Författare: xikano_2

For too long I was embarrased of my Xicano accent. Frankly. I cringed into a hell of angst and embarrassment whenever my i’s* faltered and betrayed an otherness that was far from the american ideal.

Here in Europe I can retrace and notice this patttern of linguistic perfection sought out by english monolinguals in proper 51 and a DC. Spanish people can still notice whenever someone says a double ll in the form of a y or whenever someone pronounces their z’s like s’s. Sweden is the same, you can’t pronounce a word wrong because all hell breaks loose.

The same way in WASP land. Since they only speak english they tend to be preservationists of a sort.

People will actually doubt if you are an American based on the way you pronounce your english, such are the state of things in our beloved Area 51.

So I cringed and hurriedly tried to cover up my imagined nakedness. I felt uncovered.

*Jejeje, I wrote this back before the Blog Era, check it out, however, if you don’t wanna here is the relevant snippet for this piece:

In my first year of study, that would be Winter 2000, I studied phonetics which was as strange to me as the relativity theory. At any rate, the book assigned for the reading is titled `On Pronounceable English’ by David Minugh, (a New Yorker) University of Stockholm 1991 (Corrected Edition). On page 47 you’ll find how to pronounce the vowel `i’ as in /sit/. Along that pronounciation there is a word of caution, get aload of this, and I quote ” …But if you pronounce an accented /I/ like /i:/, as in >>kid , kidnapper< <, you will sound like the stereotype Mexican bandit!" Talk about a 60's flashback.

It cracks me up. One of the things that I fight and strive for in this blog is to defend our nativeness. For far too long have been led to believe that we are immigrants, illegals, and other nonnative beings that one easily bypasses the fact that we are Americans inasmuch as George Washington was one. Through time and bad policy the American narrative has made us look like anything but Americans. As if the Southwest has always been ruled by white America. That is their greatest victory, that they managed to convince us that we do not belong there.

So I find it funny how this kind of situation still happens.

MAPISTAS & the GREENPARTY ( El Partido Verde) want nuestra Gente to know that the forced shipping out of nuestra gente, back to Mexico, in 1929-1944 , under “The Mexican Repatriation Program,” that saw 400,000 American citizens of Mexican descent illegally sent off to Mexico, has been repudiated by an overwhelming vote in the California Senate! SB670 and SB 645, authored by Joseph Dubb (D-Orange County), establishes that a Commission will make recommendations as to what the appropriate monetary compensation can be made to the victims of this racist act that was carried out upon Mexican Americans of the State of California. Those wanting further information contact Hugo Vera, President of The Sacramento Mexican American Political Association or your Assembly Representative or Senator in Sacramento.

Not lon ago yet in eon years blogwise, Elena my buddy, pal, amiga, compa, friend and all that wondered about Spreading God’s Love. I even added my two centavos to the issue.

Today I find two of my favorite blogs in that isue wondering about the issues that so gives so much food for thought.

he reflects on how different people are the further they come from. Something that has always intrigued me is how few groups from San Diego come down to work with us. We have groups from all over the states, the western half of Canada and one group who comes every year from Australia to serve the people of Tijuana, but very few from within a hundred miles of the border.

Read the rest here.

It gives such a nice glimpse into that world that so otherwise passes unnoticed in my city. Cool.

I remember rather clearly
how the cherry tree
blossomed after a long winters rest …

extra extra : nordic sea winds sweep swedish highlands
though caressing blow kissed the white lilly petals …

it was the time of dispersement
the cherry tree’s flowers
flew aided by the airs …

My green grass filled with spring petals
I remembered autumn that day …
white lilly red petals
of the cherry tree flowers
strewn about my green Savannah…

The apple tree too
furnished the lawn
with white red petals of its own

seems my tongue will
caress its paladar
with swedish red cherries and yellow apples again …

I remember with great joy my college days at San Diego City College. Back in those days schools didn’t give a damn fuck whether one was an illegal alien or not, what mattered was to get educated at all costs. It was a breeding ground for other sorts of nationalism back then, such as the raising of this Xicano can attest.

I particularly cherish those memories when the teacher would come in to the classroom, everybody would greet the teach with a cheerful Good Morning! smile and all and a few waved their hands in the air.

A particular form of resistance to assimilation was to remind people of their place: I would say: Buenos Dí­as!

This brought upon a host of chuckles and giggles from those present …aaah, those were the days.

Just for the record am rather unhappy with the css layout of this site. Geronimo sits and nods. His comanche compadres from Texas have come to zip coffee from Chiapas, a gesture I had to force myself do in order to appease all the elders that hang out here including grumpy grandpa who complains that they are all nothing but freeloaders. Man, am running some sort of convalescent home or something.

-Solidarity my ass I said, it all comes from my pockets ese and revenues aren’t exactly rolling in homes.

Though I caved in at the very last since my eye caught sight of some very angry Yaqui folk gathering with some Navajo folk outside by my 1956 Chevy looking at it with their magical eyes. I said, je!, pinches dólares, what are they for anyway?

The beans came the other day and like out of thin air everybody came to see the wonder beans handpicked by lacandona maya indians and they all wanted to hear the letter SubMarcos sent along.

They seem to still have a sort of a hangover because Corky Gonzales appeared in their midst. The last I heard was Qvole! and suddenly there they were, Reis Tijerina, who by the by, still owes a few thoughts at the offices of Yonder Lies It, Gloria Anzaldúa, Chalino Sánchez, Henry B Gonzales and César Chávez. Heck, I was taken aback at the sudden presence of these great ones.

Acá in Sweden the reports of the LA Mayoral race have come in odd tones. It was brought to my attention by erudite Tomas Rivera, what’s up with that he said, cómo que gang member becomes mayor of LA?

All I could say was that I was sending a letter of protest for the inapropiate heading in that piction, though no promises are made.

That’s when I snapped, don’t you guys have anything else to do other than come to breath down my neck ese?

Just when you thought it couldn’t become more obvious …

The future in a video game …

http://www.aztlanrpg.net/

Reading this article am inspired to write the following

I have stated numerous times that the idea of returning the Southwest to México (a preposterous idea if there ever was one) would be detrimental to our culture, the pachuc@, chol@, lowrider, poch@, malinche, chican@, xican@ culture. The moment that the Southwest lands in the hands of México we cease to be all that has happened between now and 1846.

What makes us us is the very conflict that breeds between the two cultures.

However, I must admit that the polarization of the Aztlán homeland is taking place as we speak. Aztlán has reached a critical moment in US history, Aztlán is finally a discourse in American politics and a tool to defeat opponents in democratic held elections, people are taking a stand on Aztlán. The myth of Aztlán is competing with the myth of the American Dream head on.

Though we at the offices of Yonder Lies It insist that the fundamental question that needs an urgent addressing is our stance as americans, that what we as the Xican@ culture of this century must assert is our americanness. Which is far more important than discussing the corner alley impossibility of returning the Southwest to México because the Southwest is not comprissed of one ethnic group anymore and we must respect that, show them that we are different from them.

***

Reasons to turn the tables around in the national discourse for the soul of the Southwest and our denied americanness:

We have assimilated no matter what Huntington says or others attest. Our imagination includes Bejamin Franklin, Abe Lincoln and Ralph Emerson to name just a few of the voices that run in our conscience and we speak inglés. Nor have we only assimilated the gringo lifestyle, we have taken it as our own, that it differs from the more WASP vision and its racist legacy is another matter; in fact, we have stretched out a hand numerous times to those Other Americans yet they continuously refuse to shake our hand. They belittle our culture and refuse to acknowledge us as a people. When will they assimilate to us? When will they speak spanish?

We are a culture that the rest of America doesn’t know or isn’t aware that we have a huge lot in common. This needs to change and be transmitted to the rest of America: we have always existed and it is time they stop denying our existence. If Washington fails to stop this the spiral towards confrontation and ethnic cleansing is at hand. Do we really want a repeat of that in our history books?

Aztlán is no threat to the fabric of the US, what is a threat is the very denial of Aztlán and regard it as a foreign influence when it happens to be an american idea in par with the American Dream just like apple pie is.

Here in Sweden ears see english and eyes hear english. It is a second language or an unoffical language. It is a bastard child no one wants to admit as their own; they refer to it as frí¤mmande. Which is to say strange, frí¤mmande is also a word they use when they have guests in their house, har du frí¤mma? Do you have strangers at your house? So english here has quite a few speakers who will readily admit to you that they aren’t english speakers at all, kind of reminds me of my swedish. I will readily admit to anyone and everyone that I do not speak swedish though I join the million immigrants that speaks one form or another of swedish.

I thought about this the other day.

The curious thing about it is that society just goes about without giving it much thought. This despite that one of the industries that Sweden exports the most is music, yes, in english. Teachers at the University of Stockholm also go about without giving this idea of english as an unoficial language very much tought; they teach it as a foreign language even though english lessons are given to children already in grade three.

When is language a mothertongue?

So here I am teaching english to english speakers. Who am I to correct an english that has millions of speakers who live in denial they don’t speak english at all?

I thought about this the other day.

My own dialect, Chicano English suffered, and probably still suffers, the lashings of WASP people who have considered our way of pronouncing english wrong. And here I am correcting others how to pronounce english, an unwilling participant of this charade ….