Ask a Mexican: When Did Illegal Immigration Really Start?

Ask a Mexican: When Did Illegal Immigration Really Start?

Dear Mexican: I work with mostly young, progressive, educated white folks at an institution of higher education in Southern California. The other day, I mentioned buying a shirt that reads “Illegal immigration started in 1492.” We had a good laugh, and my co-worker, whom I like a lot, said that it actually began in the Ice Age, suggesting that no one kind of human has claim over “land” or geography. While I get her argument, I was stunned. A flippant response like that diminishes the struggles of people trying to make a life here, under adverse conditions, having fled other adverse conditions, and the systematic historical exceptionalism mythology, jingoism, xenophobia and racism that has created the current state of affairs. Can you give me a good comeback for when an otherwise cool gabacho says some similar bullshit?
A Chicana in the Hallowed Halls of Learning

Dear Pocha: You can note that attachment to a vanquished homeland is a fundamental part of the human experience — but did you try “Check your privilege”? How about “We didn’t cross the border; the border crossed us”? Maybe “Who’s the illegal alien, pilgrim?”? Or “Vete a la chingada, pinche sucia pendeja babosa”? I know you’re looking for an intellectual retort, but even Kant knew that a well-thrown verbal chingazo makes the best possible point.

Dear Mexican: I am in Big Brothers Big Sisters, and my little sister is a smart, kind, beautiful twelve-year-old Mexican girl. Since we became sisters three years ago, she has been telling me all about what she wants for her quince. Although her parents don’t have much money, they try very hard to do special things for their kids. Today her mother told me that they are not going to have the money for a quinceañera party. Instead, they want to take a trip to the beach — my sister loves the beach — and save the rest of the money for her education. I would like to do something special for her that captures the spirit of a quinceañera celebration but without the traditional party. However, I have no idea what that might be. Can you help me figure out what a girl needs on her quince to feel special and celebrated?
Happy to Be a Güera Hermana

Dear Gabacha: Primeramente, throw the chingones parents a party for breaking the chains of quinceañera nonsense. Not spending tens of thousands of dollars on one day of a teenager’s life in order to save for her education? What a novelty! That said, a beach party quinceañera is not only feasible, but would be more memorable than any rented VFW hall. Check into reserving a big section of sand, tell the parents to invite her friends and family, and watch how happy your hermanita will be.


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