Chapter 14: Becoming the Gringo Latino
All of the influences that I had felt from María, Iris, Ximena, Tom, Mr. Vallejo, La Escuelita, my first years of teaching, Alfonso, and from the Reading and Literature Project began to show themselves on a regular basis. Not only was I seeing life in a different way, I was now being asked where I was from when I spoke English. I was a totally different person from what I thought I was before.
I used to think that teaching had nothing to do with culture or with family background. Now, I made a point to find out about my students and their families because I knew that would make a large difference in what and how they were able to learn. I was the teacher pushing the others to be active in all of the cultural festivals. On Mexican Independence Day my class would always be active. On Cinco de Mayo, we would be there again. Why? Because, that was what was important for their families. If I could get them to be there on those occasions, they would more likely respond when I called about academic progress.
The first couple of years, I played the “ignorant gringo.” From Alfonso and the Reading and Literature Project, I had found out about el Día de los Muertos. Literally, that means the Day of the Dead, but instead of being a gruesome, zombie-like celebration, the day is a day to remember ancestors and others that have passed away. Usually, a large display is created to remember especially those that have passed away in the previous year. The celebration takes place on November 2nd, two days after Halloween. Instead of being the commercialized, scary day that Halloween has become, el Día de los Muertos is a day to remember important people. The tradition goes back to pre-Hispanic days in México and is still popular in some areas of Michoacán, where a good number of my students were from. I decided to try a celebration in my classroom.
My first step was to recruit parental help. I held a parent meeting, at a time convenient for the parents. The two keys that I think made all of the difference were 1) I took food and 2) I took Giancarlos, who was about the same age as the children in my class. I made the meeting familiar instead of formal. I talked about what I wanted to do, but stressed that as a “pobre gringo” I wouldn’t be able to be successful without their help. Not only was the evening a great success, the entire celebration worked out fantastically. I had parents volunteering in class on a regular basis to help out, even those that they themselves did not celebrate el Día de los Muertos. Even some of the families that the 1st grade teacher swore that she had never been able to get in touch with, were showing up at school to help with the celebration. We ended up having to invite other classrooms to view.
This viewing created a small problem that took a lot of my quick thinking to resolve. One of the non-Hispanic parents from another classroom heard that we had an “altar” in our classroom and “were making fun of the dead with gruesome displays.” She had not bothered to visit our room to see what we had on the walls. The largest display with pictures of the deceased is called an altar, but we were in no way being religious. As far as “gruesome displays,” the closest thing we had was a picture of one of the student’s cousins who had passed away. It wasn’t gruesome, it was the only picture that the girl had of her cousin. The woman took what she heard, and, instead of talking with me or the school principal, who was one of the first to view the display and appreciate it, she had called the district office to complain. I received a phone call from the Associate Superintendent telling me that I had to remove the display because of the religious overtones and the offensive things that it contained.
My first instinct was to get mad. How could someone, after so much work, tell me that I had to remove work that the children had put together? And work that was in no way offensive? How could someone who had not even bothered to look at the display know what it contained? How could this Associate Superintendent take someone else’s word on the subject without coming to view the display first? Instead of getting mad, I thought quickly. “What would Alfonso do?” I asked myself. I knew what I had to do.
I pointed out to the Associate Supe that the principal had already viewed the display, and had seen that it was neither religious or offensive, rather it was a respectful way of remembering those that had passed away. Then I was inspired. “Would it be,” I asked, “offensive or religious to talk about war veterans on Memorial Day? Would you have me stop Memorial Day celebrations?”
“Well, of course it wouldn’t,” the Associate Supe stumbled, “but . . . .”
“I’m sorry, sir, but with all due respect, this is the exact same thing. The children have brought objects to put in a display to remember their loved ones. There is nothing religious about it; and definitely not anything gruesome or disrespectful. If the woman who called you, would like to visit and see what we have displayed, she is more than welcome. Most of the school, including the principal, have already viewed the display. Why don’t you come yourself?”
There was nothing for the man to say. You couldn’t say that a memorial display was a problem. He said that he would speak with the principal, but I had convinced him to change his mind about taking down the display. I knew that the principal would back me completely, because he was the one that had invited the other classes to view the display in the first place.
Another of the lessons I learned from the Literature Project was the inclusion of dance in the classroom. Obviously, I knew nothing before about Ballet Folklórico, but I had been able to learn from one of my colleagues a fun dance from Michocán called El Baile de los Viejitos, literally, the dance of the old men. Los Viejitos was a perfect dance for me to teach. It involved having the dancers dressed up as old men that would do a dance while acting very funny. Try to imagine 80-year-old men doing ballet and you have a good picture. My personality of including humor in just about everything was a perfect fit for this type of dance. If I could make the costumes, I was sure that I could pull of the dance.
I was able to bring in a lot of the same parents to help make masks for each of the children. The children then decorated the masks to look like old men. We got ponchos and straw hats donated, and I found broomsticks to cut into canes. PE for about two months involved teaching the class the basic steps and adding the creative touches with the funnier students. The kids loved the dance, because it involved falling down and making people laugh while their faces were covered. Their footwork was good, but not perfect, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that people would enjoy the show. The funniest part was that I decided to be part as well.
The day of the performance went extremely well. Enough parents showed up to help the children into their costumes including the talcum powdered hair. They looked great as they march/danced out onto the central viewing area in front of close to 1000 people. It was hilarious as old men danced, bumped, fell into each other and had a good time. The best part was watching the giant old man who was the only one left standing at the end of the music: me.
After the performance, we got a long, standing ovation. An older man came up to me to congratulate me. “Lo hacíamos igualito en México cuando yo era niño. We used to do it just like that when I was a boy in Mexico.” I doubt that they had a six-foot four-inch dancer taking part of the dance when he was a child in Mexico, but I took the statement as a big compliment. There were about 12 other groups that performed as well, but Los Viejitos was what everyone was talking about.
“Wow, Richard!” one of the bilingual teachers told me the next day, “you’re more Mexican than we are. You went all out!” I wasn’t trying to be Mexican or even Hispanic. I was just trying to include the culture of my students in what we were doing. I took it as a compliment. It was this type of thinking, however, that would again cause problems a few years later.
I continued to do similar types of activities with my students every year. Some of the years, the Día de Muertos would be big and in others they would be small, but they did continue. The folkloric dances continued as well, even when I moved into the upper grades to teach 4th grade. Since the other teachers weren’t as willing to work with me to switch students academically, I tried to work with them for PE. I offered to work with a group of interested students to perform some dances for the school’s big fund raiser, the spring Cinco de Mayo Festival. Our PTA raised more money, in that one day than they were able to raise throughout the rest of the year.
I taught the students the dances that I knew the most, Los Viejitos, and a couple of other dances, one from Colombia and one from Mexico. With 80% of the students at the school being Latinos, it only made sense to perform dances from Latin America. I was very surprised, however, by another phone call from a friend of mine who work as the Bilingual Coordinator for the district. She had worked with Alfonso and I on a few projects including the Spanish Language Development project that the district wouldn’t and couldn’t pursue. She called to share with me that she had received a letter from another teacher accusing me of being a racist.
That accusation came as a big shock both to me and to my friend. She was familiar with the work I did both in and out of my classroom, so she knew that I was anything but racist. She laughed as she read letter to me, however. “She says you are racist because you aren’t including any ‘white’ students in what you are doing with the dances.”
I wasn’t excluding any of the non-Hispanics. They were as welcome as any of the other students, they just didn’t show any interest. That wasn’t my fault, I would happily have included them. I chuckled at the accusation.
“I think that what she means,” my friend went on, “is that you are only doing dances from Latin America instead of folk dances from the US.” Again, if I were teaching at a different school or had a different make-up of students, I would have taught very different folk dances. My students, 100% of them, were Hispanic (99.99% from México), however. The vast majority of the school was as well. The accusation sat in the back of my head, but I didn’t let it bother me or let it show to the students. We had a fantastic time dancing Los Viejitos and, again, were the most popular at the assemblies and at the festival.
I continued to be popular with both the students and the families. I didn’t see myself as a Hispanic exactly, but a lot of what I saw and understood about the culture continues to be evident in my actions. I don’t think that I could change my culture completely, but I have referred to myself as the “Gringo Latino” when I made phone calls into radio stations. I’m definitely not the same person I was 25 years ago before I met Maria and before the cultural roller coaster that I have been on ever since. I wouldn’t change a single thing about it, however. I like being who I am, something that is not easily defined, a gringo latino.
I used to think that teaching had nothing to do with culture or with family background. Now, I made a point to find out about my students and their families because I knew that would make a large difference in what and how they were able to learn. I was the teacher pushing the others to be active in all of the cultural festivals. On Mexican Independence Day my class would always be active. On Cinco de Mayo, we would be there again. Why? Because, that was what was important for their families. If I could get them to be there on those occasions, they would more likely respond when I called about academic progress.
The first couple of years, I played the “ignorant gringo.” From Alfonso and the Reading and Literature Project, I had found out about el Día de los Muertos. Literally, that means the Day of the Dead, but instead of being a gruesome, zombie-like celebration, the day is a day to remember ancestors and others that have passed away. Usually, a large display is created to remember especially those that have passed away in the previous year. The celebration takes place on November 2nd, two days after Halloween. Instead of being the commercialized, scary day that Halloween has become, el Día de los Muertos is a day to remember important people. The tradition goes back to pre-Hispanic days in México and is still popular in some areas of Michoacán, where a good number of my students were from. I decided to try a celebration in my classroom.
My first step was to recruit parental help. I held a parent meeting, at a time convenient for the parents. The two keys that I think made all of the difference were 1) I took food and 2) I took Giancarlos, who was about the same age as the children in my class. I made the meeting familiar instead of formal. I talked about what I wanted to do, but stressed that as a “pobre gringo” I wouldn’t be able to be successful without their help. Not only was the evening a great success, the entire celebration worked out fantastically. I had parents volunteering in class on a regular basis to help out, even those that they themselves did not celebrate el Día de los Muertos. Even some of the families that the 1st grade teacher swore that she had never been able to get in touch with, were showing up at school to help with the celebration. We ended up having to invite other classrooms to view.
This viewing created a small problem that took a lot of my quick thinking to resolve. One of the non-Hispanic parents from another classroom heard that we had an “altar” in our classroom and “were making fun of the dead with gruesome displays.” She had not bothered to visit our room to see what we had on the walls. The largest display with pictures of the deceased is called an altar, but we were in no way being religious. As far as “gruesome displays,” the closest thing we had was a picture of one of the student’s cousins who had passed away. It wasn’t gruesome, it was the only picture that the girl had of her cousin. The woman took what she heard, and, instead of talking with me or the school principal, who was one of the first to view the display and appreciate it, she had called the district office to complain. I received a phone call from the Associate Superintendent telling me that I had to remove the display because of the religious overtones and the offensive things that it contained.
My first instinct was to get mad. How could someone, after so much work, tell me that I had to remove work that the children had put together? And work that was in no way offensive? How could someone who had not even bothered to look at the display know what it contained? How could this Associate Superintendent take someone else’s word on the subject without coming to view the display first? Instead of getting mad, I thought quickly. “What would Alfonso do?” I asked myself. I knew what I had to do.
I pointed out to the Associate Supe that the principal had already viewed the display, and had seen that it was neither religious or offensive, rather it was a respectful way of remembering those that had passed away. Then I was inspired. “Would it be,” I asked, “offensive or religious to talk about war veterans on Memorial Day? Would you have me stop Memorial Day celebrations?”
“Well, of course it wouldn’t,” the Associate Supe stumbled, “but . . . .”
“I’m sorry, sir, but with all due respect, this is the exact same thing. The children have brought objects to put in a display to remember their loved ones. There is nothing religious about it; and definitely not anything gruesome or disrespectful. If the woman who called you, would like to visit and see what we have displayed, she is more than welcome. Most of the school, including the principal, have already viewed the display. Why don’t you come yourself?”
There was nothing for the man to say. You couldn’t say that a memorial display was a problem. He said that he would speak with the principal, but I had convinced him to change his mind about taking down the display. I knew that the principal would back me completely, because he was the one that had invited the other classes to view the display in the first place.
Another of the lessons I learned from the Literature Project was the inclusion of dance in the classroom. Obviously, I knew nothing before about Ballet Folklórico, but I had been able to learn from one of my colleagues a fun dance from Michocán called El Baile de los Viejitos, literally, the dance of the old men. Los Viejitos was a perfect dance for me to teach. It involved having the dancers dressed up as old men that would do a dance while acting very funny. Try to imagine 80-year-old men doing ballet and you have a good picture. My personality of including humor in just about everything was a perfect fit for this type of dance. If I could make the costumes, I was sure that I could pull of the dance.
I was able to bring in a lot of the same parents to help make masks for each of the children. The children then decorated the masks to look like old men. We got ponchos and straw hats donated, and I found broomsticks to cut into canes. PE for about two months involved teaching the class the basic steps and adding the creative touches with the funnier students. The kids loved the dance, because it involved falling down and making people laugh while their faces were covered. Their footwork was good, but not perfect, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that people would enjoy the show. The funniest part was that I decided to be part as well.
The day of the performance went extremely well. Enough parents showed up to help the children into their costumes including the talcum powdered hair. They looked great as they march/danced out onto the central viewing area in front of close to 1000 people. It was hilarious as old men danced, bumped, fell into each other and had a good time. The best part was watching the giant old man who was the only one left standing at the end of the music: me.
After the performance, we got a long, standing ovation. An older man came up to me to congratulate me. “Lo hacíamos igualito en México cuando yo era niño. We used to do it just like that when I was a boy in Mexico.” I doubt that they had a six-foot four-inch dancer taking part of the dance when he was a child in Mexico, but I took the statement as a big compliment. There were about 12 other groups that performed as well, but Los Viejitos was what everyone was talking about.
“Wow, Richard!” one of the bilingual teachers told me the next day, “you’re more Mexican than we are. You went all out!” I wasn’t trying to be Mexican or even Hispanic. I was just trying to include the culture of my students in what we were doing. I took it as a compliment. It was this type of thinking, however, that would again cause problems a few years later.
I continued to do similar types of activities with my students every year. Some of the years, the Día de Muertos would be big and in others they would be small, but they did continue. The folkloric dances continued as well, even when I moved into the upper grades to teach 4th grade. Since the other teachers weren’t as willing to work with me to switch students academically, I tried to work with them for PE. I offered to work with a group of interested students to perform some dances for the school’s big fund raiser, the spring Cinco de Mayo Festival. Our PTA raised more money, in that one day than they were able to raise throughout the rest of the year.
I taught the students the dances that I knew the most, Los Viejitos, and a couple of other dances, one from Colombia and one from Mexico. With 80% of the students at the school being Latinos, it only made sense to perform dances from Latin America. I was very surprised, however, by another phone call from a friend of mine who work as the Bilingual Coordinator for the district. She had worked with Alfonso and I on a few projects including the Spanish Language Development project that the district wouldn’t and couldn’t pursue. She called to share with me that she had received a letter from another teacher accusing me of being a racist.
That accusation came as a big shock both to me and to my friend. She was familiar with the work I did both in and out of my classroom, so she knew that I was anything but racist. She laughed as she read letter to me, however. “She says you are racist because you aren’t including any ‘white’ students in what you are doing with the dances.”
I wasn’t excluding any of the non-Hispanics. They were as welcome as any of the other students, they just didn’t show any interest. That wasn’t my fault, I would happily have included them. I chuckled at the accusation.
“I think that what she means,” my friend went on, “is that you are only doing dances from Latin America instead of folk dances from the US.” Again, if I were teaching at a different school or had a different make-up of students, I would have taught very different folk dances. My students, 100% of them, were Hispanic (99.99% from México), however. The vast majority of the school was as well. The accusation sat in the back of my head, but I didn’t let it bother me or let it show to the students. We had a fantastic time dancing Los Viejitos and, again, were the most popular at the assemblies and at the festival.
I continued to be popular with both the students and the families. I didn’t see myself as a Hispanic exactly, but a lot of what I saw and understood about the culture continues to be evident in my actions. I don’t think that I could change my culture completely, but I have referred to myself as the “Gringo Latino” when I made phone calls into radio stations. I’m definitely not the same person I was 25 years ago before I met Maria and before the cultural roller coaster that I have been on ever since. I wouldn’t change a single thing about it, however. I like being who I am, something that is not easily defined, a gringo latino.
posted by Richard Braun | 8:25 AM
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