Latinos
Abridged Verson:
El Duque lords verse over death
By Gilberto Hinojosa
“By the grace of God, I’m just a poor devil dedicated to writing poetry,” says Moisés Espino del Castillo, affectionately known as El Maestro.
Honored by the Mexican Consulate and the San Antonio-Mexico Friendship Council for his literary contributions, Don Moisés has spent decades promoting Mexican culture and Spanish-language literature.
His best-known work is the annual publication of Calaveras, humorous verses poking fun at prominent figures. For more than 30 years, his Calaveras have become a cherished local tradition — inclusion in them considered both an honor and a sign of affection.
Born in 1918 near Saltillo, Coahuila, Don Moisés began writing poetry in grade school and published his first poem, “El Trencito” (“The Little Train”), inspired by a passing train. After moving to the United States, he mastered English, taught Spanish, and translated countless documents and books.
Known by his pen name El Duque del Castillo (“The Duke of the Castle”), he is also fondly called El Duque de las Calaveras. When not writing, he enjoys cooking traditional dishes and listening to music.
Now in his later years, Don Moisés continues to write with gratitude and humor, his words enriching both sides of the border.
Muchas gracias, Maestro, por sus versos
Unique Mexican American Experiene
Abridged Version:
Unique Mexican-American experience growing nationally
By Gilberto Hinojosa
El Día de la Raza (Oct. 12) commemorates the creation of a new people — a blend of Spanish and Indian blood and cultures. In the U.S., la raza has evolved into a distinct Mexican-American identity.
Mexican-Americans embody traits of territorial minorities, racial minorities, and traditional immigrants. In Texas and the Southwest, their heritage is rooted in Indian and Spanish occupation. Yet in the Midwest, scholars note they function more like classic immigrants adapting to a new country.
Midwestern cities such as Chicago now have large and growing Mexican-American populations, without the deep historical ties of the Southwest. Instead, they join a mosaic of ethnic communities that promote cultural pluralism rather than sharp divisions.
Though tensions occasionally arise, Mexican-Americans in the Midwest are integrating into society through patterns familiar to other immigrant groups. Many maintain transnational ties — families, goods, and traditions crossing both sides of the border — while also planting roots in the United States.
Abridged Version:
A New-World, Mestizo Society Is Forming
On Monday, the nation will observe Columbus Day. For Latinos, it is El Día de la Raza — the Day of the New People — when a new cultural and racial mixture, the mestizaje, emerged from Europeans and Indigenous peoples.
Today, globalization has extended this process across the world. As Father Virgil Elizondo foresaw in The Future is Mestizo, cultures are meeting, blending, and reshaping humanity. Ethnic boundaries are softening, and many now share a common cultural space that transcends national and religious lines.
Earlier models of assimilation or cultural pluralism no longer explain these changes. Where scholars once spoke of “melting pots” or “internal colonialism,” we now see an increasingly interconnected world where traditions merge organically.
History offers many examples. In colonial Mexico, Spaniards looked down on Indigenous foods and insisted on European cuisine, yet native flavors and techniques transformed the new dishes. Similarly, Anglo newcomers once shunned Mexican foods — but now breakfast tacos and salsa have become American staples.
The United States itself has evolved through conflict and adaptation. Though the nation’s founders sought cultural conformity, the country’s democratic ideals gradually made space for difference. Over time, America became a society of mixtures — racial, cultural, and spiritual.
Across the globe, this blending continues. The rejection of ethnic exclusivity, as seen in the fall of Milosevic’s regime, suggests that humanity is slowly moving beyond the hatreds of the past.
Indeed, both the present and the future are mestizo.
Unique Mexican American Experiene
Abridged Version:
Unique Mexican-American experience growing nationally
By Gilberto Hinojosa
El Día de la Raza (Oct. 12) commemorates the creation of a new people — a blend of Spanish and Indian blood and cultures. In the U.S., la raza has evolved into a distinct Mexican-American identity.
Mexican-Americans embody traits of territorial minorities, racial minorities, and traditional immigrants. In Texas and the Southwest, their heritage is rooted in Indian and Spanish occupation. Yet in the Midwest, scholars note they function more like classic immigrants adapting to a new country.
Midwestern cities such as Chicago now have large and growing Mexican-American populations, without the deep historical ties of the Southwest. Instead, they join a mosaic of ethnic communities that promote cultural pluralism rather than sharp divisions.
Though tensions occasionally arise, Mexican-Americans in the Midwest are integrating into society through patterns familiar to other immigrant groups. Many maintain transnational ties — families, goods, and traditions crossing both sides of the border — while also planting roots in the United States.
Ultimately, the heritage of mestizaje—the racial and cultural mixture central to Mexican identity—is helping Mexican-Americans integrate not only into Midwestern society but into the broader American mainstream.
Abridged Version:
New mestizaje; same suffering
When “Uzbekistan” becomes a familiar word, it reminds us that peoples across the world are now interconnected. The first great step toward this global mixing began on Oct. 12, 1492, when Columbus reached the Americas. For Latinos, Columbus Day—El Día de la Raza—commemorates the birth of a mestizo (mixed) people.
The Spanish-Indian mestizaje was born of conflict and inequality, yet it created a new people and culture. Today, a similar process occurs as peoples from developing nations interact with industrialized societies through commerce, technology, and migration.
Like the Spanish in the 16th century, modern dominant nations impose economic and cultural norms—often unintentionally—through powerful media and global markets. Less powerful societies resist, fearing moral and spiritual emptiness in Western materialism.
History shows that dominant groups use not only force but also cultural influence to reshape others. Conquered peoples often adopt selected tools or technologies while reinterpreting or defending their spiritual traditions, as Indigenous peoples did with Christianity in the Americas.
Understanding these dynamics helps explain why some Islamic societies reject aspects of Western culture even as they adopt its technology. They fear losing their own values in the process.
The world’s future may indeed be mestizo, but history reminds us that cultural blending often comes with deep suffering and loss.
Lines of race, culture blurring
Each Oct. 12, Latin America celebrates El Día de la Raza—the Day of the (New) People—honoring the mestizaje, or blending, of Spanish, Indian, and African peoples that shaped the Americas.
This mixture was born from both necessity and conflict. After the conquest, Spaniards and Indians were kept apart by policy, but economic need and the shortage of Spanish women led to widespread racial mixing. Early mestizos often suffered stigma, caught between two societies. Africans, brought to Mexico as laborers, also intermingled with Indians and Spaniards, producing countless combinations of ancestry.
By the late 18th century, most of Mexico’s population was of mixed heritage, though colonial authorities tried to maintain rigid racial classifications. Social mobility often depended on appearing more “Spanish,” and prejudice against Indian and African heritage persisted even after racial categories were abolished in 1824.
Despite this, mestizaje created a rich cultural synthesis visible in music, food, religion, and daily life. Traditions like the veneration of the Virgin of Guadalupe show how Indigenous and European beliefs merged into something uniquely Mexican.
Today, this same blending of races and cultures continues worldwide. El Día de la Raza reminds us that humanity’s future is increasingly mixed—a global mestizaje that blurs old racial lines and challenges prejudice.
Civil Rights Reform Will Withstand Attacks . . . Eventually
Civil and voting rights, along with affirmative action, are under attack today much like during Reconstruction after the Civil War.
Reconstruction sought to rebuild the South and guarantee freedom for the formerly enslaved. Constitutional amendments promised civil and voting rights, but the reforms were resisted, undermined by “black codes,” and eventually abandoned in the political deal of 1876. The South reestablished systems of racial and social control that blocked equality for nearly a century.
The civil rights movement of the 1960s forced America to again face these promises, sometimes called the “Second Reconstruction.” Yet today, reforms face backlash once more. Myths suggest that minorities unfairly benefit from civil rights and affirmative action, while the real causes of economic insecurity—downsizing, overseas jobs, and inequality—go overlooked.
Though these myths may temporarily succeed, the principles of fairness and equality are too deeply woven into the American fabric to be denied forever
After 72 Years, LULAC Still Committed to La Causa
Founded in 1929, the League of United Latin American Citizens (LULAC) grew out of early Mexican American organizations that promoted citizenship and English as the path to equality. At the time, Mexicans faced segregation, poll taxes, “white primaries,” and exclusion from juries.
LULAC fought these barriers through education and advocacy. Members pushed for equal school funding, challenged segregation, and promoted public housing and health initiatives. In the 1940s and ’50s, they opposed the Bracero program, backed anti-discrimination court cases, and supported Latino candidates like Raymond Telles and Henry B. Gonzalez.
The group helped found the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund and worked with Dr. Hector P. Garcia in establishing the GI Forum. By the 1980s, LULAC had shifted from once supporting Operation Wetback to defending immigrant rights.
Women’s chapters, “Ladies LULAC,” expanded the organization’s reach, and Junior LULAC fostered youth leadership. Today, LULAC continues to champion education, civil rights, and Latino health care access.
After 72 years, its commitment to la causa remains strong.
Expansion creates a new people
Feb. 2 marks the 150th anniversary of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, which led to the creation of the Mexican-American people. The treaty stated that Mexicans in the conquered territories who did not retain Mexican citizenship would be incorporated into the U.S. and enjoy all rights as U.S. citizens. President James K. Polk and others who supported Manifest Destiny did not foresee that Mexican-Americans, along with other Hispanic groups, would make up a significant portion of the U.S. population by 2020.
The transition of Mexican settlers into Mexican-Americans was an unexpected result of U.S. westward expansion and economic interests in key Mexican port cities like Santa Fe and Matamoros. Trade routes and American economic ambitions played a major role in shaping the Southwest, with American merchants valuing access to northern Mexico.
Disputes over the Trans-Nueces territory were central in provoking the U.S.-Mexican War, driven by desires for trade and territorial gains. While there was enthusiasm for conquering all of Mexico, opposition over incorporating a mixed-race population and the issue of slavery led the U.S. to settle for only Mexico's sparsely populated northern lands.
Through the treaty, Tejanos, Nuevo Mexicanos, and Californios—descendants of early Spanish and Mexican settlers—became U.S. citizens. Although their rights were not fully honored, economic forces drew more Mexicans northward, and these settlers along with newcomers eventually formed the Mexican-American community. This transformation process began with the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo on Feb. 2, 1848.
Abridged Version:
Civil Rights Won, Not Granted Automatically
The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo in 1848 granted U.S. citizenship to Mexicans in the conquered territories, but those rights were rarely honored without struggle.
Land loss was immediate. Tejanos, whose ranchos often lacked precise surveys, faced confusing new legal systems and hostile land commissions. The burden of proof fell on Mexican landowners, while Anglo plaintiffs were favored. Many Tejanos sold ranches under economic pressure, lost them to squatters, or were driven off by violence.
This dispossession transformed many Mexicans into a laboring class, exploited in ranching, farming, and city building. Resistance arose in the form of revolts, mutual aid societies, labor unions, and political clubs that fought to regain civil rights.
By the 1960s and 1970s, Chicano activists pushed further, demanding recognition of cultural rights in addition to political equality.
Velásquez’s Efforts Are Still Alive
By Gilberto Hinojosa — Nov. 3, 2000
Willie Velásquez, who founded the Southwest Voter Registration Education Project in the 1970s, transformed Latino political participation by registering millions of voters and leading “get-out-the-vote” campaigns. He believed local issues and tangible results would inspire Latinos to the polls, a philosophy that continues to guide his legacy.
Even after his death in 1988, Velásquez’s work lives on through the William C. Velásquez Institute, which researches Latino needs and advocates for policies on immigration, labor, education, health care, and civic engagement.
Surveys show most Latinos support legalization programs for undocumented workers, oppose mass deportations and border fences, and reject denying civil rights or services to immigrants. Many also disapprove of the costly U.S. war on drugs, while strongly favoring stricter gun control laws.
Through training, research, and leadership development, the Institute carries forward Velásquez’s vision of empowering Latinos to shape their communities and the nation.
“El Willie” is still with us.
La Raza’s Early Efforts Mark the Dawn of Political Power
By Gilberto Hinojosa — Jan. 19, 1997
In 1969, Mexican-American students in Crystal City staged a school walkout to protest poor education and exclusion, sparking broader activism. Soon after, La Raza Unida Party was founded in Zavala County in 1970, signaling a new era of Latino political engagement.
La Raza quickly won local offices in Crystal City and the Winter Garden region, inspiring efforts across Texas. Its most visible moment came in 1972 when Ramsey Muñiz ran for governor, earning over 6 percent of the vote. While the party gave voice to demands for bilingual education and fair representation, its rise also provoked strong resistance from Texas Democrats, who passed laws to restrict third parties and attacked La Raza as radical.
Though La Raza declined by the early 1980s, its impact was lasting. Both Democrats and Republicans moved to integrate Mexican-American candidates and address issues important to Latino communities.
The short-lived rise of La Raza Unida Party demonstrated the growing political power of Mexican-Americans and helped shape the path of Texas politics for decades to come.
A Reverence for History: The Legacy of Mexican-American Self-Help Societies
Historical documents evoke a sense of awe for their intimate connection to the past, especially when they recount the struggles and resilience of marginalized communities. Early 20th century mutualistas—Mexican-American self-help societies—formed a crucial support network for workers facing poverty and discrimination in South Texas. Members sacrificed meager wages to fund insurance, social clubs, and mutual aid, revealing their commitment to collective survival against hostile social and economic forces.
One figure who played a key role in uniting and inspiring these organizations was Sara Estela Ramirez, a teacher and writer who arrived in Laredo in 1898. Through essays and speeches, Ramirez articulated the shared aspirations of Mexican workers and encouraged them to overcome societal divisions through mutual respect and unity. As a leader, she advocated not only for fair labor conditions but also for a deeper spiritual unity—urging workers to recognize their innate value and the importance of their contributions to society.
The influence of these organizations was far-reaching, crossing the Rio Grande and leading to the formation of important labor unions such as La Sociedad de Obreros, Igualdad y Progreso. Ramirez, along with other activists, traveled between Texas and Mexico, organizing rallies, supporting labor strikes, and founding newspapers to unify and inform the community.
Despite fierce anti-Mexican sentiment and exclusion from key jobs, organizers like Ramirez continued mobilizing workers in both Laredo and San Antonio. Their greatest legacy was not just in tangible gains, but in fostering ethical and spiritual guidance for the Mexican-American community—a legacy still honored when historians handle and preserve their old records.
In reflection, these documents serve as a reminder of the profound dedication, unity, and dignity displayed by past generations in their struggle for justice, equality, and mutual support.
‘Chicano!’ A First Step in Telling the Mexican-American Story
By Gilberto Hinojosa
The Chicano movement of the 1960s and ’70s was driven by hope and collective action. That spirit is echoed in “Chicano! History of the Mexican American Civil Rights Movement,” a powerful four-part PBS documentary that aired last month.
The series explores pivotal struggles such as the land rights fight of Reyes Tijerina, the farm workers’ huelga, educational reform, and Raza Unida politics. It highlights how post-WWII prosperity and GI benefits gave rise to a new Mexican-American middle class, even as discrimination persisted.
Political involvement surged when John F. Kennedy’s campaign drew strong Mexican-American support, followed by increased civic participation during Lyndon Johnson’s War on Poverty. Women and youth also became key leaders during this time.
Despite gains, many challenges remain—family instability, poverty, and lack of opportunity. What’s missing today is the same level of organization and hope that once fueled the movement.
“Chicano!” may help rekindle that hope. It’s a valuable resource for schools and organizations to understand and share this vital part of American history.
Chavez’s Dream Still Unrealized
By Gilberto Hinojosa
César Chávez, raised in a struggling California barrio, inspired generations with his motto “Sí se puede!” His dream was to organize farmworkers and fight the injustices they faced—low wages, poor working conditions, and legal neglect.
In 1969, Chávez’s message sparked a march from Texas’s Rio Grande Valley to Austin. Though political leaders met with them, they offered no meaningful reforms. Instead, state authorities, including the Texas Rangers, suppressed union efforts.
Decades later, conditions for farmworkers remain dire. Poverty persists in South Texas, and child labor has become deadly. Between 1986 and 1992, 140 child farmworkers died from pesticide exposure, malnutrition, or exhaustion.
Farmworkers are still hard to organize. Many are undocumented and easily exploited. Agribusinesses wield enormous political power and receive generous subsidies, while contributing heavily to campaigns.
Despite some progress, Chávez’s vision remains largely unfulfilled. The suffering of farmworkers—and their children—continues. Yet his words endure: “Sí se puede!”
Abridged Version: Equal Education’s a Community Job
For over 160 years, access to education for Mexican-American children in Texas has been a controversial issue. This responsibility stems from U.S. expansion into Hispanic regions and the reliance on Mexican labor.
Historian Guadalupe San Miguel, in Let All of Them Take Heed, argues that public agencies are responsible for educating these children. When they failed, churches and ethnic organizations stepped in.
In the early 1900s, public education in Texas was often corrupt and poorly funded. Rural Mexican schools were housed in shacks, with few supplies and underpaid teachers.
Land-owning ranch families in South Texas showed some commitment to education, but urban developers and agricultural barons largely ignored the needs of their Mexican workers' children.
Studies in the 1920s exposed the widespread neglect. Many children were unscreened, undereducated, or entirely left out. Reform efforts often aimed more at assimilation than genuine support.
English-only laws were passed, and "sink-or-swim" language programs failed many students. Although some reformers recognized the strengths of Mexican-American children, most schools offered minimal support.
Despite this, Mexican-American families have continually pushed for educational equity. The challenge—then and now—is ensuring access and convincing the broader community of its shared responsibility.
Bastille evokes universal rights
by Gilberto Hinojosa
(7-10-98):
The storming of the Bastille, on July 14, 1789, has been commemorated around the world because it is linked to the broader themes of universal rights and Enlightenment ideals that also influenced the American Revolution. Although the actual event had little immediate impact, it became a powerful symbol of rebellion against injustice, particularly the unequal tax system that burdened the middle class while exempting the wealthy.
The French Revolution evolved from a tax revolt into a movement that sought to transform society based on principles like liberty, equality, and the sovereignty of the people. Despite efforts at reform — including ending feudal privileges, standardizing systems, and weakening the church's power — the Revolution descended into chaos and violence, especially during the Reign of Terror.
Still, the Revolution ultimately aimed to remake society around ideals that remain relevant today: individual freedom, social equality, and universal human rights
Shocking as the horrible torture and murder in Jasper is, anti-African-American racial violence is, in fact, not new in Texas. It’s been going on since Reconstruction.
Attitudes towards blacks were, of course, formed earlier, during slavery, when African-Americans were not considered persons, but property that could be disposed of at will.
After the Civil War, Southerners did not change their two centuries-old attitudes. In fact, although they lost the war, Southerners attempted to reinstate slavery through a variety of indirect ways.
To counter this, reformers in the North, set out to reconstruct Southern society. The Army reoccupied the South, voided the elections of hundreds of officials and, with the assistance of black voters, replaced them with men who respected the freedom and rights of African-Americans.
Some Southerners, including Texans, reacted by donning white robes and hoods, the symbols of the Ku Klux Klan, and whipping, maiming and hanging African-Americans in order to prevent them from voting.
Without the black vote, Reconstruction governments left once the Army withdrew. By 1876, the remaining vestiges of Reconstruction in Texas were gone.
The wave of violence also coincided with the introduction of the railroads and a rapid expansion of cotton, which resulted in the dislocation of many whites and the frustrating indenture of all to the economic forces of the North.
Violence against African-Americans returned during the depression of the 1890s. An average of 18 blacks were lynched in Texas every week during that decade.
And discrimination increased. Landless black tenant farmers, for example, planted “at quarters” (of the crop) while whites rented land “at halves.” Additionally, arcane legal traditions prevented African-Americans from voting, and informal traditions of segregation became fixed in the 1890s.
A second Ku Klux Klan appeared in Texas and elsewhere in the 1920s. This “new Klan” was more formally organized than had the post-Reconstruction Klan and had wider participation by ordinary citizens. The new Klan was anti-African-American, but it was also anti-immigrant and anti-Catholic.
It was vehemently anti-urban and anti-the-new-morality. New farming technology drove millions of Americans from the rural areas to the cities, and life in the city resulted in serious emotional dislocation.
African-Americans also moved to the cities and beyond the Mason-Dixon line. There, they cut into public sector jobs and other lower-income positions held by some whites.
Outside the South, blacks did not have their movement legally restricted, but their presence in public places continually tested their supposed equality. The large presence of the Klan in the Midwest — including huge parades in major cities — certainly reflects this change.
The Texas Klan fizzled out by the 1930s as folks adjusted to urban life and as Klan prosperity reached more African-Americans than ever before.
A third Klan appeared in the early 1960s, during a decade of considerable social activism. As African-Americans experienced a major demographic presence, mostly in the inner city, poor whites and Mexican-Americans also, in proportion, experienced more exposure than ever before — in new, urban schools.
The Vietnam War raged unendingly, and the economic changes that we are now experiencing — the decline of skilled manufacturing jobs, with the accompanying shift to service jobs — began to make their appearance in the ’60s.
Additionally, the civil rights movement attempted to level the playing field across the nation, dislocating whites who assumed certain jobs would be theirs. This disruption of the social order created a frustration that was taken out through violence against African-Americans.
Since the mid-1990s, the nation has begun to feel the pain of the new economy: the proliferation of low-wage occupations that do not allow workers to acquire new skills and are correctly perceived to be dead-end jobs.
Men and women entering the work world today cannot expect to improve their earning abilities. Hence, the continued increase in the need for second and third jobs, which brings frustration and weariness that explode in violence.
Clearly, the pattern is there across American history. Economic dislocations engender rage and racism, and the horror of Jasper happens.
We have little control over economic change, but we can end the racist part of the equation.
Immigrants? It’s the Economy (Abridged)
Gilberto Hinojosa
Claims that the U.S.-Mexico border is "out of control" overlook the historical and economic reality: immigration flows are driven more by labor demand than by government enforcement.
Despite increased Border Patrol funding and personnel, undocumented immigration continues because American businesses rely on cheap labor, especially in agriculture, food service, and construction. Employers benefit, and so do consumers through lower costs.
Historically, the border has never been tightly controlled. In the 1800s and early 1900s, goods and labor moved freely across it. Mexican laborers filled economic needs without restrictions, and even after immigration rules were introduced in 1924, enforcement remained lax.
It wasn't until economic downturns—like the Great Depression, the 1950s recession ("Operation Wetback"), and the 1980s recession—that major deportation efforts occurred. Each time, immigration enforcement increased not because of national security, but because of economic pressures.
Even modern reforms, like employer sanctions and ID checks, are often bypassed. So proposals to build fences or militarize the border may slow immigration, but they won’t stop it as long as labor demand persists.
A better long-term solution is to work with Mexico to improve economic conditions. Yet, this indirect approach is politically difficult to promote to American voters.
Consider Immigration Reforms (Abridged)
Gilberto Hinojosa
Mexico’s emigration to the U.S. serves as a safety valve for its economy and benefits the U.S. by supplying needed labor. Immigrants help lower costs in construction, food processing, elder care, and other services, while money sent home (remesa) remains Mexico’s largest income source.
Despite a cooling U.S. economy, immigration is unlikely to slow. In fact, economic hardship in Mexico may increase the flow northward. The U.S. must develop thoughtful immigration policies that align with economic realities rather than resist them.
Experts like Harvard’s George Borjas and Cornell’s Vernon Briggs suggest focusing on skilled immigrants to boost economic growth. Others, like Richard Lamm and Alan Simpson, voice concerns about cultural shifts—but such worries may be overstated.
Current policy, focused on family unification and occasional amnesty, doesn’t meet labor needs. Critics calling for strict law enforcement ignore the practical demand for workers. The system remains overwhelmed and inconsistent.
One proposed solution is a new guest-worker program. While past efforts like the Bracero Program had issues, many prefer them over open borders. Legalizing a limited, skills-based immigration system—similar to Canada’s—could be more effective and fair.
Professor Kevin Johnson recommends raising legal immigration caps to 2 million annually and replacing the Euro-centric Diversity Visa Program with a more equitable system based on skills and education.
In short, piecemeal but pragmatic reforms would serve U.S. interests and could be useful negotiating points with Mexico.
Time for America to pay its bills for cheap labor
by Gilberto M. Hinojosa:
Abridged Version:
The U.S. benefits from cheap immigrant labor but resists taking responsibility for the basic needs of these workers. Proposition 187, which denies services to undocumented immigrants, is immoral because it ignores the reality that America has long profited from their labor.
Rather than scapegoating immigrants, real solutions include fair wages, non-discriminatory border enforcement, welfare reform that supports work, and foreign policies that help Mexico’s economy.
Illegal immigration persists because many benefit from it: employers, consumers, retailers, and even U.S. businesses in Mexico. Immigrants live in fear, pay taxes, and often return home, creating a cycle that businesses rely on.
Historically, immigration has been allowed when labor was needed and restricted during economic downturns. Government responses, such as Operation Wetback and the Border Patrol, reflect this pattern.
Ultimately, immigrants are not just laborers — they are people with families and needs. The so-called immigration “crisis” is largely economic and fueled by political fear-mongering and racism. If America uses immigrant labor, it must also share the responsibility of caring for those workers.
Abridged Version
The Fourth of July sparks memories of the family’s immigrant journey. my grandfather, Papá Jesús, reluctantly left Mexico at 52 but taught others to respect the American flag as the symbol of the country where they earned their living. My father came to the U.S. young, learned English, and embraced the American Melting Pot, despite witnessing discrimination and hardship.
His mother, a schoolteacher from Mexico, became American in her own way, especially through her love of Thanksgiving. Although she maintained traditional Mexican ways at home, she praised the uniqueness of this country’s setting aside a day to thank God for our blessings.
My brother and I were raised speaking Spanish, steeped in Mexican history and culture, but also recited the Pledge of Allegiance and attended U.S. schools. We spent summers in Mexico and lived in a segregated Texas town with strong ties to their heritage, but grew up as Mexican Americans.
My daughters reflect this dual identity: one is an artist inspired by Mexican religious and cultural symbols, the other is bilingual and bicultural. This family story echoes in the spirit of Independence Day celebrations across the nation.
Abridged Version:
Confidence through integration
Cal Thomas called for mass deportations to build national confidence. However, targeting immigrants is misguided and harmful, especially in times of national crisis.
Historically, immigrants—especially from Mexico—have contributed significantly to the U.S. economy by taking low-wage, labor-intensive jobs. Most pay taxes, avoid public services, and support their families. During economic downturns, many return home, but today’s strict border enforcement prevents this natural flow, pushing more immigrants to settle permanently.
Anti-immigrant rhetoric often spikes during economic struggles, as seen during the Great Depression, the 1950s, and the 1980s. These crackdowns also affected U.S. citizens of Mexican descent, not just undocumented immigrants.
Integration rather than deportation will promote national confidence. Mo
Abridged Version:
Generations of Mexican Americans
Worked for Related Goals
At the posthumous awarding of the nation’s Medal of Freedom
to Willie Velásquez, U.S. Rep. Henry B. González’s office released a statement
praising Willie’s work on behalf of the voting rights of Hispanics. The action
drew attention because, back in the 1960s, Gonzalez and the Chicano
“firebrands,” including Velásquez, had practically come to blows over
strategies and ideologies. It was largely a generational struggle.
The Mexican (immigrant) generation would not have been a
part of that fight. The million immigrants who arrived from Mexico between 1910
and 1930 were concerned mostly with survival. They endured a severe cultural
attack – they were called “dirty Mesicans” and suffered great exploitation.
They managed, in part, by forming self-help societies and patriotic
organizations. Little by little, whether they became citizens or not, they made
this their new land, buying homes and sending the children to school.
The Mexican American generation took the next step. In the
1930s and ‘40s, U.S.-born and educated activists launched a massive civil
rights movement embodied by the League of United Latin American Citizens, or
LULAC. Generally, these leaders came from middle- and upper-class families
driven into exile by Mexico’s Revolution of 1910. As elites, they and their
children naturally took leadership roles in the Mexican American community,
most of which was composed of laborers. The sons and daughters of the elites
were among the first to finish school and go to college in the United States.
Coming from this background, González had worked with
community organizations before getting into politics. He was always very
committed to the interests of working people, but he was far from being
radical. Indeed, his generation was very optimistic about making the American
system work.
Many of the members of the next group, the Chicano
generation of the 1960s, came from families that had moved up from laborers to
skilled workers after World War II. The new generation had great expectations
and was not convinced that the system was really open and fair. It was their
radical language that scared Gonzalez and others. Specifically, the younger set
was not satisfied with the structural reforms of their elders. After decades of
exclusion and oppression, radical solutions were necessary to make Mexican Americans
full participants in American life.
A massive voter-education program, such as the one proposed
by Velásquez, gave power to local voters who were later organized by groups
such as San Antonio’s Communities Organized for Public Service (COPS). Velásquez’s
commitment to empowering ordinary people took him throughout the Southwest. At
his funeral in 1988, a fellow worker recalled the remark of a viejecito
(old man) in some one-stop-light West Texas town, explaining his own and the townspeople’s
involvement in politics: “Por acá anduvo El Willie (Willie was by here).” Velásquez
had touched and changed their lives.
Ultimately, of course, González’s strategy of structural
change and Velásquez’s work to empower people were not as radically different
as they seemed in the ‘60s. Those of Willie’s generation have come to
appreciate the road opened – and maintained open – by González and LULAC, the
G.I. Forum, and others. The older generation also has seen some of the dreams
of those behind them come closer to becoming true.
The reconciliation was overdue.
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