Monthly Archives: May 2007

Beyond the soundbites

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Every once in a while, all the negative discourse about undocumented immigration (mainly from Mexico and Central America) just gets to me and I shut down. I’ve read books and articles. I know facts and figures and can rattle them off if needed. But I’ll choose not to engage with those who harbor views on immigration diametrically opposed to my own. It’s a waste of time, I rationalize. I worry that I’ll just end up wasting precious time on someone unwilling to even listen.

I probably wouldn’t engage with a member of the Minutemen(sos). In fact, I supported UCLA students when they protested outside of a debate which brought the president of the California chapter to campus. The event was shut down because of worries about security. The student group eventually held the event last Tuesday, while all the students who would be likely to protest a member of the Minutemen(sos) speaking on campus were too busy with the May Day immigration rights marches and rallies across town.

But there are people who ask the hard questions and do engage in those conversations.

María Hinojosa, an award winning journalist with PBS’s NOW on the News and NPR’s Latino USA, is one of those people. She interviewed the founder and president of the Minutemen(sos), Chris Simcox. She asks him tough questions he can’t seem to answer without resorting to soundbites about criminals and terrorism. Simcox comes out of the interview looking like quite the menso. Hinojosa’s interview with Simcox reminded me of a clip from an episode of Penn & Teller Bullshit! show on the Showtime network. In the clip, they take on the Minutemen(sos) with less journalistic objectivity and more humor and profanity.

María Hinojosa is my hero. I want to be like her when I grow up. En serio.

Download the Hinojosa/Simcox podcast here. To watch the Penn & Teller clip, check youtube.

[Note: Thanks to Mex Files for writing about the Hinojosa interview. I wouldn't have ever known about it without their post on the subject.]

First time for everything

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Something strange happened to me yesterday morning.

I woke up too early.

This does not happen to me. I’m the girl who sleeps in and shows up late for class, work, an exam, a meeting, or a flight. I’m just not a morning person.

So, how did this happen? Why did I wake up at 6 something rather than closer to 9 (I had a 10 am meeting)?

Well, someone text messaged me at 6:12 am. With half-open eyes, I read the time as 9:12 am. I went back to sleep for a bit longer, but then climbed out my bed and stumbled to the shower.

After showering, I checked the clock radio on the nightstand. It read 7:20. Huh?

The other woman staying in the hotel with me, Oiyan, asked me, “why are you up so early?” We’ve shared hotel rooms enough times for her to know that I like to sleep in as long as possible before showing up to a meeting or conference.

I finished getting ready and wondered what I would do with my time. Should I read for class? Take a nap? Go to morning Mass at the Santa Barbara Mission? Go to the beach and read?

I used my extra time to take a walk, get breakfast and do some writing.

I’m not sure waking up too early will ever happen again, but at least I wasn’t late or rushing to my meeting.

Talkin’ about my generation

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I’ve been doing a lot of reading on what happens to the children of immigrants in the subsequent generation(s) following their settlement in the US. Sociologists split up the generations like this:

  • 1st – born in a foreign country, emigrated to the US
  • 1.5 – children age 0-12 who emigrated with family members (some researchers split up this group further by 1.53 and 1.56, younger than 3 and 6 at age of immigration, respectively)
  • 2nd – first generation born in the US
  • 3rd – born in the US, parents born in the US, grandparents are foreign born

While reflecting on this in class, I re-realized that it’s not that simple. As a researcher, I know you need to set cutoffs and make labels for statiscal analysis, but if I was filling out a survey I know calling myself second generation would be putting it too simply.

Here’s what nativity looks like in my family’s past three generations:

Grandparents
Papá Chepe – Ciudad Juárez
Mamá Toni – El Cargadero, Zacatecas

Grandpa Bartolo – Salamanca, Guanajuato
Grandma Juana – Omaha, Nebraska

Parents
Luz – Jerez, Zacatecas
Carlos – Salamanca, Guanajuato

Me – Monterey Park, CA

The grandparents and parents’ generations seem pretty simple. Except when you throw in my Grandma Juana in there. I remember when I learned that she was born in Nebraska. I was in third grade and working on a three generation family tree for school.

When my mom answered my question about Grandma’s birthplace, I looked at her like she was joking. There were Mexicans in Nebraska?

Needless to say, I was surprised. I simply assumed that Grandma was born in Mexico because my dad was born there, she spoke Spanish and her sisters lived there. My mom explained to me that my grandparents moved to Nebraska for the same reason Mexicans cross the border now: to work.

A few years later, the topic came up again. My grandma sang the lyrics to a song she remembered in kindergarten. I don’t know how long she and her family stayed in Nebraska before returning to Mexico, but I do know she spent more time in Guananjuato than in Nebraska.

Both of my parents emigrated with their families as children. My dad’s family* went from Guanajuato to south Texas. They lived in Stockton (northern California) before settling in Boyle Heights. My dad looked no older than 8 years old in the passport photo he took standing next to his father and 6 siblings.

Mom’s family went from Zacatecas to Tijuana. Early in the 60s the family moved their main residence from Tijuana to Lincoln Heights, but they still kept the house in Tijuana. My mom was a little girl.

If my parents are the first generation — remember, my dad’s mom was born here — then they’re definitely part of the 1.5 generation. They did almost all of their schooling here.

Can you understand my confusion? The cut and dry folks would say 2nd generation. But they’d also say that my parents are different from a first generation person who came as a young adult rather than as a school-age child. And what about the fact that my grandmother spent her early childhood in the US? Her nativity gave her the rights of a citizen, which made it much easier in the sense of immigration.

I’m fine with calling myself 2.5 generation. Maybe I can just add an asterisk. I’m sure we all have our own asterisks for our families’ immigration stories.

[*Note: my 'unit of analysis' here is the family, so I'm ignoring the fact that both of my grandfathers worked as braceros as young men in the 40s and 50s.]

Snarky reply needed

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Too many things have frustrated me today. The exchange below is one of them. M is on my MySpace friends list because our families are close and we were involved in the same church youth group as teens.

I replied once to the first part of the bulletin, but ignored the other parts. I don’t feel like continuing the discussion, mainly because my attention should be focused on my meeting. If I was gonna reply, what should I say?

———– Bulletin Message ———–

From: M
Date: May 5, 2007 1:52 PM

Isn’t it funny how Cinco de Mayo is a celebration of a single victory over invading forces from another country. Yet presently today, the decendents of those freedom fighters are fighting to justify an “invasion” into another country, and anyone who tries to rally against them is termed a “racist?”

[insert lame joke about Mexicans]

———– Original Message ———–

From: cindylu
Date: May 5, 2007 2:15 PM

I think a military invasion/attack is a whole lot different than labor migrants surrepitiously crossing a border or overstaying visas.

cindy

———– Bulletin Message ———–
From: M
Date: May 5, 2007 1:52 PM

And why was there a military invasion?

Oh yeah, in light of the day, I leave you all with my haiku commemorating the date.

Cinco de mayo
Sponsored by beer companies
Ignored by Raza

A non-boycotter’s guilt

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As far as the eye can see I feel guilty.

I came to class today. I’m doing my office hours — one of my responsibilities as a GSA officer — too. In an hour or so, I’ll be making my way to north campus for my sociology class on ethnic minorities. We’ll be discussing Italians Then, Mexicans Now and America’s Newcomers and the Dynamics of Diversity. I haven’t read the first book and I might buy it before class. I’m a special reader for the latter. Skipping class might be a viable option if the classes met more than once a week and I hadn’t already missed Tuesday classes two weeks ago.

It is May 1st and just like last year, activists working for immigration reform have planned marches in downtown Los Angeles. They’re calling for no buying, no selling, no work and no school. They want people on the streets to show that we still want Congress to enact immigration reform that does not criminalize undocumented immigrants currently in the country and leads to a path to citizenship.

I support this movement fully, but I’m not there.

Instead I’m talking about immigration in class. I’m talking about what brings Mexicans to the US, why they stay, how they’re incorporated in to a dynamic and increasingly diverse culture, and how this could all change in the future.

I keep wanting to rationalize not being at the marches and not participating in the boycott. I want to feel like it’s okay… but it just doesn’t feel right.