mexican american women

La Calle: Spatial Conflicts and Urban Renewal in a Southwest City

farhana — Mon, 21 Feb 2011 20:00:00 +0000

In her historical work La Calle, Otero focuses on the city of Tucson’s elimination of the Mexican cultural center known as “La Calle” in the late sixties. While this event may seem minor in the grand scheme of things, Otero successfully argues that the incident was in fact proof of a bias against Tuscon citizens of Mexican descent and representative of a far larger problem.

No other United States city has remained under Mexican control as long as Tucson, which was not fully acquired by the U.S. until 1856. As a result, the city retained both a people and a culture that reflected its prolonged ties to Mexico. While the Mexican flavor was initially used as a means to attract Caucasian tourists, the city later began a plan to “revitalize” the city by eliminating such centers of Mexican culture as La Calle, a downtown area populated by small locally owned boutiques, Latin flavored restaurants, and the Plaza movie theater, which showed films in Spanish. The city of Tucson chose to eliminate this popular downtown destination in favor of replacing the area’s attractions with chain stores and strip malls designed to attract suburban Caucasian visitors, believing such a change would mean a higher profit for the city.

The bias towards Mexican-Americans also went further with realtors not selling them homes to keep them out of Caucasian neighborhoods, and restrictive mortgage policies. Otero makes her case by culling local city records and utilizing the oral history from city residents who experienced firsthand the changes made to Tucson during the sixties. Otero’s evidence clearly points to a policy rooted in a belief that Mexican Americans were second class citizens and that historical monuments tying Tucson to its Mexican history were not worth saving.

As a whole the book does a good job at pointing to the larger issue of the political implications of city planning. Otero quotes feminist geographer Linda McDowell who stated “Places are made through power relations which construct the rules that define boundaries. These boundaries define who belongs to a place and who may be excluded, as well as the location or site of the experience.”

We may take for granted that the arrangement, boundaries, as well as what is deemed worth preserving, within the cities we reside in may most likely have been influenced by racism, classism, and sexism.

Written by: Adrienne Urbanski, February 21st 2011

No Mexicans, Women or Dogs Allowed: The Rise of the Mexican American Civil Rights Movement

admin — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 17:03:00 +0000

By Cynthia E. Orozco

University of Texas Press

So often, when studying the history of civil rights in the United States in school, the curriculum concentrates on the struggles faced by African Americans and white women. The plights of other minority groups though, such as Asian Americans or Hispanic Americans, are often omitted from the textbooks. In those rare instances when these other groups are mentioned, their histories are condensed into a paragraph or side note. Cynthia E. Orozco attempts to shed some light on one of these ignored civil rights movements in her book, No Mexicans, Women, or Dogs Allowed. Her chronicle is a fascinating exploration at an overlooked chapter of American history.

I grew up in Texas, graduated from a Texas university, and currently teach in the same district where I attended school as a youth. Suffice to say, I have some experience studying Texas history. I found Orozco’s book, which focuses mainly on the region of South Texas, to be extremely eye-opening. Orozco outlines the history and development of the Mexican American culture and civil rights movement, starting with the early 1900s and concentrating mostly on the cities of San Antonio and Corpus Christi. She draws readers in, not with flashy writing or hooks, but with historical data and simple statistics that are interesting and to the point.

The book starts out by defining the cultural differences between Mexican Americans whose families have lived in Texas since before it became a state and recently immigrated Mexicans—a difference that many modern Americans still struggle with. Orozco then delves into the history of the League of United Latin American Citizens, or LULAC as it is commonly known by, as well as other organizations that were influential in the Mexican-American civil rights movement. She also takes on the issue of gender inequality within Mexican-American society and how this affected the civil rights movement and modern scholars’ perception of the women who participated in it.

For those interested in American history, civil rights history, women’s history, or Mexican American history, this book should be at the top of your reading list. After completing this book, I found myself wanting to know more about the people and incidents discussed. One can only hope that more books like this one will be published so that people can be educated on all facets of the civil rights movement in America.

Written by: Victoria Kroeger, February 20th 2010

The Woman In The Zoot Suit: Gender, Nationalism, and the Cultural Politics of Memory

admin — Fri, 22 May 2009 17:35:00 +0000

By Catherine S. Ramirez

Duke University Press

I have always associated the zoot suit with Cab Calloway and the big band, jazz, and swing era. Never did it occur to me that this type of suit would be the focal point of a movement or two, faceously put. I also thought the trend of wearing loose clothing, as an act of rebellion, was taken from the prison population in which the usage of belts was not allowed. Little did I know how central it was to the Mexican American identity, from the 1930s leading up to the Chicano movement.

Catherine S. Ramirez’ The Woman in the Zoot Suit, brings the reader to another place in American history that leaves us to question, yet again, who we chose to leave out, as valuable contributors to this heterogeneous anomaly we call a country. Pachucas and Pachucos were Mexican American women and men, respectively, who wore zoot suits during the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s as part of the Pachuquismo subculture.

For the Pachuca, the zoot suit was a central part of the subculture and consisted of a cardigan or V-neck sweater, pleated skirt, fishnet stockings, platform heels, dark lipstick, and foam inserts to lift the hair into a high bouffant. They were often second-generation children of Mexicans who immigrated to the United States, during World War II, to find work, education, and better lives for themselves and their families. Many Mexican American youths around that time were not part of the Pachuquismo subculture, but readily identified with the ideals of a rejection of the racism, classicism, and sexism perpetrated against them. In a way, Pachucas were considered as much outsiders as the aforementioned because of history’s neglect to include them in such an integral part of the Mexican American history they helped create.

Ramirez explains how the Sleepy Lagoon incident (which is, by itself, necessary of further research) and the Zoot Suit Riots thrust the Pachuca into the search for an identity within her own culture. Pachucas were forced between the rock of an outside prejudice, and a hard place that came in the form of a prejudice within the subculture they could most easily identify with. In a subculture in which they could contribute the most, they were often relegated to the forgotten, because of the role they were expected to fill as the quiet, unassuming Mexican housewife and mother.

Ramirez presents the unique history of the Mexican American Pachuca, whose situation takes into account the religious, gender, and non-U.S.-born ramifications that they inherited. Not only did they have to fight against the politics of a racist, sexist society alongside the Pachucos, but they also had to fight the misogynistic politics of their brethren from within. Ramirez presents a well documented and informative work on the Pachuca, thus helping to bring us out of our culturally-induced slumber.

Written by: Olupero R. Aiyenimelo, May 22nd 2009