Date: Sun, 26 Jan 1997 01:24:11 -0500 From: Charlie Ford Subject: In Hispanic America First let me say I still am having bus problems, just after my most recent post, it started the same symptons again. But for now I need to lay that siade and write a bit about my week here in the Barrio of Austin, Texas. In southern Georgia where i'm from, the migrant farmworker (mostly hispanic) has become a permanant fixture of the local residency. These people, these americans, except of course for a few illegals and very few at that, have become a strong labor force in the farm regions of the south. To be honest they have filled much of the gap that was left by the now welfare recipients, and they inturn are quickly on their way to that same dependency. I am not flaming any race in saying this, I am flaming the government for allowing it to happen. I am one that believes we need to revamp the whole system. Over time the migrant hispanics of the south have seen ridicule and praise. The towns people can't seem to find trust for them, and the farmer praises thier work ethic. Just like other minorities dwealing in this and other regions of the states. For some reason we whites and some affluent minorities in America have grown so comfortable in our residency that we have forgotten that at one time our forefathers were foriegners also, some by will, some forced. We seem to have forgotten that we are all of another decent, except for the native Americans, which by the way also influence this hardworking portion of the United States (wander what the United part means). On my way through Oklahoma I thought of the "Trail of tears" with admiration for the people we call indians, and shame for us for being so intrusive and savage. If it were not for them, the pilgrims wouldn't have made it in the first few weeks of habitation in this new "free" land. For the past week I have been living in the southeast district of Austin. This is where the low income, blue collar hispanic laborer lives. The entire nieghborhood is full of pure-blooded or hybrid hispanic households. None of them are rich, but just like any other nieghborhood or community there are variances in economic standing. There is an elderly gentleman across the street that tends his yard with a rake each day. Directl across the street another yard of another resident looks as if grass just won't grow thier, maybe because of all the cars and trucks that pull into it. But the other afternoon I saw the two of them laughing and talking and doing what neighbors do "being neighborly". I have found these local residents to be very nice in welcoming this gringo that came into their midst driving a KaKa brown VW bus, and sporting a southern drawl and a goatee to boot. There is a small corner market across the street where folks buy milk, beer, and light sacks of groceries. This store, called the Breadbasket Market appears to be a hub for this community, it is their convienience store. It has a small taco resturaunt on one end of the building called Poforio's which I have found to be most suitable to one's taste and budget, that is given of course you like Mexican food and saving money all at the same time. The folks that run it, and the store next door are cordial and talkative. They smile and say hello when I walk in the door, and offer a hearty "thanks" when I pay for my purchase. As far as I can tell they regard race as just another part of the person like an arm or a leg. Just something else that is component of being human. The kids of the nieghborhood gather at this store, show off thier latest shoes and "fellowship" (the way youth do) on the weekend nights. Today driving along Holly street, there were people sitting on their front porches, washing their cars, kids were roller blading in the parking lot at the Catholic church down the street, and generally living in the shangra-la of any "Happy Days" episode. Folks were walking thier dogs, sweeping thier drives, listneing to the radio, and tending thier young offspring. Life was good on Holly Street in Austin! My job for the day was to work with an AmeriCorps group from here in Austin. I taught them some skills needed to deliver service. These folks of all ages are going to be spending their year serving foster children around the city in different roles such as mentoring, tutoring, counseling, and recreational activities. This group ranged in age from 18 to 55 and the diversity was representative of hispanic, anglo, and an asian Amercan. There was one guy that had the impairment of being deaf. He could only speak with the clarity he has acquired over many years of speech therapy. This gentleman and the rest of this group humbled me so much that on the way back to my temporary residence, and even after the resurrection of my bus problem, I could only think how trivial my problems are as compared to the populations they are about to serve, and how it would feel to not be able to hear a baby cry or my bus skip a beat. I have learned in this week of living in hard metro Austin that anglo's, hispanics, and all other races can live around one another and thrive with great community as long as they work to build it. Being from the south, I have been exposed to racism of one sort or another most of my life. I have seen folks cut down because of their name, their economic gain, their vocation, and their foriegn upbringing. In this past week I have learned much about diversity, and how to accept more of it. Like most folks I still hold on to some of my discriminations and prejudices. But after this week I think I will be more attentive to the culture and less attentive to cultural standing. I believe I will be more open to learning why they are like they are, rather than how I might influence them to be more like me. I pray I will be more acceptant of the fact that all are human, and color is just something that we see at the surface. I think I will try to imagine what it would be like to be them, rather than jump to the conclusion that they are bad people. All races have different levels of success, and the guage of that always seems to come down to money, or the house we live in, or what type car we drive. Maybe all of us could stand a week or so getting to know what it feels like to live in another nieghborhood of the town we call home. I wonder how many bridges would be built, and how many problems would be avoided. Just a thought. There is an old saying about folks being able to "pick their friends, but not their relatives". Well, I don't guess you can really pick your race either if you think about it. Maybe that is my motive for writing this, to bring that to be part of the consideration. Thanks for tolerating my rambling, Charlie Ford "79" Transporter, dressed for the road The Mothership The"Turning 40 Nostalgic VW Service Tour, and Search for the Beginning of Wind". www.armory.com/~y21cvb/charlie/charlie.html "Wider still and wider.....shall thy bounds be set"