Veronica

“​Hi, Vero Pedo​…Ay..Just kidding…How are you mija?”
When I was a child, this is how my uncles would always greet me. In Spanish, pedo means fart. Most people’s bullies are acquaintances on the blacktop at school, the mean kid in your class with a shaved head who comes from a bad home. Not me. My bullies were my own family, my uncles who would make fun of my name…​Vero Pedo, Vero Pedo, Vero Pedo. ​As a kid, these words would sear into my heart, causing a volcano inside me. It was a long time before I came to love my name.
I do think my name is beautiful. My name comes from Latin and has many meanings. One meaning is the phrase ​Veraiconica​ which means true image. Veronica was also the woman in the bible who wiped the face of Jesus while he carried the cross to his death; the cloth she used is now famously the shroud of Tourin.
I had always thought that I was named after my mom’s little sister, my Tia Vero. Tia Veronika (she spells it with a ​k​) who was so beautiful her husband abducted her at the age of thirteen in their town in Michoacan. However, my father recently told me the real meaning of my name.
The conversation went something like this. “Dad, was I named after my Tia Vero?”

“No!” he brusquely replied. “No, I named you after a bull fighting move. Yeah, when I was a young guy in Tlatenango, I loved going to see bullfights. They were just so cool. So, I named you Veronica.”
So, bullfighting. Yeah. It turns out I wasn’t named after my sweet and beautiful aunt like I had thought, like I had hoped. I was named for a bullfighting move. I am named for a contradiction; for graceful violence; for a fond memory, but a cruel practice; for something equally a symbol of strength and barbarity; for a tradition but not the one I had expected.
People often mistake me for a Vanessa, Victoria, Valerie. I have often wondered if they thought me too plain for such an exotic, powerful, and gorgeous name as Veronica. But I am Veronica. Veronica which means truth. Veronica which sounds melodic and exotic. Veronica which warrants compliments. Veronica, a much more beautiful name than I probably deserve.
My name has made me strong. Some people love their hair. Others take pride in their beautiful faces. Still others are athletic, graceful, popular, cool. Well, I was never those things. I was the fat nerd named Veronica whom everyone thought was named Vicky, a much less sonorous name. Now, I love correcting people. As soon as they say another V name, I immediately just say, “​Veronica.”
“Oh, yes, of course, I’m sorry.”
I nod. I accept their apology. I do not say, “It’s okay.”

Veronica.​ That is all I have to say in response. One word. One name. But, what I am really saying is, ​go ahead, underestimate me. It didn’t go well for the bull, let’s see how it goes for you.

Wheel of Misfortune

­­­

THE WHEEL OF MISFORTUNE

By Veronica Bollwerk

CHARACTERS:

MISSY FORTUNA            The host of the show Deal or No Deal…With the Devil!!! She is pretty and charming. She does not care at all about the fate of the contestants. She is charmingly indifferent. She is all smiles and grins and teeth.

Seth, the hobo           The first contestant on Deal or No Deal…With the Devil. He has been given a chance to face the devil in exchange for his freedom after being unfairly imprisoned.

Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen—the second contestant. Exactly what you’d imagine. Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen is vapid human garbage. She appears to be the likes of a Hollywood party starlet.  A waste of space. Has been given a chance to avoid jail despite running over an entire kindergarten class. Her name is always read in its entirety.

The Devil                Appears as a smoldering female in all red with horns and heels.

 

Setting: A minimal game show setting. Two stands of some sort.

 

Missy:

Hello and welcome. I’m your host Missy Fortuna and this is Deal or No Deal….WITH THE DEVIL !!! The only game show in which you compete for your immortal soul! Let’s meet tonight’s contestants.

[As Seth the hobo walks on stage, Missy announces the following]

From the streets of Manteca, where it is essentially now illegal to be homeless, and fresh from his MAKEOVER, Seth, the hobo!!!

[Seth awkwardly walks on stage…obviously his fly-ass style is new to him. He still looks obviously homeless, messy hair, dirty face, but he is dressed in what appear to be brand new ED-hardy style clothes in which he is obviously uncomfortable.]

Missy:

Now, Seth was given a choice between serving a lifetime in prison or trying to outwit the devil! Seth, tell us what horrible things you did to make it here today.

Seth:

I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Missy:

Aren’t you all! (overly cheerful)

Seth:

(Deadpan…after a few moments)

They got me for conspiracy to distribute crack cocaine. They didn’t even find anything on me, but some guy pointed the finger at me to get himself off, and now here I am.

 

Missy:

Fascinating…[sarcastically]

[As Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen walks on stage, Missy announces the following:]

And from the OC where it’s better to be rich and pretty than smart and decent, and where people are using more water than ever before despite the drought…Ms.Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen!

[As Kim gets to the “podium”]

Now, Ms. Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen, tell us, what horrible atrocities did you commit to make it here today…

Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen:

[She is perpetually on her cell phone, chewing gum, twisting her hair. She finally notices that Missy is trying to talk to her]

What?! Oh…yeah…they say I ran over some people or something…

Missy:

You ran over an entire kindergarten class.

Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen:

Oh right. Whoops…my bad. Anyway…they said I could do this or community service… so here I am.

Missy:

Okay…(even Missy appears appalled at her lack of humanity).

So, let’s remind our audience that the prizes range from an EBT card with $10 all the way to adoption by Donald Trump! And the Grand prize of course is leaving here with your life, freedom, and immortal soul!!!

And now, let’s bring out the angel of light, the serpent of old, the father of lies himself…the DEVIL…

[Out struts the devil who does a sexy catwalk to the front of the stage before turning back around and walking to stand between Missy and the contestants]

Missy:

Hey Bee-elz…I see you’ve decided to take your female form tonight…

[Devil walks over to Seth and Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen]

Devil: Yeah, I figured this was an easy temptress/jealousy job…

Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Olsen:

Ooooh…is this one of those things where I gotta push a button in a box and someone somewhere in the world is gonna die…only it turns out it’s my mom or something because of some messed up loop hole…that’d be rad…I hate my mom…

The Devil:

[to Missy] Can’t we just kill her already?

Missy:

[Big, cheesy laughter]Oh…Bee-Elz! Now remember, the contestants picked out temptations ahead of time. If they withstand the devil’s challenges, then they will have to face the last one…which can be the either easiest or the hardest… the devil is going to present his first temptation.

The Devil:

This one is for­­­­­ Seth, the hobo. I’ll make you a brilliant musician, but you’ll be blind, schizophrenic and living on skid row. You’ll have marginal fame when Jaime Foxx plays you in a movie. What do you say? Do we have a deal?

Seth, the hobo:

No! that’s a terrible deal… Actually…,I’m an artist (he seems humble and sincere.) I just fell on hard times, you know, the recession and all. I had these loans…I couldn’t find a place…(wanders off and comes to a sudden realization)besides, isn’t that already a movie…

Devil: (Coyly) Noooo…

Seth: Yes it is. It had Robert Downey Jr.

Missy: (cutting in)      ­­

–Okay! Devil, your first temptation has been rejected. Now, let’s go to Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen. What do you have for her?

 

Devil:

Ok, Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen, my deal for you is that you will have a perfect tan year round, but, Ugh boots and Starbucks will go out of business. What do you say? Do we have a deal?

 

Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen:

(Shrieks)As IF! Ugh boots and Starbucks are life! Besides, I don’t want to be mistaken for a Mexican or something. So, are we done here? My daddy said I just had to show up and I’d win this thing.

Devil: I fear you might not understand the gravity of the situation, Ms. Olsen.

Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen:

Ah, duh, what does gravity have to do with anything? Isn’t that that movie with Sandra Bullock?

Devil: (to Missy) Can we kill her NOW?!

Missy: Okay, now to the question-lightning round. The devil is going to ask you questions about—well, himself. Let’s start.

 

 

Devil:

And remember, if you get the question wrong, somewhere in the world, someone slaps a kitten. Ok, this one is for Seth, which doctor did I bargain with in the Christopher Marlow play?

Seth, the hobo:

Oh, I studied that in college. That would be Dr. Faustus

Devil:

What? You weren’t supposed to get that right. You’re a hobo! That triggers a double jeopardy…

Seth:

That’s good right?

Devil:

Well, if you miss the next question, somewhere in the world a murderer gets off because of double jeopardy!

Seth:

Oh—

Devil:

Ya…Here is your question: What am I referred to in Islam?

Seth:

Hell, I don’t know…

Devil:

Oh, that is incorrect, the answer we were looking for is…it doesn’t matter…you just freed a killer!

Seth:

What have I done? I can’t…I can’t play this game…Man…I can’t take this…I live on those streets…I didn’t even do anything wrong. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time…

 

Devil:

Wow, you’re actually a good person, aren’t you? How cute…Ok, Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen, it’s your turn. Your question is, what’s that Christian book thingy with me and god in it and stuff…

Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen:

Ah…the biblio…?

Devil:

Close enough! We fully anticipated you’d get the softball question…a little bit of evil on our part…so…that means someone’s bankrupt!

Seth:

But, wait, there’s not even any money in this game… Oh no, what did you do now?

 

Devil:

No! By getting that right, Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen, You just bankrupted a family living right above the poverty line! (says it with Oprah-level enthusiasm)

Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen:

(Squeals with Joy…bouncing and clapping like an idiot child)

Yay! Poor people are gross! [Looks at Seth]

Seth:

That’s insane! Hey, I’m a hobo; I’m highly offended by that!

The Devil: and now…the lightning round…

Seth: oh no…[shields himself as if lightning is going to strike]

Devil: Oh silly, we’re not going to strike you…we are going to strike… the LAST LIVING WHITE RHINO!

Seth: But Why…? Now they’re extinct! [sobbing]

Missy:

Ok, because I say so, Seth the hobo is in the lead with only seconds left in the game. What’s this? The rules have randomly  changed? Oh, we are now going to allow the public to phone in and vote for who they want saved tonight…sure…that seems fair…

[Devil stands Seth and Kim next to each other much like the Justin and Kelly American Idol finale moment]

Will it be…Seth, the gentle, stylish hobo artist who is down on his luck but generally a good guy? Or Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Olsen, the human garbage who wishes death upon her own mother and thinks there are no consequences for her actions? Call our 800 number and vote!

In the meantime, we are going to make these two dance like monkeys, why? Because we can and you’ll watch anything…dance monkeys…dance…

[Seth and Kim Nicole awkwardly and begrudgingly dance].

Ok, results are in. And tonight’s winner, the person who gets off Scott-free and gets to live is…

Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen!

[Seth is visibly upset. Kim Nicole is not fazed by this as though she doesn’t understand the implication.]

Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Face Olsen:

Unenthusiastically—Yay…I won this dumb game show…

Devil:

[Seems to be disappointed. Slowly goes over to Seth]

[to Seth]: Sorry, man…I was actually rooting for you.

Any last words?

Seth: Yeah, humans suck. These clothes look worse than I smell.

Devil: Yeah…ok, well, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.  I don’t know why you humans insist on doing everything publically…

[Devil goes behind Seth and breaks his neck…lights go out…]

After a few moments, the lights come back on. Everyone is gone except the devil who appears pensive.

 

The Devil:

I gotta say humans. You have really disappointed me. Missy Fortuna, well, she just lets random horrible crap happen to everyone, but you, you had a choice, and, hey, I’m all about choices. You could have chosen to save a good man. You could have gotten rid of a monster. And what do you do? You prove yourselves to be the same Neanderthals that MAN upstairs eradicated with the flood. I’m really starting to think he’s right. You don’t even need me. On your own, you’re worse than anything I can do to you. You know what…I really think…I really think I’m done… I think…humans…I think I’m breaking up with you…It’s not you, it’s me… I mean, it IS you but only because I finally realized you’re all so terrible. I can’t believe I spent two millennia trying to get you to chase after me…ugh…well…off to some other plane of existence…maybe go create some mayhem on Mars now that He’s [points up] finally put that water up there… peace out homies. [Devil drops his cape.]

[Fade out and the song “Sympathy for the Devil” plays for 20 seconds or so before Kim comes back on the stage. She calls out to the devil…presumably she wants more stuff from him.

Kim Nicole Lindsay Boo Boo Olsen:

Hello….uh…devil guy…uh…hello…hello?…Mr. Devil…Don’t I get a deal or something….hellow…

[She sees the cape on the floor. She dons it. Lights go out.]

 

Why Field Trips and Experiences Matter: Building Social Capital

I often wonder how it was that my siblings and I were all able to graduate high school, get accepted to college, and graduate from college to go on to successful careers. There are six of us, five girls and one boy. But the thing that makes our story extraordinary is that we are all first generation Mexican Americans and we all graduated from NMHS. We are a living and breathing example of the capability that our students have. I have often thought about the magic formula that my parents used to help us achieve these great feats. One thing that I have found indispensible is social capital.

The Puente Southern California Trip is an exercise in building social capital. Think about it. Where did you get your social capital? How did you get the knowhow to be where you are today? For many of you, that may have been your parents. For first generation college students, social capital is not gained by their parents, especially if they are students of color.

What is social capital? “Social capital is defined by the OECD as “networks together with shared norms, values and understandings that facilitate co-operation within or among groups”. In this definition, we can think of networks as real-world links between groups or individuals. Think of networks of friends, family networks, networks of former colleagues, and so on,” (OECD).

One of the ways that we gain social capital is through experiencing the world. When students get a chance to break out of their immediate environment, they face new challenges, meet new people, gain different perspectives and ultimately, learn new things. All of these things help them grow as people. But perhaps more importantly, these experiences expose them to the shared values and norms of the learned, of the college-educated world. Without first handedly experiencing the norms and values of another culture (college culture in this case), how will our students learn to navigate that culture? How will they learn not to fear it? How will they learn to start making it part of their culture?

I was fortunate, growing up, that my mother was a housekeeper for a lot of kind, liberal, educated people in Palo Alto who treated my family like family. They answered my mother’s questions about the American schooling system. They validated our efforts when I wrote a good story or when my brother tried out for the swim team. (I wonder if my brother would have become a swimmer had it not been for the Swigarts being totally cool with us using their pool while my mom cleaned. In fact, I wonder if I ever would have fancied myself an aspiring writer had it not been for my mom sharing my book with Mrs. Swigart, who was a writer.) My mom saw their kids go off to college. She pushed us to do the same. We grew up thinking of these people as friends who shared with us not just hand-me-down clothes but also kindness and knowhow. When Mrs. Debbs read to me, sat me down for tea, baked me cookies, she shared with me an awareness of being around learned, kind, good people that helped me when I went on to AP classes, college, and now in my career.

When we limit our students from exploring, from gaining social capital, we really limit their future. Think about how you gained your social capital. Now honestly think to yourself, where in their lives do my students get a chance to gain social capital into the culture of the educated, prosperous, and well-to-do?  Ask yourself, how can I help them gain social capital? How can I be a fount of their social capital?

Poem for Brown Boys from Their Teacher

Look into the eyes of knowledge; they are not hard to find. The eyes of knowledge and

opportunity are the two typed pages staring up at you from the novel you ignore as the

teacher reads. The Dunning Kruger effect states the less someone knows about a subject,

the more confident they are about it. Well, the Dunning Freddie Kruger effect says what

you don’t know is my nightmare. The truth is I can’t make you learn if you won’t. The

truth is…terrifying. The truth is…I want you to learn truths for yourself. The truth is that

although our ancestors invented the zero I don’t want you to be defined by it–by the

nothingness you feel that you are because you’ve allowed your teachers to think that’s

what you turn-in and therefore what you’ve turned into. No, you are a kind man whose

parents have taught kindness and pride; I see that in the eyes that tell me, yes, I want to

learn but I don’t want to be schooled; the eyes that beg for another way to learn that

doesn’t feel like a slap in the face to your sense of wonder. But you have to want it. You

have to try. Horses that are led to water and won’t drink die and remember that horses are

sacred to our people like you are sacred to our people. We need you to be a businessman

and not a hustler, we need you to be a lawyer not a liar, and we need you to fight with

words of the law and not be put away by them. Know that “the world is tough, but so are

you” (Kid President). Know that if you want to be something, you’ll have to have to have

to learn to write so you might as well learn it now. Know that I put effort into the lessons

I present you with and the least you can do in return is put effort into listening. Know that

nothing I teach you is bullshit; it’s all the filtered information that I have found

indispensible through the prickly lessons of an educated life that I wish someday for you,

but maybe you can escape some of the bramble, come away with fewer scars and

humiliations if you just listen to a little bit of my advice that has value because my skin

has pigment and I’ve read and understood literature with these brown eyes, shared my

insights that others couldn’t see because their privileges never gave them reason to.

Listen to me when I say that education is a currency that can never be bankrupt; it is gold

that the government can’t tax you on; it’s capital that doesn’t depend on the markets.

Listen to me when I tell you that my expectations for you are as high as the sky and your

expectations for yourself should be no lower, cause you fly like an airplane and you go

like a bullet train of progress that refuses to be defeated no matter how many politicians

drag it down; you go and get it, at any cost, not that green, but that beige that hangs in a

frame above the fire place at your momma’s house because that is the very least you owe

to her, to me, to the world, to yourself.

An Algebra for Equity

Do you remember that feeling you always had growing up, of knowing you knew the answer but letting someone else tell you that you are wrong? Remember those times when you spoke up and said something brilliant and everyone was shocked? Remember that shame that you felt when someone spoke at you a little too loudly or over-enunciated using hand gestures when communicating with you and your family? These may not be universal experiences, especially if you are white, but these are experiences that I and many people of color or marginalized people have faced in the face of a dominant culture. And for us, there were so many more demeaning experiences we are reluctant to relive, and there will always continue to be so many more because people will always judge me, and others like me, first based on what they think I am as opposed to treating me as a human first and letting their perception of me form thereafter.

I see this in our schools every day. Teachers who are not X assume that

a) they do know what it’s like to be X

b) the knowledge of them as Y gives them knowledge about their student as X

c)  all X students are a monolith and  their culture generally does not value education

d) there is a certain way that you deal with X students

e) I, as a Y was able to do it, so you, as an X should be able to do it.

When we use X and Y as stand-ins, instead of naming the culture or gender or race that are actually used by educators in these examples,  it is easier to see how problematic these statements and assumptions actually are.

In fact, why would anyone who is Y purport to think that they could understand what it is like to be X? In the objective algebraic world, Y does not equal X. In addition, Y and X can stand for anything; they can change from one problem to the next. Being Y is not better than being X and in every single problem, in every single situation, you need to figure out what X is before you going making any assumptions about the value of X.

So, what do variables have to do with race? Presently, we still have educators in our classrooms who identify as Y and who are teaching students whom they see as X. They perceive a fundamental difference between themselves and their students, and, due to those differences, make assumptions that alter, often for the worst, the way they approach teaching those students. These teachers value and laud the X students who have been taught to comply and act as Ys. However, would it not make more sense to figure out what X is all about before you start making assumptions about what X can do—about X’s value?

I believe that all people are genuinely good at heart, and I believe students genuinely want to learn. I do believe that there are those students that you just won’t be able to reach, but I also think there are maybe like 2-5 per class, not half a class. Unfortunately, I often see classes where half of the class is failing, and I just think that is unacceptable. There cannot be that many unreachables in your class. And, teachers, be honest with yourself: how many of those unreachables are a different color and gender than you?

Ralph Waldo Emerson said that “the secret in education lies in respecting the pupil.” The key is to treat every student who comes into your care as his or her own special variable that we need to figure out, get to know, understand. When we treat them with kindness and decency, they in turn see the same in us which is the process by which we solve the problem. And, like in a math class, you get points for steps done correctly along the way even if you didn’t quite get the answer.

Along the way, undoubtedly, there will be teachers who will, with candor and pride at their own enlightented states, that they do not see differences between Y and X.  But, to them, we must say that there should be differences between Y and X. To say there aren’t invalidates X’s culture, identity, self—her X-iness!  And those educators should keep in mind that none of their students buys it for a second that teachers do not see differences—X will not become more like a Y just because Y says it doesn’t believe in variables.

Ultimately, I believe that all educators would agree with the following suggestions that  a) they should get to know the individual needs of all their students b) they should treat their students as people (aka, how you want to be treated—with respect, in a way that keeps your dignity in tact) c) they teach with compassion d) they teach with a realization that not all students perform at the same level and some will need lots of extra help. But I truly wonder how teachers actually put these beliefs into practice in their classrooms. How many educators say hurtful things, if not in class to their students, then behind their backs to their colleagues? Yes, I know that our students frustrate us every day. Yes, I know that they sass us and disrupt. These are not behaviors to condone, but we need to have more awareness of why they are doing what they are doing. And always remember, that is someone’s baby—that child probably has an aunt or uncle who is a teacher who doesn’t want you mistreating them and punishing them through shame and ridicule. I say, treat your students as though they are your nieces and nephews—stern but loving.

I would venture to guess that most of the teachers who are Y’s do not know that they are Y’s nor that they treat their students as X. At this point, I would like to ask all educators to reflect on their practice. Start by asking yourself—are the vast majority of my students learning in and passing my class? If not, ask yourself why you think that is. As a teacher, this should be your ultimate objective and if you have 30%, 50% even 80% of your students failing, you really need to look deeply at your practice and at your belief systems and see if you aren’t a Y who sees your students as an X. And if you come to realize that you are, that’s okay. You aren’t an immoral person who is going to teacher hell (you probably already feel like you’re there anyway).  I have been there. There are some days when I still come back to being a Y. This whole business of (I know, you’re going to scoff) cultural relevance and cultural sensitivity is not a science—it’s a continuum of practice, reflection, compassion, and growth—just like all teaching should be.

So, what I posit is that we all foster an effective learning environment with discipline and dignity. Here are some suggestions for doing just that:

Have a well-thought out classroom management plan in place and stick to it; this will make sure you are seen as fair and that certain kids don’t feel like they are being called out. How many times have you been in a class where everyone is talking and off task, but the loudest kid, and probably the most striking, either because of his attire or color, gets the punishment. That child usually gets indignant, understanding that an injustice really has been perpetrated against him, since, basically, he got called out for being the most X. If you have an effective management plan, this can be avoided. Start by having the entire class get quiet before you go on. If and then that one child keeps at it, check in with him quietly, let him know you need to see him after class, and talk then about how he was breaking the norms that you really need in order to be able to teach him as best you can. Trust me, the kids don’t respect you any more just for being mean.

Understand the difference between cultural behavior and malicious behavior.

Discipline before you are angry

Decide what is really really important to you that you are going to enforce

Use the interactive lecture or I do, we do, you do class structure to minimize day dreaming and idle time during which kids can get in trouble—when kids work independently for longs period of time and it’s not a test, I rarely see a majority working.

Make class a fun/ safe/ inclusive/ inviting place where student will want to be; it should be a punishment to be sent out.

Have your first or second consequence be contacting parents.

Allow kids to earn the ability to get out of a punishment by exhibiting preferred behaviors after the consequence has been doled.

Keep students in for mini-consequence-conferences at lunch.

Use proximity to maintain a positive environment.

Don’t use eye contact with all kids as many actually see that as a threat in their culture.

When you want a kid to do something, like pick up something they “dropped” on the ground, start with, “Can you do me a favor…”

Remember, it’s all about allowing someone to change their behavior and keep their dignity in tact.

 

 

Cultural Gaslighting

When I first wrote this post, I called it Cultural Amnesia. I grew up knowing so little about my culture, about Mexican or Mexican American history, and when I first discovered this dearth of knowledge, I thought it must have been some mistake. Clearly, this was a fault of busy or uncaring parents who couldn’t be bothered to have taught me about who I was or where I came from. I thought maybe Mexican American culture had amnesia. I thought that perhaps we had forgotten our history. Now, I see things differently.

Now, I think about it much more as gaslighting on a national level. It turns out that America is the greatest of all gaslighters. When you systematically make people forget their culture, you can control their identity.

Almost everyone knows or should know,  that the Western United States was once part of Mexico. It wasn’t even that long ago. The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was signed in 1848. To give you some scope, Lincoln was already a politician when Mexico was double its current size. He opposed the Mexican-American war by the way. The United States started this war with Mexico in order to take their land. Many say the U.S. was just retaliating for spilled blood, but since Texas was still seen as being Mexican territory by Mexico, and since the U.S. came away with half of Mexico in the end, it does seem to me that the United States was the baddie. In school, I remember learning that Henry David Thoreau spent time in jail and wrote Civil Disobedience. But I don’t remember learning that he went to jail for refusing to pay a tax because he was against the Mexican-American War and did not want his tax dollars going toward an unjust war. When you see an unjust law, it is your duty to fight against it, is Thoreau’s argument. We learn that beautiful American sentiment, but we don’t learn about the War. We don’t want those Mexicans—those aliens—getting any ideas, thinking that what was done to them wasn’t what they deserved because the U.S. had God on their side and God wanted them to have a country that reached from sea to shining sea. No, instead, after the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, the Mexicans who were on the “U.S. side” were made American citizens, whether they liked it or not. In the treaty “The United States paid Mexico $15,000,000 ‘in consideration of the extension acquired by the boundaries of the United States'” (see Article XII of the treaty)…Other provisions included protection of property and civil rights of Mexican nationals living within the new boundaries of the United States (see Articles VIII and IX),” (usarchives.gov).  So the U.S. got half of Mexico for 15 million. Wow.

As part of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, the U.S. promised to protect the “property and civil rights of Mexican nationals living within the new boundaries of the United States (see Articles VIII and IX).” Ha…ha ha ha. Ha! The story of Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo, who owned what is now the Vallejo and Petaluma area, will alone tell you how well of a job the U.S. did to protect the property and civil rights of its new well-tanned citizens. The Vallejo City website will tell you how Mariano Vallejo graciously gave up 153 acres of land to begin the city that now bears his name. But the website mentions nothing about how a group of rag-tag Americans took him prisoner and took away most of his property (Latino Americans). And basically, Americans did this to pretty much every land-holding newly naturalized Mexican American. The Mexican Americans were outnumbered and couldn’t afford the legal fees to fight land disputes and so—poof—it was just taken away. And sadly, we are a people with cultural amnesia. I grew up knowing nothing of my culture and history except that we have quinceaneras, Dia de los Muertos, loud music, and are generally seen as a people who are somehow less-than. Perhaps immigration reform is an appropriate form of  reparations. You, know, at the very least, an apology for taking our land and like, for killing black and brown people for no reason and letting people get away with it like all the time.  Oh, and not exploiting us economically every chance you get…is that really asking too much? Giving us a fair shot?

When you make people forget where they come from, you can tell them what they are. You can form their identity by the way you treat them. Intentionally, American culture keeps us from knowing the truth about our history because they don’t want us to see how much power and legitimacy we actually have. And they are afraid of this.

They don’t want us to see that their arguments de-legitimize us as a people; insisting they somehow deserve to be here and in charge more than we do is a crock of shit.  Race relations in this country are at the worst they have been in a long time. What everyone just wants is to be treated in a way that allows them to maintain their human dignity. Honestly, what we want is just to be treated as individuals, and not to be seen as a scourge.

And it doesn’t work the other way because the people in power are the ones who get to create the narrative—they are the ones who ascribe identities to others, and so obviously they only assign good identities to themselves. This is why there is no real insulting word to call a white man. So no, we are not post-racial.  No, reverse racism is rarely ever an actual thing, and it certainly is not even in the top five racial things we should even be thinking about let alone discussing and giving actual credence to (ahem Fox “News”).  And so I say all of this to try to give you, the person who has experienced life differently than me and people who look like me, context as to how to start trying to understand me and people who look like me, especially, if you are trying to teach me—and teach me well.

 

Resources:

http://www.archives.gov/education/lessons/guadalupe-hidalgo/