Responding to environment as character, youth, & social change discussion.
Although I can’t truly remember my first years of life, I could always rely on certain things that have always been constants in my life even from my earliest days. Nothing necessarily poetic or life changing, just things that I knew I could always count on that would always be there; grandma always had cookies in her pantry, dad’s days off are always spent outdoors and our small town was our playground. Only with the latter did we feel as though we had complete control over, and we acted as heirs to a kingdom that was ours. Although Anthony is divided into two parts by two separate states, our side was in the Land of Enchantment, New Mexico, with the other side known as Texas side.
It may not have been much to look at considering it was a small town stuck right in the middle two much more appealing cities, but our claim to fame was that Anthony is the Leap Year Capital of the world (which it remains even to this day). Only the Texas side of the town was incorporated marked by posts showing the divide between the two states while the division between the people remained invisible. It’s not that we didn’t like each other so much as we just didn’t interact much with the other side. We were two separate small towns that shared only an invisible line that said we were different. I always just thought it made Anthony all the more unique. Whenever I got the chance, I would tell people how our school bus had to cross two states to get us to school. Although it sounded dramatic the truth was that the main street crossed out of New Mexico and into Texas only to cross back in to New Mexico five hundred feet later.
The New Mexico side I lived on remained unincorporated until January 5, 2010 when a few friends of mine decided that we should fight to once and for all incorporate and govern ourselves instead of having the Dona Ana County continue doing it. So we organized the residents and ourselves and voted in favor of incorporation. I admit that my part was small, but I’m always glad that I was involved in some way. My friend Victor Ray Montoya asked me to run and be the first Mayor of Anthony. It sounded like a good idea, but after some serious consideration I decided I didn’t have the experience or time to give to the community what it needed. He still remains an active community advocate for the youth and people of Anthony and spends much of his time doing great things for the community.
Anthony, New Mexico was and is used for so much agriculture including corn, cotton, onions, chile, apples, pistachios and lettuce not to forget dairy farms. My family lived far too close to the dairy and you could smell the waste that the cows produced from time to time. During summer it seemed worse with the smoldering heat mixed with the unpleasant smell of the cow manure that had been sitting in the sun all day. When tios and tias came to visit with our cousins it was always embarrassing when they would step out of their cars only to immediately cover their noses and try their best not to cry out in disgust. To a certain degree everyone who lived nearby had become accustomed to the smell somewhat and it didn’t stop us in our tracks as it did others.
We lived outside on the streets with our neighborhood friends playing touch football, basketball, kickball, having firework wars during the Fourth of July and attending many a house party when one of our peers had a birthday. Our very favorite thing to do was riding our bicycles and go exploring. We became masters of taking older broken bikes apart and piecing the parts together to make one working bike whenever we needed. We became so good that we didn’t mind going on long trips that were miles away on just our bicycles with only a canteen of water, a patch kit in case of flats and a small hand pump.
One of our favorite destinations was to ride all the way out to the Rio Grande, which was a little more than three miles from our house. It wasn’t so much the distance that made it seem far but rather the lack of houses or adult supervision that made it seem so far and an adventure. We would ride out early on a Saturday morning and pass the Country Store knowing that just over the railroad tracks we’d only have the company of each other and the fields of agriculture carefully laid out by local farmers. We’d pass the onion fields first, the aroma of what smelled just like a bag of Lay’s Sour Cream and Onion flavored chips met us as we rode parallel to the burlap sacks of onions ready for pick up. We would continue to the end of O’Hara road that led us to an apple orchard and factory whose name I never took the time to remember. Sometimes my brothers and I were lucky enough to see a ripe apple on a branch hanging over the small fence and we would stop for a snack under the shade of apple trees.
From there we would continue on around the corner where we were met in times of season by fields of jalapenos or cotton depending on the year. A bit further down we would pass Three Sisters road and the Rio Grande wasn’t much further ahead. Once at the Rio we would play in the water if the tide wasn’t too high, since we didn’t know how to swim, or if it wasn’t too close to evening. As young children our parents would recount the story of La Llorona (the Crying Lady) to my siblings and I on many a fishing trip or picnic outing at the Rio. La Llorona was a scorned woman who would come out of the river who, having drowned her own children in the Rio Grande, now came to life just before dusk in search of other small children to replace the ones she had killed. The legend said that she would take you back under the water with her and you were never seen again. We attributed many a drowning death in the river to La Llorona that had taken kids in the strong current with her. Needless to say, whether with my brothers or friends at the Rio, we’d always make certain that we were well on our way to the safety of our street well before La Llorona could get her cold, wet hands on us. Or we would abandon the last one of us out of the water and tell them La Llorona was behind them and we’d all run off screaming toward our bikes to sell the prank to our terrified friend who also knew the story well. We didn’t have Disney shows to movies to tell us about children having adventures, we went out and had our own adventures that would be the center of laughter at our family or social get together as adults.
Thoughts on the the Fire Next Door documentary
This video was so truly sad to see what exactly was happening to these people. While watching it all I could think was how surreal the entire situation was and how I couldn’t believe that it was happening in the United States. It seems that environment again was a factor for so many young people turning to violence as was expressed by the elderly white lady who worked at the Ritz Carlton. She mentions that her life had been threatened by a couple of teens no more than 15 to 16 years old. They say to her that if they had a knife they’d cut her throat because they knew she has money. Then later (I believe for talking to the reporter) someone ransacks her home destroying everything while she is downstairs.
Although I don’t condone their behavior, I believe these people steal from all the abandoned buildings (much like the one that had had the sink stolen out of it just days after the fire) to get money in order to help their families or even to feed their possible addictions to drugs or alcohol. I was saddened to hear a certain police officer say that if it wasn’t for alcohol pacifying the people, there would be no hope for any of them. I believe this police officer was right. How could you survive 30,000 fires in 10 years without going crazy?
I believe that the “cultural phenomenon” that may have been birthed in such terrible adversity was break dancing. It seems to me that there were so many people with no hope and no outlet for frustration or even a way to forget (even if only for a moment) about their problems without turning to vices. Some people must have come together and decided they wanted to do something different that wasn’t completely negative. I’m sure they didn’t have the resources to pick up painting or musical instruments to write symphonies in; so they did what they could with what they had. They created new music and a new way to physically express themselves. Or, I could be completely wrong.
Youth & Social Change, To See Again, Hearts & Hands (Discussion)
I know that there exists a belief that troubled youth have given up on society or their culture and turned to violence and drugs or prisons or gangs because they don’t care. I think what Rodriguez is trying to say on page 28 of Hearts & Hands is that it is not troubled youth that have turned their backs of society or help, but rather that those who help have turned their backs on troubled youth. The system is “fractured” as he calls it and can be repaired but for our want or the want of those with the resources to not have to deal with trouble or deal with issues. This is impossible. We must open our eyes that to ‘fix’ the fracture we must roll up our sleeves and expect struggle and face trouble to fix the system. A favorite quote of mine by Richard Douglas is, “without struggle, there can be no progress”. I memorized this phrase to always remind myself that to overcome a situation I do not like or want to be in, I must fight. I must struggle to survive. Progress brings change and change brings opportunity and life when none may have existed before.
"How can youths contribute to social change, to bettering their homes and community, and know that their contributions are essential?"
I believe that youth know and understand more than we give them credit for. One way we can help youth to contribute to social change is by giving them a voice and an opinion and showing them that it matters. Like I’ve always said, ‘they’re young, not dumb’. They may need an adult to oversee the group itself but not necessarily interfere with the opinion and/or decision of this group making decisions or making their voices heard. I believe that young people would surprise us with what they think. They, just like the rest of us, want to live in the best community possible. I don’t necessarily believe that they want to bring anarchy and chaos to their lives or the lives of those they love. Sometimes young people just want an outlet to express themselves and maybe something to do with their free time.
Once we give them the chance to be heard, step two would be to have their opinions heard and put into action whenever possible. This way they know that they are contributing to change and that their efforts are contributing to positive change. I believe that they want to be proud of their community and their home life just as much as the next person. If they can see their opinions help a current situation in their community, they will feel empowered and redeemed. I don’t think that they can always do things alone, and the helpful hand of a few elders or community leaders can go a long way.
Thoughts on the Marc Steiner Show, 'Dialogue Between Ciudad Juarez and Baltimore: What It's Like to Grow Up in a Violent Community'
It’s tragic that these types of dialogues even have to exist between such young people that should be worried about simpler things. Unfortunately, simpler times are a thing of the past that belonged to other generations. All four youth involved in this discussion have some horrible stories about what they have seen and lived. Being as close as we are to Juarez we are ourselves familiar with the terror that exists not so far from our own homes. What I did find of interest about this discussion is that these young people say that they don’t follow the talks of adults but rather what they do or how they act in life. For example, the young lady from Juarez says that having an adult come into a class a talk to them about what they need to do, it “goes in one ear, out the other”. They feel that youth to youth communication and involvement will have a much larger affect on the outcome and have more positive results.
As I listened to this, I thought that it makes sense. Young people are strongly opinionated and usually they listen more or follow more the actions of their peers than they do anyone else. I refer back to what I wrote in the last section about giving youth a forum to have a voice that has impact in the decisions made in their community and their world. Other activities that they mentioned include giving young people more activities to involve themselves in to turn away from drugs and violence such as sports and youth workshops. I think we need to not only allow young people to find their voices, but also give them a platform where everyone, including other youth, parents and their communities can hear them and take them into consideration. This could be the best answer to the many of the problems young people face today.
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