Saturday, April 24, 2010

I hate Mexicans

Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you ~ Friedrich Nietzsch

There are days in which I hate my own people. Seriously, today was one of those days in which I see the argument other people make against Mexicans and immigrants. I won't go into the details because it's that's not the important part. This isn't the first time I had thoughts like this. I have them almost on a daily basis really, specially in my own community. I write this because when I walk down the street or ride my bike, I see what's wrong with the picture I'm looking at. A homeless man, decaying and gushing out juices from over swollen legs on the corner, next to a high traffic bus stop. His scent bring tears to my eyes and makes me gag at the same time. Gang bangers that would take your life for the few bucks in your pocket, tagging, letting you know this is their territory. People who will never go beyond the capacity of working a dead end job, having kids and contributing to the Latino/a population.

I think about that and more, but at the same time I think about what I'm doing, what my friends are doing and what others are doing, all in the name of helping those people I just stereotyped before. I think about the workshops I've done, sahring knowledge about what it's like to be undoc, passing out flyeres to help people know their rights and a number to call in case something happens to them. Protesting, organizing and planning to help people that make feel like an elitist, shit talking, prejudice ass hole who focuses on the what a few people do, instead of what the over all picture looks like. 

Everyday, I'm distancing myself further and further away from the community and the people that I once claimed to want to be helping. The people I called my raza. Marginalized, scapegoated and outcast. I notice this because I got to a job in which I see what I hate in people. What disgust me. Male pride/machismo, ignorance for others, culture specific mannerism and a bunch of other things that make me say in my head, "it's because of people like you, that you give your race a bad reputation." I see it African Americans, Mexicans, Central Americans, Armenians and Americans every single time I go to my job.

Well why don't I quit my job ? And do what ? go to another place only to get more of the same ? To risk being caught for trying to work without a legal immigrant status ? To stop going to school when I need to have employment now more than ever ? I don't hide what I think because I know better than that. I know that this kind of thinking lowers me to levels of those who would commit racist crimes. But it takes one to know one and that's what adds to the fire. Because I am or was one of them. I am/was from there. I know what they think and I know why they think.

In dealing with these issues, I flush them out from within. I bring them to the surface, contemplate why I think them and why I feel that way. I contemplate and meditate in my own way on how to see beyond these prejudices, how to grow beyond them and learn to over come them in time. Because it will take time. Other wise I wouldn't do the work that I do. I wouldn't fight for those who don't have voices and share knowledge with those who are yet to come. Who will follow in my footsteps and need someone to show them which paths they can take. In all my life, this is one of the biggest things that burns within me. An eternal struggle that will be balanced as time goes on and as I continue to grow.