Category: Unit 1 (Page 3 of 21)

As soon as I get home, I strip myself of any trace of the outside and switch into something comfortable. After a tiring day at school, I just want to lay down.  I throw myself on the couch in the living room and let out a deep sigh. Almost out of habit, I start checking social media on my phone. I can feel my mother’s eyes on me. She’s sitting on the opposite side of the couch, with a massive cup of coffee. My eyes meet her piercing red, wrinkled eyes under her furrowed eyebrows. “She must have had a long day too”, I think to myself . “¿Tienes hambre, mija?” she asks me. “¿Qué hay de comer?” I hesitate. She gets up, makes her way into the kitchen. As I watch her prepare a bowl for me, my stomach rumbles. The hunger I didn’t know I had, is now overwhelming. I meet her at the dinner table as she sets the bowl in front of me. I look at the steam floating from my bowl and I look back at her to say “thank you” with a small smile. She knew exactly what I needed.

I’m one of the lucky ones. With their green cards my parents were able to find less straining work, as a chef and domestic worker. Don’t get me wrong, our life wasn’t easy but it was enough to make a family of 6 feel secure. Despite rarely being home and missing a lot of school events,(which was basically our entire life at that age ),my parents did what they could to be there for us. I didn’t always feel this way. For a long time, I held a lot of resentment towards them for not being around. My parents aren’t exactly affectionate. The only memory I have of getting hugged by them as an adult, was on new years at midnight, at a family party. They will rarely utter the words “Te amo”  but I have it written in a few Christmas cards. The hardships they have faced and face everyday as Mexicans in America, have made them tough. On top of this, living in a tiny pueblo in the middle of El Campo growing up, my parents and their parents were too busy working and worrying to learn to be emotionally available. Instead of being angry for what we lack, I have to remind myself to be grateful for what we have. They were working all the time to make sure I didn’t have to worry about money when I got older. Now that I’m older, I know to pay attention to the little things. Such as, the delicious home cooked meals and the silent “I see you. I love you. You are a part of me. I’m proud of how far we’ve come.” in the “mija” slipped at the end of a sentence.

“Mija” is a colloquial contraction of “Mi hija”, meaning my daughter. In Mexico, the word is used as a term of endearment towards younger women by an older figure, not necessarily related. My parents refer to me as “mija” sometimes, as well as my extended family like aunts, uncles, grandparents, and even strangers. In English, there are words like honey and sweetheart but it’s usually strictly used by family towards family. Calling a stranger a word that means “ my daughter” means something more. There’s a closeness, and understanding made between the person using it and the person it refers to. It’s very welcoming and warm coming from anyone, even a stranger. 

As I walk through the Atlantic Barclay station, I pass by several  older women with their carts of cut up fruit, chocolates and churros. They stand there day after day, trying to make a living while countless people with hundreds of dollars worth of technology in their hands, walk by them without giving a glance. I can’t help thinking of my parents when I look at them. No papers to get a real paying job but still working hard. When I get to the  platform for the D train, I see the usual churro lady waiting at her usual spot but this time she has a small child holding chocolate bars with her. I remember selling chocolate in elementary school and my parents having to buy a lot of it because no one else would. My eyes linger at all her options with no sense of hunger at all. “How much for one?” I ask the boy. He gives a worried look to his mother and “ una dollar” she replies. I hand her a $20 and before she can reach in her fanny pack to gather my change, I walk away towards my train that is entering the platform. “Gracias mija” she says behind me. I scan the train cart for a seat but all that’s left are the middle seats everyone avoids. My legs are aching for a break. A short brown man and I are going towards the same empty corner seat. He is in worn down clothes, thick yellow worker boots, and he’s covered in dust. “He must be aching for a break too”, I think to myself.  I offer him my seat but he quickly declines and stands on the side of me. He takes off his bag and there’s a big thump as he sets it down. When the train arrives at his stop, I watch him grunt as he swings the bag bigger than him onto his back. I noticed he dropped a hat he had in his pocket, by my feet. I pick it up and as I put the hat in the man’s crusty swollen fingers, he says “thank you, mija”.

Mexicans in America, like most immigrants, have to sacrifice a lot to make it here. With poor English and sometimes no documentation papers, they don’t have many options to support their new life. They are extremely hard workers and they have no shame because that’s what they’ve known their whole life. This tenacity is passed on for generations. It’s as if being referred to as “mija/o” means “I see you. You and I are the same. I am proud of us. Thank you for existing.” Their dedication to work is for their loved ones and despite it keeping them busy, they find a way to extend their love in small ways. Relaxing and self-care isn’t something that comes easy to them. They need a loved one or sometimes even a stranger to lend some extra kindness. They deserve it because however much tired we Americans feel, they probably feel 5x more tired.

It’s mid-February and it’s bitter cold. Although the sun is shining out today, looks are quite deceiving. Richard and I finally reach our destination and we enter the restaurant to catch up on things. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten together. Today seemed perfect to sip some wine and indulge in some delicious appetizers.

We are quickly seated to our table and asked if we’d like bottle or tap water while we look over the menu to decide on our choices. We both respond and agree to tap water. The waiter quickly returns with our glasses of water. I said, “Thank you”. He replied, “No problem”. Those words just echoed in my head. Yet this was not the first time I pondered on this phrase.

The aromas were tantalizing, and I was famished. Our waiter returned to ask if we needed a few more minutes. I replied, “Yes please”. He replied, “No problem”. There goes that word again. Eventually we placed our orders, and the food came quickly. But as I sat there enjoying my company and chatting about. I couldn’t help to keep thinking about the words, “no problem”, as I have on numerous occasions. Is it me and maybe I am just overthinking things? I just can’t help wondering whatever happened to other responses, namely, “you’re welcome”. Isn’t that the proper etiquette to say, “you’re welcome” when someone says, “thank you”? “No problem” categorically doesn’t sound as if it’s being interpreted with a positive tone when someone is giving you thanks. The vibe I get when this phrase reaches my ears, is self-defeating. After closely analyzing the expression, clearly combined, “no” meaning “not any” and “problem” suggest difficulty with the task. In most cases and probably not at all it means none of the later to the person responding. It would simply mean to them that they carried out an act of kindness. Yet, why to some of us do these words pierce our eardrums when spoken?

Dating back to the 20th century the traditional response to “thank you” was “you’re welcome”. Were we not taught this when we were children? It seems that times have changed and we have been introduced to other terms and phrases to perhaps catch the same meaning. Who, you ask? These slangy terms have been exchanged by none other than our millennials and Gen Xers. There are other chic and half-hearted alternatives that have made way to the new generation(s) word bank database. Just to name a few of these phrases, “forget it,” “think nothing of it,” “no sweat,” “no worries,” “it’s nothing,” and “my pleasure”. I am guilty of utilizing some of this language of “politeness”. I will admit to feeling confident in saying, “my pleasure”. Why, is that you ask? There’s nothing negative about it. “My” indicating me, and “pleasure” expresses gratification.

I am a Gen Xer and the youngest of 5. I try not to fall into the trap of using the hip alternatives in a workplace setting. Especially when interacting with elders. I feel they less tolerance for this new language. I tend to cringe if I hear this “no problem”. If someone is thanking me, I make it a point to say “you’re welcome”. I feel that if I say “you’re welcome” I am genuinely happy, and it was my pleasure to help or serve you. “No problem” to me is as if you’re saying, “yeah ok whatever, I’m just doing what I have to do”. Next time you’re out there take notice as to how many times you say, “no problem” and how many times it’s said back to you. Is it that hard to say, “You’re welcome”? Which would you prefer to say and or does it even affect you either way?

I recall a time having a conversation with my brother. I believe it was during the Christmas holidays. He was pondering on the response, “likewise”. Let’s say for example you say, “Merry Christmas!” and one responds, “likewise”. His point to me was, “why do we say that “likewise”? The more I thought about it, in his defense I guess he was feeling the same way about my issue with “no problem”. “Likewise” is synonymous as “same to you”. It doesn’t sound as bad but since he planted that seed in my head. I am now mindful in my choice of words when I respond to people. Overtime we have adopted alternative forms of phrases and languages.

I’m still not convinced that the phrase, “no problem” calls more attention to the negative, the problems, inconveniences and diminishes the good deed and gratitude that was done. To the point that it sounds off as if you are apologizing. These shifts in our verbal culture will continue to grow. Whether we choose to be more traditional or sway to the younger generation language, it has been embraced. It will take some getting used to for some of us. It’s an intended expression of politeness to an earnest “thank you”. After reading this does it make a difference to you how you will respond?

Some of you may know that there are some words out there that people from different communities use against others in a context that may be very offensive and sometimes not offensive depending on how the word is being used. One community that experiences this is the Black community. Being a part of the black community there’s some words that we’re allowed to say, and people of other communities aren’t allowed to say because of the meanings behind those words. That specific word that I am talking about is the N-word spelt with er at the end.

For those who don’t know this word, it is an ethnic slur typically used against black people especially African Americans. This word is considered as an extremely offensive word towards black people even if it’s just mentioned without the intention of using it as a slur. This word is also used by black people in a more neutral meaning usually as “nigga”.

The word also has two different spellings, and both of those spellings have their own way of how they’re used. The first one is spelled as “nigger” which is the way that those who aren’t in the black community uses as they would feel the need to say the word and pronounce it with the hard er at the end of it. This way of spelling and pronunciation of the word would mostly help you in a way to tell if someone is a part of the community of those who are considered as racist. The second one is spelled “nigga” which those who are a part of the black community uses in a more neutral way and can refer to those a part of the same community as a friend. For example, if someone asks you if you know a specific person that you are friends with, but they don’t know that, some people would respond as “yeah that’s my nigga”.

I think everyone know about this word, but some don’t know or understand the meaning behind it. This word is a word that holds a lot of things that’s related towards the black community, and it should be taught too those who don’t know what this word holds against the black community. The word originated in the 18^th century as an adaptation of the Spanish word negro which means black. Over the time it became a derogatory connotation and then became a racist insult by the 20^th century, and it has never been able to shed that baggage since then. During the late 18^th and early 19^th century the word was used by white people as a derogatory nickname towards African American laborers and their non-standard language.

My first experience of this word was when I first moved to America. Back in the Caribbean this word was never really known, well not that I knew of. First time I heard someone use the word “nigger” I was confused on what it meant and why people got so mad about it being used against black people. My first impression of the word “nigger” was that it sounded like a curse word because people would use it as a add on to their curse words and some people weren’t allowed to use it at all because of their skin color or community. Instead of asking people about what the word meant, out of curiosity I did a little research to understand the word a little better. Doing so I found out that it was a word that whites used against blacks back in the day around slavery time and it was a way of them causing mental and physical harm to the slaves.

Seeing how this word has some much history behind it on how this word developed and the main characters of that are people from the black community, outsiders who are not a part of the black community should not use the word. There’s been so many debates happening between people who aren’t a part of the black community talking about why they can’t say the word but people in the black community are allowed too. Those same people are the ones that takes advantage of the word whenever they can and just doesn’t understand or care to learn about what the word really mean and does to the black community.

When this word is used by people outside of the community it comes off as an insult towards the black community all because of the history of the word and the meaning. Instead, they should try to learn the history of the word and try to understand why people from the black community react the way they do when the word is being used against them. They should try to inform and educate others who tend to just use the word because they hear someone use it and got away with it and think it’s fair for them to also go ahead and use it too.

To those outsiders from other communities besides the black community, I would advise them to learn more about the word and its roots before going out into another community and not caring and just throwing the word around like it doesn’t mean something to other communities. I say this because today in the present world we live in there are heavy consequences for using certain words. People are losing their jobs, being disowned by family because of their word choices, and being labeled as a racist for using those words that are connected to being slurs against different communities not only just the black community. You shouldn’t feel so comfortable to know that a word holds so much hatred against a community and be out here using it like nothing is wrong with it because I do think if the tables were turned, they would act the same way these communities act when their offended using the word.