Reaction 3

It’s 1920 and you, Alonzo Vasquez, are a Mexican immigrant to the United States. While you love your new country, it is very important to you that your family remember and honor your culture and traditions, many of which are tied to your homeland. You are increasingly worried that your children, in the process of becoming “American,” are ignoring the importance of their heritage. Why is it so important to you that your family retain some cultural connection to Mexico and your Mexican heritage? What evidence is there that your children are being wholly “Americanized?” What conflicts has this created between you and your children?

I came here for a new life; for the rich soil, for the vast farmland, for the clean air, for these American cities of gold. And I found it. I see it on the front page of a newspaper written in a language I barely understand, I see it for my cardboard covered window in the small room my family and I rent in the slums outside the city. I see the fine rich white men pass by me on the street, kicking mud in muck in my direction without a backward glance.

It's not that we haven't prospered at all, while our home is a shack, we own it. I make almost double what I made in Mexico, though we do not prosper as I hoped. We have moved beyond the minimalistic substenance farming of Mexico, but this new technological society my family faces is more scary than poverty. Back home our family was the top priority in my life, here it ranks much farther down my list. Many of the cultural aspects I previously embraced are shunned here, I cannot speak my native language I am forced to try to converse in my elementary level English. It truly hinders my potential and makes me seem uneducated which I am far from. My children are forced to be in school most days of the week, tossed in a classroom with the other immigrant children being taught a second rate education to match their status as a second class citizen. The father, the leader, the head of the household, I am never home. I am always working in the shoe factory trying to get enough money to keep food on our table (whether I see that table or not). My wife is forced to take low paying domestic jobs to make ends meet sacrificing her most important role as mother.

Yet we cannot let these ill feelings bring us down. We have come to the land of opportunity be it double sided or not. There is not much else we can do but continue to hold on, struggle day to day but maintain our independent identity. I wish there was something else I could do for my wife and four children but our silver lined future is tarnished, and I fear my disillusioned hope has broken us down. We cannot compete in this world of materialism, we do not have the monetary resources to keep up. We cannot embrace this new American life so completely when we are not seen as Americans, but as Mexicans poisoning the country from across the border. We will prosper. I intend soon to head to California, where I will work in the fields of great plantations where we can be closer to the earth, closer to the ways we cherish. My wife's family is already there and they seem much more content than we are. Maybe there is hope after all, I just haven't been looking in the right place. We will see someday whether this decision was right or wrong, but for now we will just focus on our dreams.