The changing faces of immigration
“California – the state that had once advertised for more migrant workers – found itself overwhelmed by up to 7,000 new migrants a month, more migrants than they needed… the Los Angeles Police Department sent 136 deputies to the state lines to turn back migrants who didn’t have any money…but the migrants kept coming.”
This description of social crisis appears in the Living History Farm article “Farming in the 1930s.” It documents the influx of English, Irish, German, and Scandinavian descendents from the Dust Bowl region to California. Author John Steinbeck shocked the nation with his tale of poverty and prejudice, “The Grapes of Wrath.” My own father was among those who left Oklahoma to pick cotton in the San Joaquin Valley.
My mother’s family settled in central California from Guanajuato, Mexico. She met my father working at Libby’s fruit packing house, and, after WWII, they married. This is how I found myself with one foot in each culture. Although my mother was bilingual, we did not speak Spanish in our home. My parents felt that English was essential for success in school. The downside, which I still regret, was my inability to communicate with my maternal grandparents, who lived next door and spoke only Spanish.
My personal migration happened when I moved to Sonoma in 1971. Sonoma was very small, quiet, and white. As an instructional aide for Migrant Education, I was ordered off campus by an elementary school principal who was suspicious of our efforts to help the farm workers’ children. That only strengthened my determination to represent mi gente.
This eventually led to my joining Sonoma’s Cultural and Fine Arts Commission. There was much talk about General Vallejo and the Seven Flags, but inreality, no Mexican people ever came to the Plaza. The Commission presented its first Cinco de Mayo celebration with mariachis and baile folklorico in 1991, one of the proudest moments of my life.
Recently in an adult ESL class, a Mexican student asked me, “Maestra, why don’t the Americans like us?” — a sad but reasonable question given that the local economy depends on their labor. Thinking back on the writings of Steinbeck and others who have tried to sort out the love-hate relationship this country has had with its immigrants, I replied, “Because it’s your turn.” I explained how the Irish, Jews, Chinese, and Okies were despised when they first arrived, but they persevered. Be patient, I advised, and if you choose to stay, your children and grandchildren will be the business leaders, professionals, decision makers – those in power.
Experience has taught me that the faces, skin color, and language may change, but there will always be new immigrants. Resentment towards them contradicts the reality of their contribution to our community. While Sonoma Valley barrios do not replicate the Depression Hoovervilles, a racial/economic divide undeniably exists. Historian James N. Gregory points out, “Poverty has many faces. Disparaging the victim is senseless and cruel, and the poor and helpless of one era will hopefully escape that fate in the next.” The new era of expanding cultural presence for Latinos in California, in Sonoma, has arrived.
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I am a relative whose mother was a Carr from Oklahoma. I live in South Texas and taught ESL as well. I live in Corpus Christi, TX, where as an anglo, I had to fight to use a bilingual grant to get my ESL endorsement. I experienced discrimination from the Hispanic community in Robstown,TX where I had my first teaching job. The Hispanic community where I live is about 65% of the population.My students and I got along very well, but I found the same kind of discrimination migrants experience from the “educated” Hispanics towards the “migrant and immigrant” population of Hispanics. To say I was shocked by the behavior of educated Hispanics towards “their own” is mild. There are no words to express the lack of benevolence and loyalty I found in Robstown. I still see an occasional student who will remind me I taught them. I still do not understand why the ‘educated” ones could not say please and thank you to our students, nor can I ever understand the lack of love for those students. Most foreign nationals new to our country have great respect for teachers, far more than many of those born in this country. They also have great respect for what education can do for them.