my culture, my language, my history, my life... and now.

my culture, my language, my history, my life... my now.

By Bobbi Jo Chavarria
May 16, 2010
The first time that I watched the movie about the tejano singer Selena, I was saddened that I hadn't known of her and her music before she died.

I remember hearing of her death only because of the controversy that it had created with one of Gil's (my husband) favorite radio personalities, Howard Stern. He had commented about her death, and in his unique style, found a sick and twisted way to make a joke. From what I recall part of the joke had to do with the craziness of the situation itself, in that the murderer was a business partner and fan club president who was believed to have stolen from the fan club and Selena went to meet her by herself in an early morning meeting at a hotel room. And then, some comments about the music in general because he, like me, had no clue at all about tejano music, its popularity, its draw, or her tremendous role in the genre.

This became relevant for me because Selena's cross-over album and concert tour that was to begin in the summer of that year was being sponsored Sears, and I worked at the credit card call-in center for Sears. Fans were outraged by Stern's jokes and called for Sears to boycott advertising on his show. We were all briefed on a press release, and on what to say to customers if they called in about the issue.

Tejano music was absolutely nothing that I knew anything about and so I knew nothing of Selena. I was much more aware, saddened, and shaken by Kurt Cobain's death the year before. Knowing very little of the singer's popularity and huge following, it all seemed very much out of left field and I don't actually remember receiving a complaint from a credit card customer or hearing anyone else in the department having received one.

At the time, I didn't speak Spanish and was still carrying the idea that I never would learn, and had sufficiently forsaken my family's ethnic background for many, many years at this point. My mother doesn't speak Spanish, can't even roll her r's. My father is not fluent either. My grandparents spoke to me in a weird combination we know as Spanglish, and always accepted and understood my responses in English. My first name does not even translate into Spanish.

This brings me back to the movie of Selena’s life story. An ironic factoid was that Selena herself was not fluent in Spanish. She sang the songs in Spanish, but did not speak it, as her parents didn't speak it to their children. English was their language. Her father, a musician, like my father, was into oldies and rock'n'roll. And that was the first type of music Selena and her band had played. And yet, she became a cultural icon of this ethnic music genre, tejano, that is absolutely Spanish-language only. In just a few brief scenes, this cultural/ethnic/language clash is played out when Selena is about to be interviewed by the Mexican media and her father is afraid of what will happen when her fans find out she doesn't speak Spanish.

I watched the movie on cable, obviously after its release in 1997, not sure exactly when. But it was definitely after a personal shift in my thinking. The music, in the context of the movie and her life story, was powerful. Her voice was beautiful and amazing. And if the scenes demonstrating her performance power over an audience weren't crazily exaggerated, her tremendous popularity made sense to me now.
And the tragic end of her life made me sad, and that sadness stayed with me for a long while. But added to that sadness was the fact that I hadn't known of her. That I didn't know what the words meant to "Como La Flor" (Like a Flower). I was sad that I hadn't thought to listen to Spanish-language music. That I hadn't danced a cumbia or a salsa at my wedding. I was sad for the culture that I hadn't thought was a part of who I was.

This, of course, is all very relevant now. We come full circle over and over again, don't we? I just watched a video, posted by a new friend, of Frida Kahlo and a song, in Spanish, called, "Esa Noche." A love song. I don't understand all the words. I am still learning Spanish. But the music alongside another cultural icon that I had known nothing about before a movie of her life was made here in the United States, was powerful. And I was moved. And I was brought to a weird and crazy thought that I had believed I was over.

I was going to repost the video on my Facebook profile. And then this idea that maybe I shouldn't because I am running for office, and people who don't know me, might think I'm all about Spanish music, and might define me by that, as they have already defined me by my speaking out for comprehensive immigration reform, for my speaking out against 287(g), for speaking for peace, for my being of some mixed heritage that is clearly not Anglo-Saxon European.

This is what societal intolerance does to an individual. Even to one who is trying very hard to live love, acceptance, peace and justice. Even to me.

This is the confusion it imparts upon children, upon our brothers and sisters, literally, our brothers and sisters (like me) who absolutely forsake all the beauty of a multi-cultural background. Who don't speak Spanish or their parents or grandparent's native language, who refuse to teach it to their children, who change their name, or the pronunciation of it.

This is why we have to do better. Because we can do better than severing off the beautiful things - language, music, art, and history - that make us who we are - a connected humanity.

So, of course, I am learning Spanish. Of course, I am teaching my son. Of course, I reposted the video.

And, of course, I am going to a march in Claremont in just a few hours to ask Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security to halt the 287(g) program, to halt the immigration raids, and to work with all due haste to provide real security with a comprehensive reform to our current immigration policy.

And of course, later I will be in Riverside to help celebrate the dedication of a peace pole. Just like the one that I hope to bring to our city very soon, with a call to peace, in as many languages as we can think of.

Posted on:
http://meinaction.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-culture-my-language-my-history-my.html


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