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[IBARW] Red and Green and Mostly White.
I'm going to just start writing things for International Blog Against Racism Week (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
ibarw), and hope it all comes out in the end.
I've been trying to say something about race for a while, but it's a bit difficult. See, I'm white, and my parents are both white. My mother's family is from Ireland, and my father's is from Mexico.
Very few people in the United States seem to have a problem anymore in considering the Irish to be white. There's a whole book about how that happened. But the idea of being white and Mexican is too much of a mindbender for a lot of people. Part of that has to do with the idea floating around the American consciousness (including among enlightened, urban liberals) that brown people who speak Spanish are Mexicans.1 As someone who is not brown and does not speak Spanish, I am usually assumed to be Italian, with some people going so far as to try to convince me that my last name is a common Italian family name (it's not).
It's hard to write about this because it's an issue I don't have a great handle on. I identify as white because, for better or for worse, it most accurately represents where I am in the racial power structure of the United States, my Mexican heritage notwithstanding. But when it comes to the complications to my identiy, I have a horribly obscured picture of the what and the how and the why.
Recently, my father, who plans to retire to Mexico soon, threatened to sneak into the house to teach my future children Spanish. It didn't explain why my father, who had studied Latin American history as an undergrad, had let the bilingualism of my sister and me end with the smattering of words on Sesame Street, or why our education was left to to the U.S.-centric textbooks in our schools.
I think that's a part of whiteness—the assumption that you don't have to do anything different. But however white my Mexican family is, being Mexican doesn't offer the same security in American whiteness.
I can still remember the time I heard a child—playing a game of looking at people and imagining what they were going to do—happily exclaiming , "Look at those Mexicans, they're probably going to get drunk!"
I mostly remember it because I said it; and because I remember the look on my mother's face (and my father's, in my memory, even though he was driving in the seat in front of me); and because I don't remember what they did to remedy the situation.
These are questions I've meant to ask before writing about it publicly, but what the hell: I know my dad has a blog, and I know he and my mom read this one, and IBARW is supposed to open dialogues. Why not use it to open one in my own family?
WedNYTX: 5:45; WedLATX: 6; WedNYS: 6:15.
1 In this usage, of course, "Mexicans" aren't necessarily from Mexico; they could be from anywhere south of the United States. They're named "Mexicans" not because of the country they're from, but because of the border they illegally crossed.
ibarw), and hope it all comes out in the end.I've been trying to say something about race for a while, but it's a bit difficult. See, I'm white, and my parents are both white. My mother's family is from Ireland, and my father's is from Mexico.
Very few people in the United States seem to have a problem anymore in considering the Irish to be white. There's a whole book about how that happened. But the idea of being white and Mexican is too much of a mindbender for a lot of people. Part of that has to do with the idea floating around the American consciousness (including among enlightened, urban liberals) that brown people who speak Spanish are Mexicans.1 As someone who is not brown and does not speak Spanish, I am usually assumed to be Italian, with some people going so far as to try to convince me that my last name is a common Italian family name (it's not).
It's hard to write about this because it's an issue I don't have a great handle on. I identify as white because, for better or for worse, it most accurately represents where I am in the racial power structure of the United States, my Mexican heritage notwithstanding. But when it comes to the complications to my identiy, I have a horribly obscured picture of the what and the how and the why.
Recently, my father, who plans to retire to Mexico soon, threatened to sneak into the house to teach my future children Spanish. It didn't explain why my father, who had studied Latin American history as an undergrad, had let the bilingualism of my sister and me end with the smattering of words on Sesame Street, or why our education was left to to the U.S.-centric textbooks in our schools.
I think that's a part of whiteness—the assumption that you don't have to do anything different. But however white my Mexican family is, being Mexican doesn't offer the same security in American whiteness.
I can still remember the time I heard a child—playing a game of looking at people and imagining what they were going to do—happily exclaiming , "Look at those Mexicans, they're probably going to get drunk!"
I mostly remember it because I said it; and because I remember the look on my mother's face (and my father's, in my memory, even though he was driving in the seat in front of me); and because I don't remember what they did to remedy the situation.
These are questions I've meant to ask before writing about it publicly, but what the hell: I know my dad has a blog, and I know he and my mom read this one, and IBARW is supposed to open dialogues. Why not use it to open one in my own family?
WedNYTX: 5:45; WedLATX: 6; WedNYS: 6:15.
1 In this usage, of course, "Mexicans" aren't necessarily from Mexico; they could be from anywhere south of the United States. They're named "Mexicans" not because of the country they're from, but because of the border they illegally crossed.
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There are real differences in the internal workings of the two sides of my family, and I'm sure an outside observer could easily figure out which one descended from a Mexican heritage and which one from German, but as it's just my family, I don't usually think about it. I don't even really connect my Mexican heritage with, you know, Mexico or actual Mexicans or "Mexicans" as you describe above.
I generally don't think about this, which is what comes with identifying white, I guess. The only time it's ever truly stopped to make me think was when I was applying to colleges. A lot of my friends were in the same position, actually - not that amazing given that we were all living in El Paso - and I think we all came to different solutions and resolutions for ourselves. I ended up turning down opportunities that were explicitly minority-focused (one such that I recall was a free trip to visit Stanford and be recruited) because I didn't feel like a minority. On the other hand, I had a very real personal need to meticulously check every applicable ethnic box, even on applications that said to only check one (like MIT's). They picked what they wanted to classify me as, since they wanted to pick just one thing, and that was White/Hispanic/Mexican, and I just let them. I'm unsure how I feel about that overall now, probably because I'm unsure how I see myself and unsure of what I think the purpose of that was. But I do know that if I knew for sure that that one classification on their part got me in over someone else, it would probably kill me.
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it's all about assimilation, i think. some amount of "we have to fit in" and some amount of "eh, who needs the old stuff".
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I am not getting as much resistance this time around with teaching Z to be bilingual, although there are some dire predictions about how Z is "slow" because he's "confused" - but oh well.
So perhaps your father was just responding to the times? That he was under the impression that the kids have to learn English first? And is now responding to the times now, which says, it's okay to have both at once?
Also, how old were you in the memory you described above? You sound young - which would suggest to me that you were probably too young to even know you have Mexican ties - which may be why they decided to not do something about it. It's one thing to be aware of race and ethnicity when you clearly LOOK different - and it's another when you don't - especially when you are young. No?
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I remember from my "borders and boundaries" course that Mexicans were legally classified as white when the US invaded/annexed parts of Northern Mexico. US policy was like, "well, if they aren't black or 'Indian', they must be white". I've always found that complicated understandings of Latino/a racialization in the U.S.
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For the record, I'm white -- Irish, English, and French on my mother's side and German, Polish, and Western Russian on my father's side. The only weirdness I've ever gotten about "race," in quotey marks 'cause it doesn't fully count as racial, was from people who seemed to find it an unpleasant surprise that half my family is Jewish.
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I've always been annoyed by those grocery-aisle divisions. Mexican and Asian foodstuffs are in no way exotic or unusual in Southern California.
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Mexican Identity
Your incomplete childhood memory of our response to your remark about Mexicans was supposed to be one of those teachable moments, which were so critical to our parenting plans. Strangely enough, both your mother and I recall that incident, but neither of us can remember exactly what we said to you. I KNOW we said SOMETHING because your mother would never let those moments pass. If she heard you or Prisa say something improper, or inappropriate, she was compelled to respond. We would have traded looks of surprise at your remark, and then spoken to you of the errors of stereotyping and making prejudicial judgments and statements, and the fact that ethnicity does not determine behavior.
As to the lack of bilingualism at home – that was a conscious decision on my part. I toyed with the idea of trying it, and I know some Mexican-American families that did. However, in the successful cases (like your uncle Arthur and Elia), Spanish is the dominant, or prominent language of at least one parent, who speaks it fluently and constantly. I am not naturally comfortable in Spanish, and your mother, who was willing to try it, is less so. I did not want to sacrifice natural, educated, and sophisticated English conversations at home, on the altar of bilingualism. I did not want to maintain a classroom, or artificial environment at home. Teaching you Spanish at home was simply not as important to me as speaking with you. I also foolishly thought that by insisting that you and Prisa take 4 years of Spanish in high school, and practiced with you at home and in car, you would learn a modicum of Spanish and gain some appreciation of the culture. Your Abuelita contributed to this strategy by showing you aspects of Mexican culture (nacimientos, mananitas, posadas). I still think we did the right thing at the time.
I think your blog is more a longing for identity clarification, than about our parenting practices. Your mother and I can explain – rightfully or wrongly – what we did as parents, but that will not satisfy your hunger for resolution. You are on a lifelong quest. During my own quest, I spent 3 summers studying in Mexico, majored in Latin American History at UCLA, and took a Master’s degree in Latin American Studies. I spent 25 years of my life searching for my identity as a Mexican-American in America, and only stopped when marriage and family became more important. I still find myself speaking Spanish to establish a closer rapport with Latin Americans, feeling more comfortable living in ethnically diverse communities, and enjoy working in pre-dominantly Hispanic schools.
You are not Mexican. Your grandmother was, and so were your paternal great-grandparents. You are American. Your family heritage is Mexican, and I wanted you to be proud of it. Your family heritage is also Irish, and I want you to be proud of that too. Ironically you are a product of two ethnic minorities that were (and Mexicans still are) disparaged in this country. However, your identity is your own creation – and it too will evolve through time.
This is a conversation that we need to have on many more occasions. I look forward to it.
By the way, I’m not retiring to Mexico; I’m taking a three month sabbatical to study in Morelia (see Retirement-Sabbatical on my blog). I’m resuming my quest for identity confirmation after a 34 year career hiatus).
Love you,
Dad
Re: Mexican Identity
(Anonymous) 2008-08-10 09:40 pm (UTC)(link)I totally thought we were Black.
We should talk.
Prisa