I’ve been keeping busy with schooling grandkids, and we found out late last week that in person school here will not be returning until late October at the earliest. It was a stressful week as the school board and teachers’ union was negotiating a Memorandum of Understanding around the return to school. My daughter is a Middle School Resource teacher, and we have a 2nd grader and a Transitional Kindergarten, (basically pre-K), all impacted by their decision.
Long story short, I’ve been dealing with the risk of a possible return to in-person school, and a never ending stream of republican crap. Therefore, I haven’t been able to prepare a totally cogent diary for this week.
I really wanted to do something to acknowledge Hispanic Heritage Month because I always try to honor and celebrate these moments for groups, and my heritage is being recognized in this month.
But what to write about? The young Mexican, Puerto Rican girl that was at the center of the lawsuit to desegregate Los Angeles schools?
Perhaps the Pew Research study on how Hispanics & Latinos in this country view themselves?
What it means to be Hispanic can vary across the group. Hispanics most often say speaking Spanish is an essential part of what being Hispanic means to them, with 45% saying so. Other top elements considered to be part of Hispanic identity include having both parents of Hispanic ancestry (32%) and socializing with other Hispanics (29%). Meanwhile, about a quarter say having a Spanish last name (26%) or participating in or attending Hispanic cultural celebrations (24%) are an essential part of Hispanic identity. Lower shares say being Catholic (16%) is an essential part of Hispanic identity. (A declining share of U.S. Hispanic adults say they are Catholic.) Just 9% say wearing attire that represents their Hispanic origin is essential to Hispanic identity.
Or a small, but personal story of pain and loss?
They issue an alert to find Sergio Sepúlveda Barrera, 67, who is a teacher at UDEM and disappeared 3 days ago in Cumbres.
Sergio is my cousin. His mother and my father are 1st cousins. The summer I spent in the Rio Grande Valley included a week or more in Monterrey, Mexico, staying with his family. He and his brother Juan drove us around town, mostly to go visit another cousin at his home or country club. I was shocked to see his picture in this tweet because I remember him as a handsome young man who was still being chaperoned on dates. How did he get so old?
More importantly, who kidnapped him and why?
One of my first cousins in Texas is the one that informed our family and is in touch with Sergio’s sister. She has traveled to Mexico to oversee the search. She has resigned herself to the realization that he has probably been killed. Not unusual in Mexico which has been ravaged by corruption and the impact of drug cartels for decades.
I have no doubt that Sergio was an upright citizen. He was a beloved professor at the University of Monterrey. But perhaps he spoke out about corruption? That could have put a target on him from either the government or a cartel group. I’m not sure we’ll ever know.
His disappearance hit me hard, despite not seeing him for decades. My memories of that visit focused on their beautiful home with a marble floor entrance and spiral staircase. It was an older home in a neighborhood that was being surrounded by industry. Sergio’s mother laughed when she explained why they didn’t need a refrigerator, they still had an ice box — they just went shopping everyday :)
Driving around that city I was exposed to a level of poverty I had never seen before. At the other end of the spectrum, we were also treated to several excursions to another cousin’s country club; we had never experienced that before as well. I also remember walking a block or two to a small grocery store and buying a Coca Cola for an empty bottle and a peso, ~ 8 cents at the time. My brothers and I lived on Coca Cola that summer. We also saw several movies — The Exorcist in Spanish, and a James Bond movie in English.
Perhaps his disappearance hit hard because I had a real remembrance to a relative that still lived in Mexico, my father’s country, and my heritage.
Even as a very young child I recognized my heritage. My last name said it all, although I have pale skin and blue eyes, and not just from my mother’s side of the family. My parents did not teach us Spanish because of their concern about discrimination. We ate home cooked Mexican food occasionally. Usually enchiladas with the usual sides of rice and beans. I will never forget the sound of the boiled pinto beans hitting the preheated cast iron skillet for a quick fry before serving. It meant that dinner was just about ready. My mother made that meal several times a year, because it required most of the day in the kitchen, frying, filling and rolling 6 dozen tortillas to feed our large family. The rice and beans were also homemade. My father would make menudo a couple of times a year. I know most people find it disgusting, but we loved it. He would also be the one who “counted” the pintos on Sunday mornings when enchiladas or arroz con pollo were on the dinner menu. Counting beans really meant going through the dry beans by hand to remove any stones or bad beans before boiling. To this day, I still call it counting beans when I do the same task.
Oh, and this tool — I grew up calling it a bean masher, not a potato masher.
Contrary to the majority in the Pew Research project, I don’t comfortably speak Spanish, and only one of my parents is Mexican. But the pull of Mexican culture has always been there for me. When I hear the music, see the dancing, or smell the food. I proudly identify as Mexican American, and my daughters do too. They’re proud of their heritage, and it shows in their Spanish proficiency.
Lastly, if you are someone that prays, I ask for your prayers for the return of my cousin, Sergio.