Thursday, July 22, 2010

Baldo - Say It Isn't So!

Baldo
by Paul D. McInerny

As a prelude to what you are about to read, the following may sound like the ranting of an ultra-conservative, paranoid, white male who is a card carrying member of the Tea Party, KKK and the Aryan Brotherhood. I concede that I am a white male.

Our Sunday paper carries the comic strip Baldo which I enjoyed reading, primarily because of the quality of the art. The story centers on the Bermudez family and normally covers non-political subjects. Until recently, it was one of my favorites.

This past Sunday (July 20, 2010) Baldo and his family sat at the dinner table and had the following discussion:

Graci: Papi, what is cultural assimilation?

Papi: Hmmm…let me try to explain.
Acculturation is where a group of people, usually ethnic minorities, keep some parts of their culture while adapting parts of the dominant culture.

In assimilation, a group is completely absorbed into the dominant culture, giving up their customs and traditions over time. The smaller group eventually becomes indistinguishable from the dominant group.

The next panel shows comic characters from other strips such as Lucy, Blonde and the dad from Family Circle, all sitting together. Not coincidentally, all the characters were Caucasian. Baldo and Gracie are seen thinking and reflecting that assimilation would mean becoming Caucasian in appearance.

Graci: I think I prefer acculturation
Baldo: Can you pass the jalapeno jam?

What disturbed me was that, according to the illustrators of Baldo, Hector D. Cantu and Carlos Castellanos, to assimilate in America, one had to be “indistinguishable from the dominant group” in this case, Caucasians.

Perhaps I am being overly sensitive, but allow me the opportunity to explain my sensitivity complex. In recent news, there was a video of King Samir, a member of the New Black Panther Party advocating the killing of “cracker babies.” This was the same member, who in November 2008 stood in front of a polling booth with a club yet, the justice department declined to prosecute (see: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=neGbKHyGuHU).

Although New Black Panther Party Chairman Malik Zulu Shabazz denounced the actions of a single member of his organization, in a July 9, 2010 interview, he stated, “King Samir is back in our organization, and in good standing within our organization.”

I recall the story where Congressmen Andre Carson and John Lewis claimed racism against the Tea Party. Seems the good congressmen “staged a walk through the Tea Party crowd in front of the capitol the day before the health care vote and claimed they were threatened by a violent mob and were subjected to the vile N word slur fifteen times.” Writer Andrew Breitbart offered a $100,000.00 reward he would donate to the United Negro College Fund if anyone could produce video or audio evidence that this actually occurred. Despite the number of cell phones with camera’s and recorders and the presence of news media, no evidence was ever presented.

Then there was the MSNBC attempt to show racism at a Tea Party meeting because one member had what appeared to be an assault rifle strung across their back (turned out the member was an African-American).

OK, thank you for allowing me to vent and explain my delusions of persecution. I was a bystander in the civil rights movement of the 1960’s and remember well the struggle and sacrifice of the activists, both of color and well, non-color. I know from my service in the army and a 30-year career in law enforcement that bias and prejudice are not exclusive to any particular race, but normally the Sunday comic strips allow me to escape the madness. I also know, as Columnist Tommy Christopher wrote, “The idea that whites are being persecuted is an irresistible notion to many Americans, an absolution from the need to take the full measure of our nation’s complicated racial history.”

I now return to Baldo. Gracie’s question to her father had to do with assimilation and so I thought I would turn to Merriam-Webster for guidance. The dictionary defines assimilate as the following:

a: to make similar
b: to alter by assimilation
c: to absorb into the culture or mores of a population or group

I identified three key words from Merriam-Webster: similar, alter and absorb. From the definition of assimilate, the words “similar” and “alter” do not imply the total abdication of one’s culture for another. In fact, the word similar is defined in part as;

1: having characteristics in common: strictly comparable

2: alike in substance or essentials.

To take components from one culture and alter or make them similar to another culture does not make them indistinguishable. In fact, the components from one culture can have the same characteristics or be alike in substance.

Baldo illustrators, Hector D. Cantu and Carlos Castellanos, would have one believe that to assimilate is wrong. To underscore their contempt for assimilation, they chose to define assimilation as the inheritance of the physical characteristics of a Caucasian. Baldo and his family soundly reject the concept of assimilation in favor of acculturation. So I turned once again to Merriam-Webster for assistance in the definition of acculturation:

1: cultural modification of an individual, group, or people by adapting to or borrowing traits from another culture; also: a merging of cultures as a result of prolonged contact

The word modification is synonymous with alter, which appeared in the definition of assimilation. Neither assimilation nor acculturation provides a choice of one culture over the other, but rather a merging of cultures. So, I am left wondering why Cantu and Castellanos, two talented illustrators, chose Caucasian comic characters to signify that any notion of assimilation would mean Baldo and his family would no longer be Hispanic.

Now to be fair about this discussion of assimilation, I did indeed find the following definition that would support the notion of Cantu and Castellanos:

A process by which members of an ethnic minority group lose cultural characteristics that distinguish them from the dominant cultural group or take on the cultural characteristics of another group (The Free Dictionary).

I am sure that Native American’s would agree with this definition as a result of the method in which we settled this country, but despite the cruelty and the hardships of reservation life, the Native American was still able to retain ancient customs unique to their culture.

Jingwei, from the City College of San Francisco, Tolerance wrote, “Usually, people who belong to different cultures have different ways to do things and solve problems. If people don't understand cultures other than their own, they may not understand what other people are doing or why they do in different ways. That's the misunderstanding between races. Conflicts emerge. Therefore, immigrants' assimilation into new cultures is very important to the society.”

12 years ago, William Branigin of the Washington Post, did a story on assimilation and interviewed Maria Jacinto. Jacinto became a U.S. citizen, but said she did not feel like an American. In fact, she was resistant to the idea of assimilating into U.S. society. "I think I'm still a Mexican," she said. "When my skin turns white and my hair turns blonde, then I'll be an American."

When her skin turns white and her hair turns blonde then she will be an American?! She is a citizen of the United States, yet considers herself a Mexican. In almost any city in America, local governments pride themselves on their diverse population. Cultural diversity is a descriptive title to recognize the multiple ethnic composition of a company or a city.

Tory King wrote about the Irish assimilation into American Culture during the 19th and 20th centuries and noted it was anything but easy. Irish immigrants, especially Irish Catholics were regarded as inferior to their Protestant counterparts already established in the United States. Irish Catholic immigrants were considered unskilled and worked in manual labor positions. The result was a general disdain for both Ireland and anything Irish and it is from this cultural and political attitude that the infamous phrase arose: “No Irish need apply” (BellaOnline, The Voice of Women).

Hispanics and Irish were hardly unique in the challenges of assimilation. Asians, particularly American born Japanese, had a difficult time following December 7, 1941. The prevailing attitude was American born Japanese would be loyal to Japan, even though many had never been to Japan.

From Asian-Nation: One reason why some immigrants assimilate faster than others is because of class differences. Some ethnic and immigrant groups on the whole have higher levels of education, job skills, and English proficiency than others. This in turn gives them specific advantages in achieving socioeconomic success faster than others by allowing them to get jobs that are higher-paying, more stable, and that offer higher status. As a result, they are able to achieve socioeconomic mobility and success faster than other groups ("Assimilation & Ethnic Identity" Asian-Nation: The Landscape of Asian America. ).

Peter D. Salins, Reason Magazine, wrote that in America, assimilation does not necessarily mean repudiating immigrant culture. Assimilation, American style has always been much more flexible and accommodating and, consequently, much more effective in achieving its purpose--to allow the United States to preserve its "national unity in the face of the influx of hordes of persons of scores of different nationalities," in the words of the sociologist Henry Fairchild.

Or, as our national motto so eloquently reads, “E Pluribus Unum (From Many, One).

Assimilation is not evil. It does not mean one becomes blonde haired and blue eyed. It does not mean being indistinguishable from each other. It does not mean having one religion or a master race. Perhaps the illustrators of Baldo should have shown a more diverse group in the panel and included comic strip characters from Watch Your Head, Candorville, The Boondocks, or Luther.

Friday, June 18, 2010

The Aging of Paul McInerny

Recently, The Red Room, an on line site for writers, asked its members to submit stories regarding aging. Specifically, they were looking for anecdote’s that enlighten their audience to the benefits of growing old(er). I thought of putting pen to paper, but all I could conjure up was the fact I was becoming more and more familiar with my anatomy and doctors who specialize in its particular abnormality.

Face Book can be a brutal reminder of the aging process. While I have an internal memory drive of how I feel and therefore how I should look, recent family photos had me scratching my head trying to figure out who the gray (white?) haired gentleman was in the photographs. I realize, of course, that the ancient one is me. I even startle myself at times when I gaze into the early morning mirror after climbing out of bed with the cracks and cringles of dormant muscle and bones.

Climbing out of bed? Even the act of arising from slumber has been amended from the energetic “jumping” out of bed to the arduous descriptive phrase of “climbing” out of bed. Now that I reflect on the specific act of removing myself from a prone position of comfort, it is indeed a grueling task requiring nearly as much energy as it takes for me to arise from a squatting position. Never mind what I was squatting for. Just take my word that stretching my entire body to a vertical position requires a surprising amount of effort.

As my cousin, Paul Michael and I (sorry Paul, but I am not going down alone) approach the magical age of 60, I am reminded of the words sometimes attributed to George Carlin regarding aging:

"Whoa! Put on the brakes, it's all slipping away. Before you know it, you REACH 50 . . . and your dreams are gone.
But wait!!! You MAKE it to 60. You didn't think you would!
So you BECOME 21, TURN 30, PUSH 40, REACH 50 and MAKE it to 60."

Hmmm…”make it” to 60? For now, I think I will stick with “approaching” 60. It sounds far less ominous, don’t you think?

So what are the benefits of aging? I gave this a great deal of consideration and one word that keeps hammering away in my deteriorating cranium: memories. I have many fond memories of my youth.

In my younger life, I listened to some pretty amazing and diverse music. My generation had the benefit of introducing the world to the Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Kinks, Eric Clapton, The Temptations, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, the Righteous Brothers, The Association, The Beach Boys, Sonny and Cher. Let us not forget the folk singers who inspired us for social change and equality such as Joan Baez, Peter, Paul & Mary, Pete Seeger, Bob Dylan and even Dick and Tommy Smothers. And who could ever forget the societal benefits of Tiny Tim. Ok, forget Tiny Tim. Most of the world already has.

After the army, I returned to Minnesota to perform in a band and even wrote an album of what Fingers Fox dubbed, “Sappy love songs.” Music was a tremendous part of my life and writing songs provided me a venting process for an often broken heart.

Aging has a way of reminding me of all that was good in life. My time growing up in Minneapolis and then Richfield, Minnesota was absolutely wonderful. My recollection is that I spent my summers mostly shoeless, preferring to run around barefoot and feeling the green grass between my toes, tempered by the occasional “sticker” that would penetrate my skin. Going in was painful enough, but pulling out a “sticker” was far worse.

There were countless summer picnics and gatherings at Minnehaha Falls where kids could roam the former stomping grounds of such notable figures as Minnehaha and Hiawatha, the Romero and Juliet of the American Indian culture. I remember on one outing, brother Roger and I saw TV personality Mel Jass (the movies are great on TCN”) hosting an event at Minnehaha Falls.

Speaking of TV, it was much different back then. Programs went off the air at midnight to the National Anthem; one had to actually get up and manually turn the TV on and off, change the channel or adjust the volume and there were only 7 stations or channels to choose from. Rabbit ears were a must. We watched the programs in black and white and enjoyed Casey Jones and Round House Rodney, Vivian Vulture, and good ol’ Axel’s Tree House.

I remember my first car with a great deal of fondness. It was a 1963 Chevy Corvair. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was a graduation gift from my wonderful parents for making it through high school. It served its purpose with distinction until I sold it a few months later when I enlisted in the army.

These personal memories are a product of an exceptional home life provided by my parents. They created atmosphere where the home was the safe haven. Dad was/is the one man in the world I most admire and wish I could emulate. Mom was/is the person who would always listen to what I had to say. While my parents have vehemently disagreed with some of the choices I have made in life, their love has been unfaltering, even in the most turbulent of times.

An integral part of my life has been my brothers and sisters. From our early childhood together to our separate adult lives, my siblings have stood shoulder to shoulder with me through personal difficulties, providing words of encouragement and support. We have grown (aged) together, despite the fact we are scattered throughout the United States.

Finally, my children have given me immense pleasure and joy. Although they are all adults now, I have so many fond memories of happy times together. My memories of Christmas with Brian, Jenna and Meghan will sustain me even in my darkest hour. As a young boy, Brian always wanted us to get the largest tree. To this day, Christmas at Brian's house will display the largest tree that will fit in the living room. Each day that I live, I enjoy the creation of new and wonderful memories with my children and grandchildren.

If you are reading this and have no idea or recollection of some of the names that I have mentioned – not to worry. You will have your own memories of times that you’ll share with your own names, categories, events and places. My point was to simply present the concept of memories as a positive element of aging. Remembering all that was good and simple during your time here on earth. Let go, if you can, that which has left its ugly mark in your life.

Now if you will excuse me, I must prepare to have my gall bladder removed. As I mentioned at the beginning of this piece, I have become more intimately familiar with my anatomy and the accompanying specialized doctors and surgeons.

Final word: On a recent return flight from Tennessee, I was sitting with another gentleman and woman. The woman asked me what I did for a living and I told her I was retired. She turned to the other gentleman and asked what he did for a living and he replied, “I’m a Naval Surgeon.” She turned to me and said, “Oh my. The doctors are really specialized, aren’t they?”

Make your own memories. Enjoy life.