexican–American and Puerto Rican experiences in the
United States. Mexican–Americans are the only indigenous
Latino population of some 20 groups from Latin America.
Puerto Ricans are second in size and share the native dis-
tinction by extension of their initial colonial and current
commonwealth status that grants them citizenship at birth.
The former emigrated from Mexico and the latter migrated
from Puerto Rico to this country. Both have similar His-
panic cultural roots and lineage, but their colonial history
and racial-cultural mix differed. Mexicans drew heavily
from Amerindian heritage in Mexico and American
southwest and Puerto Ricans tapped into African ancestry
in the Spanish-speaking Caribbean and urban experience in
United States. Terms like Chicano, Mexican–American,
Latino, and Hispanic, as with African American, black, and
Negro, reflect their time and use by the authors cited in this
article.
Skin color and phenotype are used interchangeably,
although the former is more common in the literature and
defines race as a social category. Phenotype includes other
physical features, such as hair color and texture, nose shape
and breadth, and shape and fullness of lips that encompass
both saliency of skin color and complex notions of race
held by the public, including Latinos. Case in point: The
five-by-five scale employed by Arce et al. (1987) used
degree of Indian and European appearance as well as
Chicanos’ skin tones from very light to very dark. Their
distribution of observed phenotypes was 26% Light Euro-
pean, 45% Intermediate, and 28% Dark Indian. Phenotype
distributions, however, vary by ethnoracial group.
I refer to phenotyping as the act of implementing social
policies that favored European features and light skin as
standards for judging physical appearance, and actions that
marked people for favorable or unfavorable treatment
based on skin color. The phenomenon is old; labeling it is
new. In response, minority groups used phenotype
standards in family socialization as a survival tool where
children were socialized to acknowledge skin color pref-
erence as a reality in their lives. The term colorism is
limited to this internalized form of bias, which developed a
life of its own and acted without the need for external,
institutional prompting. Colorism was familiar to African
American discourse, but was cited infrequently in the lit-
erature about Latinos. A distinction is made between
phenotyping and colorism to clarify their relationship and
focus on the practitioner’s role. For example, some reacted
to phenotyping in daily life as victims who may need help,
but as agents of colorism they became complicit in dis-
criminating against other Latinos and family members that
can call for more direct intervention.
The Impact of the Ethnoracial Gap on Practice
Making the case for the need to improve the relationship
between Latino clients and social workers, Longres (1991)
believed that much of the misunderstanding was related to
different world views that were complicated by status
inequalities and vestiges of prejudice and systematic dis-
crimination. Pizarro and Vera (2001) and Arredondo and
Toporek (2006) concluded that mental health counselors
were usually unfamiliar with Latinos’ concern over their
racial admixture. Abreu (1999) found race to be a signifi-
cant source of stereotyping and estrangement that occurred
during the first session with African Americans about
which white clinicians seemed oblivious. Latinos dropped
out of treatment when they sensed psychiatrists ignored
‘‘the implications of skin color on life experiences and
therefore cannot enter into patient’s frame of reference’’
(Atdjian and Vega 2005, p. 1602). Worker-client alienation
was apparent in countries with deep ethnic and sociopo-
litical divisions that transcend culture. For example, social
work training on cultural differences was insufficient to
overcome Israeli students’ admitted fear and antipathy
toward Palestinians during internships (Baum 2007). Fac-
ulty recognized that political history created social distance
that required specific address in training.
Preparing for cross-cultural practice is essential, but
bridging the gap between professional and client improves
when practitioners also see the world from the client’s
ethnoracial point of view. Skin color discrimination and its
manifestation in the ethnic family and community as col-
orism distinguished the life experiences of Latinos from
other Americans. Phenotype has been a constant in their
lives and a source of ambiguity and ambivalence (Mont-
alvo 1987). It was seldom considered in training and field
instruction nor reported in studies of acculturation (Berry
2005). Consequently, most clinicians have but passing
knowledge of Latinos’ experience with race and ethnicity,
278 Clin Soc Work J (2009) 37:277–286
123
which may have been much less forgiving in treatment
relationships than missing cultural cues.
The source of intergroup tensions was embedded in the
culture and social fabric and took shape in members’
socialization. Membership in white, middle-class, English-
speaking groups tended to be voluntary, exclusive, and
played a positive and symbolic role in their lives at little
social cost (Waters 1990). White, European immigrants
pointed with pride to having suffered prejudice, success-
fully assimilated, and played honored roles in ‘‘the
American immigration story.’’ Yet, they failed to notice
how easily they could shed (or trace) their ethnic origins.
Whiteness was a cherished attribute in the national culture
and tended to be seen as normative. As an assumed stan-
dard, it shielded many from being conscious of their race
and from an awareness of the role skin color played in their
lives. It allowed them to profess the virtues of being ‘‘color
blind’’ as they overlooked skin color as an issue that could
have adverse effects on others. On an interpersonal level,
evidence pointed to those who tried hardest to be color
blind seemed most uncomfortable during interracial con-
tacts and appeared to be the least friendly (Kawakami et al.
2009).
Growing up in an environment that valued one’s group
over others buttressed self-esteem with a sense of entitle-
ment. Attitudes and beliefs toward visible minority groups
were formed before children could rationally understand.
They became deeply held biases, which were intuitive and
impervious to challenge and change in everyday life.
Ingrained in ongoing perceptions, they often contradicted
the person’s own beliefs and egalitarian convictions and
festered as unrecognized, unresolved stress. The influence
of bias was minimized: Slips of the tongue, stereotypes,
ethnic jokes, racially tinged cartoons, profiling, and
arresting citizens who ‘‘look illegal’’ were declared to be
innocent, inadvertent, or justifiable acts. The disdain was
arrogant, the effects racist. Insults were felt deeply among
those who were uncertain about their ethnic group’s status
and agonized over whether slights were due to bigotry or
ignorance. By contrast, not being bothered every day with
consequences of ethnic and racial affiliation was a psychic
benefit derived from privilege.
The disparity between groups created misunderstanding
about racial matters each group regarded as salient: White
members in society focused on monitoring sometime fla-
grant acts of discrimination that threatened violence, and
less so on everyday taunts and ambiguous cues that
diminished self-worth (Salvatore and Shelton 2007). Even
racial epithets aimed to provoke them had little effect.
Trivializing slights that concern Latinos became with time
polarized opinions that widened the gap concerning social
justice (racial profiling and capital punishment) and public
policies (affirmative action and immigration).
Society’s dilemmas were also played out in the thera-
peutic setting. Practitioners have been taken aback by the
depth and intensity of Latino reaction to discrimination and
public’s insensitivity when they are unfamiliar with the
ethnoracial experience. They often attributed minority
protestations to hypersensitivity rather than to pent-up
frustration fixed in life histories. Some clinicians stub-
bornly held that race is peripheral to personality theories
and irrelevant to presenting problems. They were unaware
of changes in their demeanor when working with light and
dark-skinned clients and tended not to notice when feelings
that entered the relationship had racial overtones. They
insisted good practice is in itself culture-free and race
neutral, and said they were unconcerned about the color of
the client’s skin. The color-blind approach to practice led
clinicians to misjudge race as unimportant in the devel-
opment of client problems (Ridley 1995). In contrast, other
practitioners regarded race as too sensitive a subject to be
raised before a working relationship was well established
(Cardemil and Battle 2003). As a consequence, they talked
past clients who sought help with painful concerns over
how they looked. Partial skill, collective guilt, or over-
identification also undermined treatment of Latino clients
when practitioners were quick to attribute race as the
source of the problem and minimized the client’s contri-
bution to complaints and symptom etiology.
The Role of Social and Historical Events
Latino phenotypes did not originate in the United States.
The caste system in colonial Mexico was the subject of
paintings that depicted families’ social status in dress,
occupations, lifestyles, personal habits, and character
traits (Gárcia Saiz 1989). Las castas paintings were
shipped to Europe to provide a first glimpse of inhabitants
from the Americas. Indians were stereotyped as uncivi-
lized and passive, Africans as violent and lazy. Indians
could join members of the white caste through union with
Spaniards within three generations through a process that
prized European bloodline and was referred to as blan-
queamiento (whitening). Offspring of Spanish–African
unions could only revert to another African caste; even
after five generations some castes were labeled ‘‘throw
backs’’ (torna atras). Castes were a prominent feature of
colonial life and so widespread that they indicate
exploitation and conflict were due not to personal distaste
or natural antipathy, but to gaining economic advantage
and imposing social control over indigenous populations.
Slavery and castes were abolished in Mexico at the turn
of the nineteenth century. Mixed feelings linger as afro-
mexicanos are alternately obscured and celebrated as
Mexico’s third root.
Clin Soc Work J (2009) 37:277–286 279
123
A legacy of colonial preference for Spanish culture,
physical appearance, and language over Indian and African
heritage are layered within culture and semantic tradition
throughout Latin America. Colorism is at work when the
colonial myth of Spanish (white) superiority continues to
undermine Latinos’ self-regard, as when whitening results
in ‘‘improving the race’’ (mejorando la raza); when teasing
a fair-skinned Mexican–American with the label, huero/a,
is tinged with envy; when a misbehaving daughter is
admonished, ‘‘Stop acting like a black woman’’; and con-
tinues with the demeaning catch phrase, pelo malo (bad
hair), a Caribbean Latino reference to African hair texture
being coarse and unattractive. In defense, those who boast
having only Spanish blood are accused of hiding dark-
skinned relatives when they are asked, rhetorically, ‘‘And
your grandmother, where is she?’’
The remarks reflect the colonial past. Yet, pejorative
reference to race and skin color conflict with Latinos’ deep
respect for the dignity and worth of the individual
regardless of social status or bloodline. Sereno (1946)
referred to ‘‘cryptomelanism’’ as the self-deception among
Puerto Ricans involved in ‘‘hiding the color problem within
the self’’ (p. 265). He contended that as an outgrowth of
slavery, it was precisely the intensity of adhering to the
value of respeto that barred remnants of racial inequality
from public dialog and avoided racial polarization. This
accommodation, however, was undermined by persistent
deference to light-skinned Latinos in daily life and ideal-
ized claims of social harmony that resulted in ‘‘the pre-
judice of having no prejudice in Puerto Rico’’ (Betances
1972). Draining affect from disparagements allowed values
in conflict to be compartmentalized: By forcing the term
pelo malo out from its comfortable niche in the Spanish
language into English, the latent contradiction is exposed
in the ironic apology, ‘‘I didn’t mean it the way it soun-
ded.’’ It is important, then, for practitioners to understand
the customs and folklore about Indian ancestry, African
origin, and Spanish–European heritage as they take shape
in families and as ground for mainstream ethnocentric
attitudes to take hold in the United States.
The Influence of Phenotype
Life Chances
Skin color prejudice is more explicit in the United States.
Hunter (2007), and Montalvo and Codina (2001) for Lati-
nos, reviewed the extensive literature on phenotype’s effect
on life-chance goals related to class and status, such as
income, education, health, and prestige. An example of
early, groundbreaking studies includes relating skin color
to social class in a study of patients with diabetes
(Relethford et al. 1983). It revealed that Mexican Ameri-
cans’ skin tone became progressively lighter in San
Antonio, Texas, as they moved from low-income barrios
through transitional neighborhoods to affluent suburbs.
Incidence of diabetes decreases with rise in social class and
was associated with family history, diet, and lifestyle.
Massey and Mullen (1984) reported skin color was related
to residential segregation among Hispanics, which limits
contacts and shared experiences in the community. Arce
et al. (1987) found dark Chicanos had less education and
income and cited more incidents of discrimination than
lighter cohorts. Moreover, skin color discrimination in the
United States is more pervasive than previously thought:
Hersch’s (2007) survey of immigrants from foreign coun-
tries found those with light skin earned 15% more income
than darker newcomers.
Acculturation, Assimilation, and Skin Color
Skin color difference is a pivotal factor in Latinos’ accul-
turation and assimilation into American society. The
melting pot was a turn-of-the-century metaphor for the way
homogeneous societies develop by melding the cultures of
Europeans and Americans into a new national identity.
Instead, standard practice had immigrants learning the
American way as their foreign manners and languages
melted away. The process was called Anglo conformity by
Gordon (1964) in his classic work, Assimilation in Amer-
ican Life: The Role of Race, Religion and National Origin.
The melting pot metaphor seems dated, but Anglo con-
formity retains its mythic power to influence nativistic
attitudes and immigration policy.
Individual acculturation is a complex cognitive, psy-
chological, and sociocultural process when asymmetrical
relationships exist between groups in society (Anderson
1991). Race and ethnicity intersect in Latino neighbor-
hoods and emerge as construct ethnoracial realities that
resulted from society’s attitude towards skin color and
minority status. The communities usually functioned
within a numerically larger collective with distinct resi-
dential boundaries and ethnic markers that protected as
well as isolated members. Ideal bicultural integration
depended largely on one’s ability to learn the language,
profess loyalty, and internalize values of the prevailing
culture while retaining local support, native language,
religion, values, and ethnic persona as the core cultural
identity. It defined the elusive requirements for cultural
pluralism. Children formed nascent Latino-American
identities as they learned interdependence and placed the
needs of the tightly knit family ahead of their own while in
the process they negotiated values of independence and
rugged individualism with mainstream members. Latinos
adhered foremost to their cultural identity, and rejected
280 Clin Soc Work J (2009) 37:277–286
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race as a threat to their ethnic-group consciousness and
capacity to determine their own destiny. They spurned skin
color distinctions in families.
Latinos strove to participate in mainstream society to
gain needed occupational skills even as the host culture
seemed unfamiliar and contacts inhospitable. Time in
country did not necessarily improve integration. Mental
disorder was linked to longer lengths of stay for Latinos in
the stark conclusion in the summary of a 2001 report on
Mental Health: Race, Culture, and Ethnicity by the US
Surgeon General:
The most striking findings from the set of adult epi-
demiological studies using diagnostic measures is
that Mexican immigrants, Mexican immigrants with
less than 13 years in the United States, or Puerto
Ricans who resided on the island of Puerto Rico had
lower prevalence rates of depression and other dis-
orders than [immigrants with more than 13 years in
the United States and Puerto Ricans living there].
This consistent result across independent investiga-
tors, different sites, and two Latino subgroups… suggests that factors associated with living in the
United States are related to increased risk for mental
disorders [Emphasis added].
Assimilation, as in people’s merging or fitting in, is
usually equated with acculturation, but is limited here to
Gordon’s (1964) sense of structural, marital, and ‘‘recep-
tional’’ assimilation. It resulted from their acceptance by
society’s primary groups and inclusion in institutions based
on incorporating of values and beliefs of the dominant
culture. It completed the paradigm: Accultura-
tion ? Assimilation = Integration. Assimilation was vig-
orously defended as an ideal goal and a one-way process
that was within the dominant group’s locus of control. The
premise can have dire consequences: Morandi and Risco
(2006) found lack of personal control over perceived dis-
crimination and social exclusion, society’s gate-keeping
functions, resulted in serious self-esteem loss and accul-
turative stress in a sample of mostly Cuban Americans.
Part of Latinos’ acculturation involved evaluating the
extent that society stigmatized their group as a gauge of
collective self-esteem. It tended to vary by generation and
phenotype. In the wake of their parents’ experience, second
generation dark Latinos tied self-regard to country of origin
and ethnic group as a ‘‘self-protective strategy for dealing
with stigma’’ (p. 395), and less to public opinion (Wiley
et al. 2008). Light skin subjects were more receptive to
selective external evaluations. Society’s evaluation was not
abandoned by those with dark skin. It became one side of a
dual consciousness (Du Bois 1903), which included ste-
reotypes, exclusion, and psychological conflict as they
viewed themselves through the eyes of the other, as it
occurred under Spanish rule and characteristic of the
colonial mentality (Memmi 1991). This uneven duality was
different from the selective melding of cultures in bicul-
turalism. Also, is worth noting that skin color was not part
of the generational study cited, but was introduced post hoc
to explain inconsistent patterns in Latinos’ use of collective
self-esteem.
The racial stereotypes that divided society were not lost
on ‘‘dark Europeans’’ who emigrated from Eastern and
Southern Europe at the turn of the twentieth century
(Roediger 2005). Their acculturation included avoiding
association and contact with people of color to demonstrate
they had compatible mainstream attitudes about race that
made them assimilable. The social distance between them
contributed to an ethnoracial gap expressed in sometimes
violent reactions to social policies that compensated visible
minority groups seen as being at their expense. For
example, ‘‘Busing’’ to racially integrate schools to improve
educational opportunities for some was a threat to the
lifestyle and legacy to others. The controversy was not lost
on minority groups’ efforts to acculturate.
Allen (1994, 1997) in The Invention of the White Race
saw oppression of Irish people by the English since the
fourteenth century as precursor of African American
exclusion, and argued that skin color was devised as an
ideal instrument for social control by dividing the poor into
competing groups. Irish immigrants continued to face
discrimination and hostility upon arrival in United States.
They first sided with Negroes and joined abolitionists, but
soon disengaged under intense pressure to gain popular
support for Irish resistance back home. They underwent a
remarkable and telling transformation in How the Irish
Became White (Ignatiev 1995). Offers of help have tradi-
tionally been suspect by people of color given their col-
lective history of neglect and disappointment. Mental
health service providers need to be alert to such lingering
sentiments in response to their outreach efforts.
Dark skin defined nonwhite people and limited their
economic and political participation in society. Latinos
were labeled members of a minority group mainly because
of skin color, which was in keeping with the ‘‘one-drop
rule’’ that segregated people suspected of having any trace
of nonwhite kinship. It was the opposite of whitening,
which was a process of inclusion in Latin America. It is
important to stress that assimilation can segregate and
exclude people as well as include them: Mexican Ameri-
cans with dark skin had lower levels of acculturation than
those with light skin (Vázquez et al. 1997). Mason (2004)
saw phenotype as a salient issue for dark Puerto Ricans
who actively sought to acculturate by abandoning Spanish
language and Hispanic identification and learned English,
but felt excluded because they were unable to shed the
stigma associated with being Afro-Latino. Moreover, skin
Clin Soc Work J (2009) 37:277–286 281
123
color directly challenged assimilation’s prime objective
when Latinos were asked, ‘‘How strongly do you think of
yourself as an American?’’ (Jones-Correa et al. 2006):
Some 44% of light Latinos ‘‘strongly’’ believed they were
Americans, but only 14% of those who were dark did.
Psychological Well Being
The psychological effect of phenotype discrimination and
acculturation was examined directly by Codina and
Montalvo (1994), using the same data base to study life
chances employed by Arce et al. (1987). Darker skin tone
and Indian appearance among Chicanos were related to
having more frequent episodes of reactive depression.
Using birth origin as proxy for acculturation, dark-skinned
males who were born and raised in United States felt
depressed more often than dark men who were born in
Mexico. This finding was similar to the previously cited US
Surgeon General report in 2001 on the higher rates for
mental disorders among Latinos who lived at length in the
United States. As in most gender studies, women were
overall more depressed than men and fit the phenotype-
acculturation pattern with one difference. A small subgroup
of light-skinned, Mexican-born women felt depressed more
often than darker US and Mexican-born cohorts. Informal,
post-study inquiry indicated that as immigrants they felt
discriminated against for the first time, which contrasted
sharply with their social status in Mexico. They did not
tend to live in communities with high ethnic density, which
was consistent with studies of Latino residential segrega-
tion (Massey and Mullen 1984) and distribution of skin
color reported by Relethford et al. (1983) in San Antonio,
Texas.
Latinos publicly denied that phenotype matters to keep
families and communities together (Arce 1981). Skin color
preference, however, has been a poorly kept secret in fam-
ilies: Relatives are relieved when newborn’s skin color is
light, and not if dark, and when they alienate siblings with
the taunt that they ‘‘must have been adopted’’ because of
their skin tone. Use of dark skin as an epithet and distorted
perceptions of skin color were common in Latino life. Berne
(1959) described in 1950 the case of a ‘‘Spanish’’ woman
with severe depression and distorted self-image that were
caused by an undercurrent of sly innuendoes about her
supposed dark skin. The irony was that her skin tone was as
light as her three children’s, whom the family adored.
They know society prefers light skin, although possess-
ing it is not without problems in and out of the ethnic
community. Some could be too light. A light-skinned
Mexican American strove to overcome being scoffed at by
peers as a heuro, a remark meant to embarrass him. More
than one fair Latina has been confronted with faint praise,
‘‘But you’re not like them.’’ One resisted being cajoled into
rejecting ethnic peers and denying her Hispanic heritage,
because she did not fit the public’s image of an authentic
Latin. Many were not light enough despite their efforts. A
Puerto Rican executive admitted he was dimly aware while
growing up that his preferred skin shade (trigueño, the color
of wheat) was politely accepted by friends as lighter than it
really was. Later, he was concerned that his skin color might
interfere with business. Phenotype preferences were evident
in a study by Darity and Boza (2004), who compared racial
self-identification by Latino subjects with researchers’
observation of skin color in a northeast and midwest sam-
ple. Almost 62% of the sample self-identified as white, yet
47% were observed to have light skin by researchers, a
difference of 15%. A scant 2% self-identified as black,
while some 17% were observed to have dark skin. No light-
skinned subject chose black as a racial identification.
An Interview Technique to Improve Assessments
Social workers should consider the phenotype patterns and
trends reviewed in this article, but also guard against pre-
conceptions that hamper discovering specific profiles of
acculturation and ethnoracial identity clients create for
themselves, and are still evolving. Accordingly, practice
competencies should include extensive knowledge of eth-
noracial socialization and institutional factors affecting it,
and the ability to assess the client’s acculturation experi-
ence as it affected current psychosocial functioning.
Effective casework begins with training practitioners to
explore with empathy and skill significant events occurring
in client lives regarding skin color. In this vein, the critical
incident interview was developed to elicit such information
(Montalvo 1999). The technique enables practitioners to
help clients recall specific incidents and affect-laden
interpersonal events in their lives, both positive and neg-
ative, that made them aware of being culturally, ethnically,
or racially unique. Note is made of the lasting effect on
ethnoracial identity development. Therapeutic intervention
was not its purpose, although life narratives sometimes
generated unanticipated connections between emotionally
charged events that respondents found moving. They also
spoke of incidents experienced vicariously that were life
changing. For example, an elderly Latina became critically
conscious of her ethnicity, rampant discrimination, and
empowerment as a child when she heard that the Anglo
mayor of her town publicly apologized to a Chicano
member of a nearby city council who loudly protested
being barred from a local fairground because he was
‘‘Mexican.’’
Some 500 interviews were collected over a 10-year
period between 1991 and 2001 from two interviews con-
ducted by every student during courses on practice with
282 Clin Soc Work J (2009) 37:277–286
123
minority clients and psychology of bicultural environ-
ments. The training interviews varied in quality and con-
tent: some used guides, others were open ended; some
shared phenotype scales with participants, others kept them
in mind as they conducted interviews. The purposes were
to improve observational and interpretative skills of verbal
and nonverbal behaviors and test social theory and practice
concepts that prepared them to probe clients’ interests and
concerns. Trainees noted the specific social context in
which critical events took place with the familiar who,
what, when, where, and why. Informants readily recalled
events surrounding family, religion, language, festivals,
neighborhoods, peer-groups, and special cuisine as positive
cultural touchstones in their lives. The technique also
facilitated entry into sensitive areas that informants dis-
closed, usually with intense interest, often with concerns.
Skin color was cited as a salient issue by a third of the
Latino participants in ongoing qualitative reviews con-
ducted by the author and students. Incidents involving
violent actions taken by or against Latinos were rare. The
following are brief examples of approaches to practice
involving skin color that are illustrated with excerpts from
critical incident interviews.
Colorism is a symptom of family dysfunction. It is a
difficult but appropriate subject to raise in family group
discussions as it can reveal secrets about the origins of
phenotype bias among its members that resulted in favor-
itism and in real or imagined family coalitions. In one
interview, a father spoke of being more attentive to one of
his two daughters when she grew lighter in appearance as
she matured and no longer shared his dark skin shade.
Treatment goals would include releasing members from
diffused family boundaries held together by colorism and
helping parents renew and fulfill their nurturing role.
Versed in the ethnoracial experience, clinicians can
mitigate destructive forces by helping patients place the
stigma of dark skin in its proper historical and institutional
context as due to phenotyping. The battering of life expe-
riences can sink children into their own world of fantasy
and shame that keeps them from self-approval by invidi-
ously comparing themselves to others. In one interview, an
8-year-old girl with dark skin and hair was drawing a
portrait of her family as she talked about visiting relatives
that day. There was no hint of concern until she colored
herself with blond hair to look like her favorite cousin, who
was fair complexioned and whom she drew floating angel-
like at top of the sketch because she was admired by all the
relatives. Children can be helped to navigate racial markers
and competing identities and rid themselves of stereotypes’
magic power over them when feelings about self-image are
recognized and accepted.
Clinicians should be prepared to analyze their level of
comfort discussing issues of race. Hurdling assimilation
barriers is a problem Latinos often face when they cross
ethnoracial boundaries. For example, a Latina spoke easily
of her family’s initial reluctance to accept her Anglo
spouse, yet hesitated to discuss the source of his parents’
objection to the marriage. Her narrative covered her
uniqueness as a Latina, but did not include what was
reported as her dark skin, which could be a matter of
personal concern and a source of in-laws’ disapproval. In
the end, the informant felt good about the session, but
needed time to think about the feelings that were stirred
about ‘‘things’’ she had long forgotten. The question of skin
color was not raised by the student, even though it often
underlies contentious family disputes over interethnic
unions. Others are social class and religion, which also
require scrutiny. The trainee considered the participant’s
feelings and judged that she was not ready to continue
along that line of inquiry. If clinicians are comfortable
enough discussing closely guarded secrets about race, they
suggest to the client that the subject is not taboo and can be
examined in a safe, therapeutic environment.
Two Training Goals for Effective Practice with Latinos
Racial attitudes are subtly communicated and readily
sensed by clients. Therefore, social workers should first be
mindful of their own affective response to people of color
and demonstrate a capacity to assess and change their own
normative expectations, biases, and stereotypes that distort
the clinical process. Two ways are offered here for
reducing racial bias. Second, they should be trained to
improve the objectivity and accuracy in estimating phe-
notypes with the help of scales designed for that purpose.
Reducing Racial Bias
There is an assortment of training seminars offered
throughout the country for mitigating prejudice and cor-
recting unintended consequences. To start reducing bias in
practice, a simple and widely used procedure, the implicit
association test (IAT), identifies subtle bias in people
(Greenwald et al. 1998). It found hidden judgments and
behavior to be linked to stereotyping and prejudice better
than attitudes people expressed openly. The procedure
weakened automatic preference for white Americans and
reduced subtle prejudices, including skin color, toward
stigmatized groups. The self-administered test is available
at Project Implicit website (http://implicit.harvard.edu/
implicit/). Over a million people have taken the test.
Another and more extensive training method held promise
for dispelling what is referred to as the ‘‘other-race effect,’’
that is, believing that all members of another group look
alike (Libretto et al. 2009). Also, stereotypes can be
Clin Soc Work J (2009) 37:277–286 283
123
reduced directly by training subjects to increase their
ability to delineate faces among photographs of other races,
which made it difficult to typecast other races and their
behaviors. Training covered five, 45-min sessions over a 2-
week period. Trainees learned to associate faces with
descriptions that contradicted common racial misconcep-
tions associated with the group.
Both these training methods were demonstrated to be
effective in reducing implicit bias and stereotyping, but
they are essentially diagnostic and should be supplemented
with case reviews, seminars, and supervision of clinical
practice with Latinos.
Improving Estimates of Phenotypes
What is light, intermediate, and dark skin? Skin color is a
subjective construct based on self-reports that often depend
on the social context and observations, which could differ
among clinicians. Hill (2002) found that trained researchers
tended to exaggerate the other race’s skin tone significantly
more than when they were matched with members of their
own race. Also, familiarity and frequent contact could lead
to practitioners’ assessments of in-group skin tone and
features to be more accurate and fine-tuned than of out-
group members. Besides correcting for implicit bias and
stereotypes, workers should also be trained to use and
apply phenotype scales. Objectivity, accuracy, and equiv-
alent measurements in estimating phenotype would
improve significantly with development of an ethnic-spe-
cific, photo-anchored phenotype scale that employs pho-
tographs (or face drawings) as benchmarks for assessing
skin color. The Chicano scale used by Arce et al. (1987)
provides an accessible template for use in designing them
for different ethnoracial groups. Research protocols and
recording phenotype in case records would improve.
Summary and Recommendations
Latinos are conscious every day of their skin tones,
although non-Latinos, black and white, are generally una-
ware, if not skeptical, that race is a problem for them. For
clinicians, the issue has been largely one of out of mind out
of sight. Phenotyping and colorism, as external and inter-
nalized forms of racism, and acculturation and assimila-
tion, as individual and intergroup dimensions of
integration, created a society at variance with cultural
pluralism, under constant tension, and at the core of the
Latino American experience. The process created disparate
world views about ethnicity and race that shaped rela-
tionships and social discourse. As a result, Latino and
mainstream groups grew isolated from each other, dis-
trustful, and vigilant. Latinos’ collective memory of the
colonial experience left them susceptible and poised to deal
with phenotype discrimination in the United States, which
diminished their life chances and social integration and
contributed to their inflicting wounds on themselves and
their families. Growing up, white clinicians learned as well
as anyone about their prominent role and status as domi-
nant members of society. They were likely to live in de
facto segregated neighborhoods and to develop racial atti-
tudes, stereotypes, and implicit biases, of which they were
unaware, that required self-analysis and specific training to
rectify. The theoretical framework presented here to
explain the disparity between many practitioners and
Latino clients was strengthened by results from focused
field interviews used to assess the ethnoracial experience.
Institutional factors were only touched upon, but I am
mindful of the social work maxim that every case is a
failure in social policy. The consequences of making
inaccurate estimates of Latino health and welfare that guide
social policy and service delivery are severe when differ-
ences in Latino skin color are ignored. A study on self-
esteem was cited wherein results were obscured until the
subjects’ phenotypes were known.
The following recommendations are offered to achieve
the goals of improving training and practice and increasing
our understanding of Latinos’ experience with race and
ethnicity:
1. Train clinicians to conduct critical incident interviews
to assess problems and ethnoracial development.
2. Reduce practitioners’ implicit racial bias and stereo-
types and their influence on practice.
3. Conduct qualitative and empirical research to identify
psychosocial effects of phenotyping and colorism.
4. Design photo-anchored phenotype scales to improve
accuracy and consistency in estimating skin color.
5. Assess whether training in ethnoracial factors reduces
early withdrawal of Latinos from treatment.
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Author Biography
Frank F. Montalvo, DSW, MSW Author was clinical social worker in military child and adult psychiatric clinics. Prior to retirement, he
directed Army-wide family services during Vietnam era and headed
minority studies at Department of Defense Race Relations Institute.
He taught social work, cross-cultural practice, and was vice president
of International Academy for Intercultural Research.
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