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“Maybe the fancy academic people you work with do, but no real people, no people here say that. “So there is no difference between you and a person born and raised in Mexico, speaking Spanish as their first language? You just say ‘Mexican.’” “Then what do actual Mexicans born in Mexico, call themselves? She and her family survived the camps and when the United States liberated the Philippines from Japanese occupation, she was wounded in the leg with shrapnel but recovered completely. Soon her mother was earning a decent living as dealer in her uncle's club and their financial situation improved.Shortly thereafter, Neile was shipped off to a boarding school, Rosemary Hall, in Greenwich, Connecticut.“They’re a bunch of narrow-minded, upper-class, racist white women from Clovis,” she says.“They started talking about ‘illegals’ and I told them what you said, that they aren’t .” “Good,” I say. You’re not even a real Mexican.” Christy elongates the “e” sound in “real,” and, sitting forward between the seats, her long brown hair swaying against her face, repeats it, “’Not a ‘reeeeeeeal Mexican.’ Can you believe that?!
The Japanese invaded Pearl Harbor and all hell broke loose in Manila.The training from this side was in some ways a bit more pointed.My dad and uncles often talked about the ills of dating white women: they were prissy, demanding, couldn’t cook.” “But you’re not,” my mom says, her fingers clawed, rubbing the nail dust onto her pants and looking up.“You’re white, just like me.” * This is a conversation we’ve had many times over the years, though never this bluntly.
* On being called white, I could see in the rear view mirror my sister’s face twitch with restraint. “No, you’re American,” Mom says, twisting in her seat to look Christy in the eyes. There are only three races and Mexican isn’t one of them.