Dear Mexican: Why Don't My Mexican Parents Care About Poor Mexicans? | Westword
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Dear Mexican: Why Don't My Mexican Parents Care About Poor Mexicans?

Dear Mexican: Why is it that Mexican immigrants like my parents, who have done well enough in this country to provide a home (a house, paid off in ten years, in white Orange County), an education, food, clothes and toys for their children, can complain about El Hombre Gringo and...
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Dear Mexican:
Why is it that Mexican immigrants like my parents, who have done well enough in this country to provide a home (a house, paid off in ten years, in white Orange County), an education, food, clothes and toys for their children, can complain about El Hombre Gringo and his stupid immigration laws, but when they go down to Tijuana, or to visit family in La Barca and Zacatecas, they complain about the prices of things — how the blankets, the jewelry, the food are tan caro? Call me a commie, but these people are making shit profit on their wares. Shouldn’t more affluent people such as my parents be happy to spread their money around and help out their fellow countrymen and -women?

Why do my parents complain about how El Hombre Gringo treats us like shit even though we work hard at the jobs they wouldn’t do, but when they see some of “our people” selling roses on the freeway off-ramps, they ignore them, and never think about buying from them? At least they’re not just standing there with a cardboard sign that says “Will work for food,” so why make a big stink when I want a damn blanket at the border crossing (one of those fabulous warm, fuzzy ones) that costs $32 there and would most certainly cost me more than twice that in Westminster? ¿Qué mendiga mierda es eso?

I don’t exactly consider myself Mexican; call me a traitor if you will, but since I was born in the U.S., raised around nothing but whites and went to school with a majority of whites, I don’t identify with the Chicano culture. But I see what people like my parents do, people who were born in Mexico, and know what it’s like to live in poverty, and I wonder what mierda their brains are made of, that they wouldn’t try to help out with something so piddly as buying the stupid Chiclets that the children at the border sell. Sure, you can’t buy from all of them, but why refuse to let me buy the blanket, saying, “Oh, he’ll come back and lower his price”? Well, he didn’t come back, and I never got my blanket. And he never got the $32 I was more than willing to fork over.
Too Many More Issues to Mention

Dear Pocho: Loco, you’re nothing but a Chicano. Chicanos are the only people on Earth who care about poor Mexicans. Mexicans in Mexico don’t give a shit; Mexican immigrants in the United States not brainwashed by progressive do-gooders (SARCASM ALERT to said progressive do-gooders, who’ll only laugh at jokes that involve Republicans getting ISIS’d) talk nothing but shit about the paisas and nacos and chúntaros in their neighborhoods. So God bless you for caring about poor Mexicans. And word to the wise: Stop being a Linus. The Paramount Swap Meet sells blankets for less than $32.
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