Week 4 Blog Post: Mexican-American Identity


Mi querida,

I’m fighting with myself to try and understand if you would like it here. There’s palm trees, sun, and when you get to the coast, the only thing that stretches out in front of you is the ocean. But it is different than what you—or I—am used to. Those of us here are working to build a community, one that can nearly rival the types of communities we are used to. But I’m beginning to become less confident if what we’re trying to do in Los Angeles will ever be able to rival the small villages and beautiful plazas of our homeland. In every inch of every town in Mexico there’s life. Our streets are teeming with it, our people are full of it, it’s in our blood. Los Angeles is different. While there are pockets of life, and while our people try to create life where they can, it doesn’t run in every street, every corner of the city. You have to seek it out, look for it, and trust that if you keep searching, it will be there.

That being said, I’m not sure that you, or the children, would be happy here. I’ll stay and keep working so that I can send home money, and maybe some toys for the children. That’s what most men around here like me are doing. I live with a couple of them, and at night we talk and reminisce about what it’s like back home. I feel close to them, and I'm sure they feel close to me. This small community of us, all living in one house, is the closest thing I have to our barrio. I’m struggling because this country, and city, seem full of opportunity. Well, more opportunity than there is back home. But I’m not sure if that opportunity is something worth staying here for, something that can root me—or us—and make this place feel like home. I know a lot of men come here and it takes them years to return to Mexico, or they just send for their families and stay here forever. I can assure you, I won’t be like that. I’ll return within months, or otherwise have you here with me. I won't have it any other way. 

Siempre Besos

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