Mexican-American Narrative

Juan Gonzalez uses Chapter 12: “Speak Spanish, You’re in America!: El Huracán over Language and Culture” of his novel Harvest of Empire: A History of Latinos in America to introduce a truly polarizing argument that has plagued the Latino community in the United States of America. Gonzalez is quick to point out that English is the common language in this country, though he is quicker to note that it should not necessarily be so. This author is so incredibly biased in this chapter that it is nearly impossible to disagree with his opinion without feeling like one is completely shutting out the entire Latino community. However, speaking as a member of this community, perhaps it is this unique insight that allows for not only a contending opinion, but also the framework to make the opinion relevant. Gonzalez makes brash claims with little supporting evidence and relies heavily on argumenta ad passiones to manipulate the reader’s emotions instead of focusing on rationalism and sound judgment. Quite possibly, it was the abundance of this logical fallacy that made it difficult to sympathize with his argument; though, it lays the basis for this chapter analysis.

As I stared into my reflection, I began questioning my identity. I felt as though the world was was condemning me for not fitting society’s image of the “typical Latino”. I began to hang my head down in shame. I was apprehensive to show my culture because I would be ridiculed for not being Latino enough.

My Hispanic culture is exceedingly unique contrast to other cultures because we have countless of beliefs, holidays, lifestyles, etc. My world of Hispanic culture raised me to become an independent and determined person because being the first generation of a Hispanic family to attend college has my family beyond thrilled for me to put value to our heritage. Putting value in our heritage is a magnificent emotion because people anticipate Hispanics to fail; but, we prove them wrong when we accomplish our goals. The Hispanic culture’s strength is unbelievably astonishing because we are ambitious of our dreams and we don’t cease until we fulfill our wish. Including the Hispanic culture at University of Washington may open people’s mind that we

Overall, the chapter, which focuses on “Hispanicity”, impacted me because I began to formulate ideas which opposed those that had been hammered into my mind all my life. For so long I had heard that minorities were victims to oppression by whites and for that reason minorities should strive to do more than what is expected from them. In reading Rodriguez’s claim, questions that had never been explored in my development arose in my mind such as “Are Hispanics really the victims?”, “Do Hispanics truly strive to their fullest to accomplish things that have never been done?”, and lastly, “Are Hispanics committing acts of hypocrisy?”. If a Hispanic

What are the experiences of Latina/Latino “Undocumented, Unafraid, and Unapologetic” (UUU) activist living in San Diego County, California under the Trump presidency? By UUU activist, I mean anyone who self-identifies as a Latina/Latino UUU activist, and is advocating, in any capacity, for affordable education for undocumented students, the DREAM act, DACA, and comprehensive immigration reform. Based on in-depth interviews in San Diego County, California, with Latinas and Latinos, over the age of eighteen, who self-identify as UUU activists, I will begin to address this question. A Latina/o critical race framework will guide the current study. The aim of my work is to capture the struggles, motivations, and challenges UUU activist face and

In the 1960’s the Chicano community undertook a unique, dramatic, and multifaceted social struggle of affirmation. This historic phase became more and more varied and complex then previous struggles (Maciel, 2010).

During the summer my family and me went on vacation to mexico to see my grandma at her house it took us 2 days to get to her town is mexico when we got there is was 11 at night my uncle opened the garage door to let us in when we got off the car my grandma opened the door to let us in her house she gave everyone a hug the her and my mom started to cook food for everyone. After everyone got their suitcases out of the car and took them to there room my mom and dad slept in one room, my sister and her daughter slept in another room and my nephew and me slept in the living room. The next day my dad showed me around the town he grew up in where his other family members who lived there, and his aunt who owns a store on the corner of the street. When

Every year I go to Mexico, during spring break and summer. It's always relaxing laying on the beach or going on a nice refreshing swim in the 70 degree water. It was an average day down in mexico during the summer of 2017; I remember my family and I relaxing at home after a long day on the boat. I was feeding the street dog because I could tell she was either having puppies, or already had puppies. She was starving to death, her ribs were showing, I knew I had to help her. I started feeding her three times a day so she could start producing milk if she’s already had the puppies; or so she could keep the puppies healthy while she was still pregnant. A few days later I walked outside to feed her, and I hear whimpering like the sound newborn puppies

The personal essay titled “The Space In-Between” by Santiago Quintana details the struggles he dealt with while trying to figure out his identity as a member of both the Mexican and American cultures. Even though Santiago was born and raised in Mexico, he was often questioned about his ethnicity because his physical appearance did not align with that of a “true Mexican.” Instead of having brown skin, black hair, and brown eyes, he has white skin, light brown hair, and blue eyes. Since Santiago looked so different, he was singled out, bullied, and treated as if he were a foreigner in his own country. The difficulties he faced clearly had numerous negative effects on him emotionally, however, there was an unexpected and overwhelmingly positive

This excerpt extensively covers and provides authentic history and experience pertaining to a very prevalent issue in not only Hispanic communities but black communities as well. While the situation contains differences which are expected due to the fact that Hispanic communities suffer this tragedy due to being a multilingual culture and having this culture essentially erased by the euro-centric habit of insisting upon assimilation by erasure and denial rather than assimilation by integration and acceptance. As a matter of fact another example, which is seemingly an even worse case than presented in the provided material, is the restriction and destruction of the Native American culture in nearly every aspect, while simultaneously spawning

When I was walking along a river to gather sticks for a fire and a lady came up to me and I quickly ran I jumped over rocks and made it across the river. I knew she had the black plague. When I knew she wasn’t following me, I stopped. I knew who she was, it was Annabeth’s mom. I had to tell her, so I went back to my treehouse where me and my friends hang out.

Currently, as stated above, our children are of ages five and nine. They truly are inextricable towards their father. Fernando Jr. Is currently in 3rd grade at elementary school. He is a very smart child and has a huge heart. On the other hand, Melissa, is truly full of energy, excitement, and is exceptionally intelligent. I know that as a mother, if I have to be away for awhile, it would be devastating for me. It would make me feel angered, anxious, and of course depressed. I would never want to come home to my kids not being able to greet their father like they usually do, with hugs and kisses. Also, knowing that I will not be able to have the financial support of my husband will devastate me. Currently my husband and I are employed. I am

The Latinos in my class differed in the way that they were proud to say they were Puerto Rican, Mexican, and Dominican. Thus, I pursued a relationship with these classmates and I began to feel differently about Latinos. I realized that I was taking part in the prejudice thoughts my previous classmates had toward Latinos by concealing my identity. I also recognized that Latinos were struggling to pursue a better life and that we are looked down upon. As a result of discrimination, it is difficult for us to accomplish our goals in life. Presently, every opportunity I get, I talk about my culture. I discuss the hardships Latinos face and I describe my experience growing up Puerto Rican. Although I am Puerto Rican, I don't know as much about my culture as I should. Reading Harvest of Empire: A History of Latinos in America by Juan Gonzalez has brought new insights to my knowledge of Puerto Ricans and Latinos in general. Gonzalez focuses on language and writes that speaking Spanish is treated as a handicap instead of as an asset.

It was difficult to comprehend the perception of those who were unconditionally giving. It was the endless smiles and the wide eyes full of admiration in which formed a gesture of gratitude that capitated my heart. It was when I traveled to Mexico that I was led to question my perception. Troubling my mind were the kids in innocent manner wearing the same outfit for the entire week and playing contently on the dirt roads. They looked up with love and gave us endless hugs as we passed by. As I notice their brick muddy houses, I saw how their parents worked day after day in an effort to feed their family, but without a doubt in their mind they came to offer us food. Even though they could not afford much they still wanted to make us feel welcome and with a heart full of content, they were happy with this decision.

Two years… It’s mind boggling to admit that it has been a full two years since my vacation in Mexico. So much time has passed, and yet, those memories still feel as bright and warm as the day they were made. I can still remember the excitement that coursed through my body as we left the airport, heading to our resort. I can still remember straining my ears to try and interpret the languages that were spoken around me, the kind smiles I’d receive once they realized I had no idea what they were saying. I can still remember the dancing rainbow I’d visit every night as the sun slowly crept below the ever-shifting blue horizon. If I close my eyes, it almost feels as though I’m back in Mexico, arriving once again for the first time, piling out of