5 10 49 Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview Marta Caminero-Santangelo Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed Hugo Language of Interview English Format Video, audio only, text only Audio Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound Hugo (H) Marta (M) H: Well…I just wanted to start with saying that my experience as a Latino, Latinx male here in the Midwest does come with a lot of barriers, especially when my parents are both–are both immigrants and I consider myself first-generation. H: I'm the first one to go to college and my family, even though my older brother–he could have gone, but unfortunately, he doesn't have the means to go for certain reasons. But I guess my story, it really does start with, like, you know, like, when I was I guess when I was younger. H: When every time…I guess when I went to school, I always kinda felt ashamed of the part of who I am when I'm at home. I didn't want to share that to anybody. I didn't really feel, like at least when I was younger, I didn't really feel comfortable showing my Mexican side or the side that I show at home simply because I didn't know if that was accepted or or whatever. H: But I think as I grew older, I started to see kind of like, you know, I started to embrace that part of myself. H: I guess the reason why I felt like I couldn't show who I was or at least how I was in–I guess where I am like in my household was because I always saw that white was kinda like that being white was always a standard. H: You know I was very much influenced by TV, music, movies, and that was always kinda like the standard, like I always kinda was like this is what a family should be like. It should always be like the nuclear family. It should be a mom, dad, son and a daughter. And I was wondering like, why–why don't I have that? H: I just started, like, basically to question like, who I'm who I was, what–what exactly my identity is. H: It wasn't very…it was very recently when I found that like I started to kinda embraced it. Embrace it in my high school. It was like my first time ever taken a Spanish class, my first year. H: And that's when I saw like, Oh hey, like, you know, I mean, I'm not the best, the best Spanish speaker, but at least, at least I can kinda see where I'm kind of not necessarily. I'm like I'm not good at. H: I guess the reason why I tried to I guess I tried to be more connected to my roots and everything like that was because they saw that there was other people who were more, who started to embrace their own–their own culture, their own background. H: Especially like my Spanish teachers who were very much proud of who they were, very much proud of where they came from. Like I had one Spanish teacher who was from Querétaro, Mexico, and one teacher, if I believe, from Costa Rica. And they, they kinda like, kinda just showed me like hey like I shouldn't be afraid of who I am. H: Why am I also, for me, I'm also very passionate about, like, storytelling. Like I became more passionate about storytelling in the past year. H: And one of the things that my parents always do is they always told me stories about where they came from, how–how they came to the United States, what they did here in the United States before I was born, especially my father. H: Like he before he settled here in Kansas City with my mother, he actually lived in California and he would always told me stories about him working as a crew, a kitchen crew member or things like that. And he would always kind of like–he would always just share those experiences with me and somehow he would like embed a lesson between them. H: So it was like just hearing how storytelling can also give a lesson, encapsulate, encapsulate a lesson in between them that kinda, like, inspired me to want to continue to share stories. It was mostly because of my father and I think my parents have most definitely become such strong role models in my life. H: When I was, when I was younger, that was kinda like the opposite. I felt like I neglected them a little bit simply because I wasn't proud of why I am. H: But now that I'm realizing that they sacrificed so much for me that they–they've gone through so many obstacles you've done so much for me to be here, be in school, be able to go to college, be–have the ability to go to college, and have other opportunities that they can’t–they can’t always have. They were able to provide that for me. H: My parents are like the reason why I do a lot of things that I do. H: They, especially my dad, they inspire me to want to go into like–into film simply because I want to be able to share stories, tell stories, and not just like, like like, you know, like through pen and paper but mostly like visually. H: But I think in my essay when I wrote everything like that, that kind of like how everything kind of culminates into who I am, like, what kind of like how, how I came to be. I was mostly just inspired by, like, all my experiences. I'm like… H: At one point I felt like I was whitewashed. But then I realized, like, there's a part of me that I can't let go and that's being being Mexican–that's being who I am. But there's also this issue that I didn't necessarily…I wasn't born in Mexico and I was born here in America. So I was kind of like, where do I, where do I land? H: Where, where am I between these two identities? H: And that's, that's kinda like the question that I kind of tried to answer in that essay. Like, where exactly do I stand in between being American and being Mexican? H: Because I guess like my identity is–it's it can be very confusing, especially because I've never been to Mexico. But what I've experienced like my Mexican culture through my parents. I've experienced American culture by just experiencing here in the United States. H: But I also like, like I included this quote from the movie Selena, the biopic, where Abraham says to Selena and AB, that we, Mexican-Americans have to work twice as hard as Mexicans and Americans. We have to be as perfect as the Mexicans and as perfect as the Americans. H: Somewhere on those lines, I forgot how it goes, but that whole kind of like brought it all together. It kind of like, you know, like what we did is basically where do I stand? And I think that could really explain my situation. H: But I think the more I thought about that question, the more I thought about that statement, I learned that I can be both Mexican and American without having to stand by these standards or be defined by the standards of society. And embrace who I am. H: Like I don't have to choose this side or that side. I can, I can most definitely embraced them both at the same time. H: Like even though, even though in the past, like it has, the American culture has most definitely dominated who I was. I feel like I'm starting to come to a balance between both both being Mexican and being an American. H: I think they're like, I think another thing that, another aspect of my essay that I included was like, like how the title goes, “The Unwritten Rules of Living in My Mexican Household.” Like the rules that are in there in my essay, they're not, they're not technically, they're kind of like these made-up rules that I made that I've experienced through my parents. H: Like even though they never really sat set rules, It's like these rules were never like they're not written down and put in the living room so that we can read them more than just like they're just like rules that you've already lived through the day my parents expect me to follow, but not necessarily know them. H: And I don't know if that makes any sense. But they're just kinda like these rules that you you just know. They're not just rules: they're just statements. H: But a lot of the reason why I added those that aspect was because all of my life, I had to live by rules. I had to like I said before, like I wanted to I'm live this life that was perfect, that it follows these certain criteria. H: And like in the end, those rules aren't necessarily always good to follow or… H: And that's why like towards the end of my essay, I say that “sometimes these rules are meant to be broken” because you have to learn you have to learn them like a professional during them like a pro and break them like a profession. H: And I feel like because I've been able to break those rules between both American and Mexican side. It has to be me more, I guess, open to a lot of a lot of aspects of who I am. H: I also included those rules just for just as a way to kinda transition between topics. Because even though some topics do kind of like intertwine with each other, it was kind of hard to like just do like a, like a just a straight prose. H: I couldn't, I couldn't really wrap my head around just pulling just just talking all about me when I wanted to have something that could break up these like a breakup like these, these paragraphs and have a certain topic for each. H: But I think like for me, I was also really inspired by, by, I forgot his name but he was Ta-Nehesi Coates, the writer of Between the World and Me. He would, just talk about his experiences. I remember reading that essay in my English Composition 2 class. Dr. Paula concentrate gone. She made us read it and I was really inspired by that one. H: I was also inspired by another, another essay called Scholar Boy. I think I forgot who the author was, but that essay also really inspired me because it kinda like gave me that reassurance that my experiences have just like a unique one. It's some other people are actually experiencing them. And that kind of reassured me that, hey, like, I'm not alone here in this world, I'm not alone. And that was alone with my experiences and that made me feel better. H: But it was also really inspired by, by a lot of things that Issa Rae does. I think that she's a great filmmaker and writer. And she most definitely has these experiences. She taught, she normalizes these experiences and I wanted to write something that I wanted to normalize. H: And I was, I was very much inspired by a lot of these comedy, comedy people, I guess I would say like his comedy writers. Because like I wanted to, I wanted to keep my essay kind of lighthearted. I didn't want to go deep into like, into like a very existentialist topic or, you know, area. H: Because I felt like even though my experiences is something that I like, I need to I need to reflect on. I wanted to reflect on it on like in a very humorous way. That's when like some parts that are kind of like in a way very humorous, but at the same time they do, they do relate to experiences that I've had. H: But overall, I think my essay really does do a lot for who I am and points out like the things that my parents who inspires me, and that’s most definitely them, my parents who have sacrificed so much for me just to be here. H: And now, I didn't just write that essay for me. I wrote it for them because they most definitely have had a huge impact on my identity. My identity and even like parts of who I am. H: I feel like–feel like I covered most everything. M: Thank you so much. I want to say I do have a couple of questions just to ask you for follow-up, but I want to say, first of all, I was totally nodding and “a-ha”ing. I was totally with you all throughout. M: But I do want to say you are so thoughtful and articulate about your craft, whether the craft is writing or what you wanna do with filmmaking. So I just want to say more power to you. M: You're obviously just putting so much thought into not just what you want to get across, but how do you want to get it across and what style do you want to get it across in? And how do you break things up and how do you talk about yourself but not unrelentingly and just all those decisions are so thoughtful. M: So I want to say for what it's worth, it sounds like you're on the road to success and I think, and I hope you have amazing success. H: Thank you, I really appreciate it. M: I'm with you on the power of storytelling, visual or, or textual. I mean, there's nothing as powerful as the story. So that's kinda why I'm doing this. M: So you grew up–you grew up in Kansas City? H: Yes. I grew up in Kansas City. I think me and my little brother are the only ones who grew up in Kansas City. My older brother, he well–he was born in Mexico, but he was brought to Kansas City, I believe. After my dad came back to Mexico to get my mom and my brother to go back to the United States. M: And so in Kansas City, but not like an Argentine, not in a Latinx community in Kansas City? H: Well, yeah, I was born. I don't know. It's very weird because like when I was younger, I feel like I didn't really notice that most of my classmates were Hispanic and Latino demographics. So it was kinda like, you know, like I didn't know if I could relate to or not, but I did grow up in a very predominantly Hispanic and Latino and Black community. H: I grew up in Wyandotte County, I want to say in like in the northeast side. H: But yeah, I did grow up around there. M: And even surrounded by Latina, other Latinos, you still felt like that what you were describing, that you sounds like you were ashamed or weren't quite sure what to write and you're Mexican background, even even surrounded by other Latinos? H: I think I think it was just mostly because I didn't know much about my Mexican culture and I felt like maybe they don't know either. So it was like, hey, like if I share these experiences, they're probably going to think I'm weird. H: So it was–it was kinda like at least like when I was younger, I think now I'm more like, Oh, I'm much older. A lot of people. Their–“to each their own” they're their own culture and more understanding of at least myself and about other people. H: I feel like back then I was just very much naive about what other backgrounds of the people are. I think it was just because of my childhood mentality. M: But it's interesting that your school wasn't celebrating Cinco de Mayo? H: Yeah. I feel like my school never really acknowledged those aspects of his being Hispanic, being Latino, being black, Asian, etc. I feel like they most definitely did have the students. I felt like there was never really like a acknowledgement of these different cultures. M: Wow… H: I feel like not, not just in elementary, but also in middle school. I feel like because I went to a much more rigorous high-school, I feel like that's when I actually just started to see that people actually do celebrate each other's culture is and everything like that. M: Yeah, that's kinda intense that they were just sort of ignoring the cultural origins of a substantial portion of their student body. H: eah, I feel at least that's how I felt, at least when I was a child. I remember they'd like in middle school and most definitely just wasn't a huge thing. Obviously, we didn't have kinda like when we have those like dances, they would have like Mexican bachata and cumbia, all that. But it wasn't necessarily it was just mostly small request. H: But like when it came to like teachers or staff or the admin, they never really kinda like acknowledged. It was just mostly kinda like, like, oh, we have these students, they're there. They come from urban background. H: And I feel like now that I've, now that I'm thinking about it and you brought it up, it does kind of make me think like, oh hey, you like, because they didn't do that. That makes this part of the reason why a lot of kids like me go through these kind of thoughts. M: Absolutely. I mean, my kids grew up in Lawrence, Kansas, which is a pretty, you know, very predominantly white place. But their school served a very large, their elementary schools serve to large. It served all the international students. M: So there were always celebrations, intercultural international celebrations and taking pride in your heritage. And I just can't even imagine, yeah. My kid to a school where somehow they'd be made to feel sad? H: Yeah. And I mean, like the only I think the only way we were able to even celebrate our own culture was just at home. And I feel like that's the reason why I felt like that–that, you know, if it's a home, I can't really show it to the world. H”: But yeah, I think now that I think about, I think it was my environment that most definitely impacted that. M: Yeah. I have to leave in a minute-and-a-half, but let me get these two things out before I do. One, if you have not read Richard Rodriguez, Hunger of Memory… H: I think that's the, the author. M: In some ways his experience sounds a lot like yours. Yeah. His first memoir was called Hunger of Memory. And there's an essay in that called something like aria. Blah, blah, blah, blah. You should totally check that out. H: Yes, thanks. M: A lot like yours, except it sounds like you grew beyond it and maybe he never did. H: I read his essay “The Scholarship Boy” one and it was kind of like, oh, so you never acknowledged who he was? I think I think that's most definitely inspired me. Even though I know it was kind of he never really like how you said “went past it”. It still made me want to acknowledge at least like when I was writing the essay. M: Well, and he's a brilliant writer and he's been embraced, in part. He's embraced by Anglo-America precisely because he's such a strong voice for assimilation. H: Yeah. M: But it's interesting like I can't help feeling like his environment molded him so completely that he could not– H: He could not go back to it. M: But I also wanted to ask quickly before I leave. so I really do have to go. But where are your parents from and like, when did they get here and what were the circumstances? Can you give me the short version? H: I think both of them were raised in Durango, Mexico. I don't know exactly where they were born that I need to ask. I should have asked him that. H: I think they may have came…my dad. I don't know for sure. I think he may came like around the eighties, maybe nineties. My mom for sure came right after my little brother was my older brother was born. So it was like 1999. M: Were they married already? H: Yeah, I think they were married. They were married. And then after–after my older brother was born, when he turned one years or one year old, they moved to Kansas City. H: I don't remember what the circumstances were, but I do think that it was mostly like better opportunities in the United States. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Hugo Subject The topic of the resource Oral history from Durango, Mexico to Kansas City, Kansas. Description An account of the resource Hugo grew up in Kansas City and his parents are from Durango, Mexico. In this interview, he talks about his experience with his Latinx identity, his gratitude for his parents, and how he is passionate about storytelling in many different forms. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1990s Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Kansas City, Kansas Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <iframe width="400" height="285" id="kmsembed-1_2w1u03s8" src="https://mediahub.ku.edu/embed/secure/iframe/entryId/1_2w1u03s8/uiConfId/45147491/st/0" class="kmsembed" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" allow="autoplay *; fullscreen *; encrypted-media *" referrerpolicy="no-referrer-when-downgrade" sandbox="allow-downloads allow-forms allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation allow-pointer-lock allow-popups allow-modals allow-orientation-lock allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-presentation allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" frameborder="0" title="Hugo (1).MP4"></iframe> Culture Differences Education Identity Kansas City Language Mexico Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview Marta Caminero-Santangelo Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed Greg Language of Interview English Format Video, audio only, text only Audio City (Region, State) and Country of Origin for 2nd and 3rd generation, this is the place of family's origin Ghana Current City of Residence Where in Kansas or Missouri the Interviewee currently lives Garden City, Kansas Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound Marta (M) Greg (G) G: It was about August 2014 that I was asked by my authority I mean, to church. To church. G: I was asked by my authority to come to the United States of America to study for my master's degree. And actually that was the first time I was traveling outside my country. I come from Ghana in the west part of Africa. G: So 2014, some day in August. I was first say I came to Ohio to steady for two years. And it was quite an interesting experience for me because there were so many things that I wasn't used to , hich having come here I got to learn. G: My first experience of being here was that United States is, I already know, is the greatest country admirably on the planet, on this Earth. So when I came here, my view of USA was really true. G: And so I began my studies after having spent about only two weeks. And the first time I went to the school, I was a bit–a little bit surprised because I was the only black guy in the midst of this…White Americans and the language was really very tough for me to understand the lecturers because we have quite a different accent. G: I learned English back in Ghana. [In] Ghana English is a second language, so I have my own local dialects. G: That the first culture shock for me was, you know, the accent. I couldn't really understand what the lecturers so I tell it I had to because I need that to do the course. But about three weeks time, I began to really understand them well. And they could also understand me. G: So that story. The first culture shock was about the accent, which was difficult for me to hear. And I believe they also find it difficult to hear me. G: And another experience…I have another experience was about the weather because we're going to the winter, which I've never seen snow my life early–only in television. G: So first morning, the guy I used to live with, he really knew where I was coming from. And so he.somewhere in November that I had my first snow after waking up from sleeping in the morning, I opened my window and I saw this. So let's say I had to go into it, how it is. Okay. G: Then after that I experience, it took me three years to finish the course back in Ohio. G: And my authority again asked me to come to Kansas to continue with my church ministry. G: And coming from Ohio to Kansas was also quite a different experience. With time, I got used to the Kansas weather it's like the wind was one of the things that caught my attention, especially driving on the road and meeting the semi. The car will shake like [unknown] and I said, Wow, time. G: I also got used to the Kansas whether the wind, yeah. G: And having been here for about six years now, there are so many things I have learned from the people I have worked with. Their hospitality, generosity, how they care about people, how they are able to support one way or the other. My ministry. And also the way some people meet you on the street or the park and they smile. They don't know you but they will smile and say “hi”. G: It was quite a nice experience for me, you know? G: Yeah. I've been in Kansas I think about four years now. And I've lived here pretty well. G: Another challenge for me now is about the food. You know, I had to learn how to eat American food, Mexican food..And where I am, it is really hard to get to an African market except to, maybe we're just grabbing from here to wait. 4 hours drive [and I] cannot be going there often. G: So I have to manage with what I have here. So I enjoy some of the food, some others too, you know, you have to. But occasionally, I tried to cook and prepare my own meal where I come from, our favorite meal is fufu. G: We eat fufu, we eat rice, we eat fish. And there are so many local dishes that I cannot get here. G: Also, I miss church because we have, as an African, we have–we have our, our way of our own way of worship, music, dancing, same game. So here everything is like solemn, seems to be solemn. G: But there, there are so much music dancing and when people are in check the pour their hearts out. The bands are cultural dance and that kind of thing. G: So sometimes I miss the music. G: And also other times too, I miss talking to the family. We have a standard and nuclear family. Your aunties, your grand–your uncles. Yeah, grandpas–we are so closely knit. So sometimes also, I miss my mom and my dad, but I tried to go home once every year just to see them and come back. Yeah. G: So I like–I like living here; I've learned so much, so many great things: how to be efficient in my ministry and wanting that we Africans, we lack is about our time. You know, we don't, we don't really, we are not punctual in so many aspects. G: But here, another surprise was when church begins, let's say four [it starts at] is four, not even 1 minute. And after chest starts, nobody comes in. And it was very shocking. G: Back in Africa, four will be five. You know, people will late. G: Yeah. So these are some of the things–the way people respond to tie, the way people enjoy the games, you know, the way that some will meet you. So nice weather. And I am like, “What is nice about this weather?” We're not used to that kind of thing. Yeah. People. G: People really…I’ve–I've really learned so many things. That's, I think when I go back to Africa, I'm going to be so much efficient in what I do. G: And what's really here. Sometimes you meet one or two people who are cold to you. The idea, one, I guess a few people and I think I've only had one encounter about somebody being rude to me. But in a nutshell, some wonderful people, great people, but you cannot have it all–we are from different backgrounds and different perspectives. G: So my stay in United States has been a blessing, a great blessing, as I might say, both in spiritual economy. Such a huge blessing for me. And I said place, I've come to love and live but because of my mission. I would have to go back home sometime, someday. And anytime I leave, I think I'll forever be grateful to this great nation. Yeah. G: So in a nutshell, I think my experience here has been that of I would say, a blessing. Yeah. This is what I can share. G: I come from a family of eight. My mom and dad's still living. My dad was a silver seven and my mom was a business woman. Yeah. So all of us were educated. G: And some people have this impression about Africa that is poverty, disease. Yeah, quite a good number of people are poor. But we have good number of people also who can..who or who have made it. So it is not all about, you know, it's not bad. But I think leaders in the continent could do better. So. G: Yeah, it's nice also to be in Africa. There are so many nice places. Beaches you go to Mozambique, Tanzania. Yeah. South Africa. Yeah. So, but I'm from West Africa happening. Yeah, sure. G: So nice sharing this experience with you. I thank you for. God bless. M: Thank you so much. Can I ask you some follow-up questions? Yeah. Okay. First of all, I wanted to say about the time thing. That is also true of Latin Americans. Yeah, I call it Latin-American time because I'm from Latin American background, but my parents are Cuban. G: Okay. M: I love other things about Latin American culture. I love that everyone talks at the same time. Yeah, interrupts each other. And it's all good. It's fine. It's wonderful. M: But the one thing I cannot, just a great deal of difficulty with Latin American time for me for is for yeah. G: Same as African see, yeah. M: Yeah. So let me just walk through some things I had questions about and you're as you talked about, can you tell us a little bit about you said you It's really hard to get African food and I can see that, yeah. You said some US food or Mexican food you like and I assume some of you don't like, could you go into a little bit more detail about that? G: Oh, I do like–I like enchiladas. I like tacos with pescadao–fish. I love. Yeah. Actually, most Mexican food are quite similar to what I'm used to. So any Mexican food–comida? Yes. I'll I'll go foreign. And even the American food. Yes, I like fish more, but here most people eat beef, steak, you know. Yeah. But I'm a fish. Actually, yes. Yeah. Yeah. M: Have you been to California at all? G: No. M: I love fish tacos. G: And they have California? M: Yeah. G: Yeah. Okay. M: So then you mentioned just very briefly about your ministry. Is there anything you want to say about that? About ministering to Kansans in Garden City? G: Yeah. My ministry is–mainly I'm a priest and minister to all manner of people, the elderly, the youth, the young. We have the school, sometimes I do teach once a while. We have a church school which I teach, you know. So I mean…full church ministry. Yeah. We do funerals and I do weddings and yeah. M: And I think you said church here seems to be a little sullen? Is that what you said? G: Solemn–solemn, not sullen…. M: S U L L E N, sullen? G: SOLEMN, solemn. M: Oh, solemn, right? G: Yes, solemn. M: And in Africa it's more celebratory? G: Yes. Yeah. M: Can you say a little bit more about that? I thought that was super interesting. G: In church back in Africa, a church, a typical Sunday weekend church takes about, say, 2 hours 30 minutes or 3 hours. Here, a church–Sunday church weekend church takes about 1 hour. G: So when we go to church in Africa. People come because of so many music and dancing. G: It takes even an offertory. Three people dance their hand out to give God the gifts. You know? So it's like a big church. It could take about 30 min or 1 hour for even the dancer low. And the sermon also tastes quite a longer time. G: You know, it's about the concept of time. [On the] weekend people have so much time to be in church. But here, you know, you have to [do everything in] 1 hour. Yeah. So there are so much you can do back home than here. G: But here is also, it gives you the clergy. You know, a little bit time to relax. You know, it's not all that demanding as compared to, you know, Africa, yeah. M: That's interesting. I wonder if Americans are–I don't know–they are so solemn and not celebratory. G: Yeah. M: Let's see…There was one other question I wanted to ask… G: Oh, you had mentioned that in general, your experience of the Midwest was very nice that people would smile at you, which is true, yeah? G: Yeah. M: Midwest west, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. M: Did you–have you encountered anything that you interpreted as racism or xenophobia or… G: Yeah. I think I did encounter–I did have an experience with a lady, white lady. I was going to renew my license. G: And it's like the first time I went, I think I have not brought all that documents I needed. I had come from Ohio with a driver license and it's expired and how to get a new one here. So when I was going to renew it, get a Kansas license, she told me to go get the other documents which I had forgotten, I think a proof of residence or whatever, I just left it at home. G: And the second time I went, I met the same lady who saw me. I said No. She wasn't ready to let me go to after having looked at all my documents and staff. And he had to send my document, headquarters or some place to get approved [to see if] it is authentic. G: And I told her, you know, look at my old license as you can check everything and this lady wouldn't let me. G: So I went there for the third time and she says, “No; there's no way.” And apparently I had to go to another city to do it, which when I went, they just did it. G: So I think I don't know. I wouldn't say I didn't know her motives, but there was nothing to deny me, but either she just didn't wasn't ready to, you know, It's like she was she saw me too–I don't know what that was suspicious of me, you know? I don't know. Yeah. M: And was that–Where was that? Was that in Garden City? G: no, it was in Dodge City. M: And where was the city that you went where there were no problems.? G: Hayes. M: Interesting. Okay. I think those are all my questions. M: Is there anything–Any last thoughts you want to share with the young people? G: Yeah. I think that young people, what I was saying is, you know, in the midst of what is going on. The global stuff. There is always an opportunity to be a different person. In the true sense of the word. G: You know, some people copy things blindly. Peer influence–but the life that we have given to us by God is so precious that we should always keep it protected. So they should try as much as possible to abstain from drugs or alcohol. And they should focus on their careers, education. Their jobs career, career orientation should–they should focus on that. G: And the sky, I believe, would be the limit. G: But the bad side of social media craze and they should be careful about all those things which probably [if] they don't take care could affect affect the potential for the future. Yeah. G: So they should just focus on the things that are good and leave the rest to, you know. Yeah. M: Thank you so much. I really appreciate this. G: Yeah. M: I really appreciate your telling me your story and I really appreciate the things that you said. Yeah. Okay. G: And another thing that I forgot to say is the sophistication here. Here everything is kind of internet based computer back home in Africa, only the big cities. G: And here, I am surprised, you have water throughout, electricity, throughout. G: Back home in Africa. Know there are places the are, they are in darkness. They don't get water to drink. But here, there is so much blessings here and people don't see. G: And I will recommend that the some also travel outside America, to have other experiences. G: And it's all really helped them to appreciate the blessings that they have here. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Greg Subject The topic of the resource Oral history from Ghana to Garden City, Kansas Description An account of the resource Greg is from Ghana but lives in Garden City, Kansas. He shares his experiences about living in the U.S. Although he misses food like fufu, he has learned to enjoy Mexican and American food as well: he specifically likes enchiladas and tacos. One thing Greg enjoys about the U.S. is how friendly the people are. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <iframe width="400" height="285" id="kmsembed-1_pj5xrgal" src="https://mediahub.ku.edu/embed/secure/iframe/entryId/1_pj5xrgal/uiConfId/45147491/st/0" class="kmsembed" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" allow="autoplay *; fullscreen *; encrypted-media *" referrerpolicy="no-referrer-when-downgrade" sandbox="allow-downloads allow-forms allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation allow-pointer-lock allow-popups allow-modals allow-orientation-lock allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-presentation allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" frameborder="0" title="Heartland Greg Trimmed"></iframe> Community Culture Differences Garden City Ghana Language Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview Marta Caminero-Santangelo Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed Alex Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Video Language of Interview English City (Region, State) and Country of Origin for 2nd and 3rd generation, this is the place of family's origin Mexico Current City of Residence Where in Kansas or Missouri the Interviewee currently lives Garden City, Kansas Transcript Alex (A): Do you want me to start, I guess, like just quick quickly clarifying live with my parents stories and other kind of became into my story that sort of thing. A: And…so a lot of stuff that I know actually it came about in…uh...different snippets. So like everything they tell me it wasn't like but they sent me down one time and it's like here's our entire story sometimes it's like every once in a while I’ll sit down and they'll be like and then they'll tell me like another snippet of what happened and so it's like learning little bits and pieces as I go along, and so a lot of things i'm going to be honest, like I may not be like 100% accurate and I feel like that's just part of like the storytelling in a piece of it because it's like well. A: I don't really know…they [Alex’s parents] just get sometimes we're just like having lunch or dinner or something, let me down and be like oh yeah, by the way we also did this, we were younger and I'll be like oh I didn't know that. A: But like essentially the story, as I know it is…so they were growing up in the little village in Durango. It was about a couple hundred people–wasn't something that was big. A: Their area really didn't have like a lot of like electricity didn't have like you know Internet like indoor plumbing like none of that; it was a pretty rural community. A: And so my parents actually didn't finish school all the way: they had to drop out of school so they can [sic] help my parents and my grandparents on the farm. My grandpa on my dad's side would come over to the States to work in some kind of industry. He would make his way all the way up to Chicago actually because that's where other people that he knew were at and so he would go up there, they worked in the industry and he would leave behind like my grandma with my aunts and uncles: there was [sic] quite a few of them, I think there was like seven of them seven or eight of them. A: And so when my dad came of age, he actually started going up with my grandpa over to Chicago and started working in such too..ummm..I think he was actually maybe a little younger than I was because I'm 26 and [he] might have been this early 20s when it started happening. A: So it's interesting because a lot of it's like he also kind of grew up here in the states as well, in a way, because of that reason. A: And so, he would do that stuff…he lived up here, I want to say for maybe like almost a 10 years he did that and then he went back down to Mexico and in the same village that they were at he married my mom. A: And then afterwards they started…he started come up here and work again and then my mom came over here and started working. A: I actually remember like bits and pieces of stories about how my mom told me how she came over here. She crossed the the border just kind of like a train. It was like a train tracks kind of area there was like–walk across. This was before they [the U.S. government] started paying like huge attention to like the southern border and stuff too so see just seems kind of came. A: And then see what tell me how that was also her first time getting on an airplane because they went to I don't remember exactly the name of the town, but they went a certain town and from there, she caught like an airplane to like another city and met with met up with my dad here in the States. A: I remember her telling me that, like how like everyone around her was like kind of like afraid because she was coming in with a group of people like she was relatively young so she didn't really like you know, like she wasn't really aware of how big the situation was like that how I don't want to say grave, but like how like you know just these the seriousness of it all. A: And so, she thought it was funny that some people were really nervous and whatever. She knows she got on an airplane and came over here. A: But eventually they did that, for a while, then they came to Colorado actually. They came to–I think it was like an onion or a pickle plant or something it was near or is La Junta, Colorado…so is a couple miles, maybe a couple hours like three hours roughly West where the currently at now so it's Eastern Colorado. A: And they lived there with family until my sister was born. My sister was born in Colorado, actually. A: And then they heard about an opportunity at the meat processing plant town, because I had an uncle who worked there. My uncle was like hey like, if you want somewhere steady where your kids can grow up and it's a nice environment, you know small, quiet. and calm. You can come work over here and like there's opportunity here because there's work and everything, and so my family moved over there and. A: I only recently found out about this, but like it was my dad's intention to actually go back up to Chicago someday. But because the environment in Garden [City] was like so quiet and nice and everything so he's like well, this is a good place for me to raise my family that isn't like a city, environment and I don't want my kids to go into like gangs or to do any of that stuff so they stayed there. A: So I was actually born in Garden [City]--it was like 1995. A: I don't know how long they live there actually but I know it's been a minute since…few years. A: And I was born and raised there…went to school there and did everything else too. A: You know it wasn't…For me, like I was described Garden [City] as an interesting place to live generally because whenever I tell anybody like the reason why they know about it it's either because, like they know about it because they studied it like it's some kind of like diversity thing that people look at and that's mainly the reason why they hear about it. A: So usually my elevator pitch is to tell people about it like from my house I can walk over…you know there's some like authentic Vietnamese food, I can get some like some authentic spring rolls there's like that goes there's like tacos..and then there's Long John Silver's and all that stuff like traditional American traditional like Mexican and traditional Vietnamese all in one strip [mall]. A: So I can just walk in and get all that stuff there. A: And part of that's because Tyson…you know the way they bring different waves of immigrants over and everything else too. A: You never know exactly like who exactly is being brought over this time. So one time, I was talking to my dad it's like oh yeah now they’re [Tyson] is bringing Cubans over you know. A: And so there was a way of the Cuban people coming over and so it's just like different waves of people that just happened to come over. A: You know, and then it's interesting because I didn't until I actually started studying Garden [City] I didn't realize the like the actual history of it, where it's like Tyson or like back then, it was IBP made the intentional effort of like opening offices and Mexico City and actually telling people, they would bring him over and like stuff like that to him. A: In Garden [City] there's a trailer park called “trailers de IBP.” A: I didn't know why that was…like I just like..oh that's just I just assumed that just because we're a bunch of people work at IBP lived at. But it actually turns out that IBP had a thing, where it's like hey we're they actually had property of that and they're like we have these trailers here, so our workers can live in. So they actually made the intention of getting them housing and stuff too, and I did not realize that wasn't part of the history of that they're just like oh that's interesting. A: But anyways you know…like the biggest connection that I always saw like between like the way my parents grew up in the way that I grew up with this…that education piece was always huge because they would always tell me it's like you have to go out get education, so you don't end up working like in a similar like place like we are you know we're working all these long hours. A: So and that's generally like the way it works…like Tyson is the boogeyman of the town like if you don't study, if you don't like any education, then like you're gonna end up working there. A: And that's how it is for everybody, like you know, because the major employers of the area are like Tyson, the school district, or the hospital. A: And so like one thing that I tell everybody also about Garden City is that, like a lot of us don't realize how like I guess like rough, the situation is because we're all pretty homogeneously broke…like where the same income bracket and…we're all generally like majority Latino, majority working at Tyson so it's like in a way it's like it's pretty homogenous in that sense. A: But, as I was saying…yeah like the education piece is pretty important to them early on, and so you know I always tell like my parents like are you I’m gonna go. I’m gonna go to university. I'm going to university and they're like yeah and you know, like finish high school for us, you know it's one step at a time that sort of thing too. A: And so…I got lucky in the sense, like, I found like a good group of friends that were all we all kind of wanted to go to university and we all kind of decided that, like we were going to…we were going to study we actually wanted to go out of state, preferably. A: And it was interesting because, like the our school was pretty open about like that they were not preparing us for college and at one point of our like our freshman year actually. A: And like there was, like several instances of is like…freshman year the principal like you know assault freshmen are just sitting and, like in this big gymnasium…Garden City High School was like 2000 students and so like the freshman class was pretty big I don't like maybe like 500 or something. A: And so there's this all of us sitting there and, like the the principal like says “Okay, all of you stand up like this half sit down to have to just sit down like half of you are not going to make it to graduation. A: And so, like that was the way, like we were introduced to it like looking back at it like now I'm just like you know why the hell, would you do that, but like at the time I was just like okay like you know, like in and then. A: There were other instances later on to such as like we had asked one of our principals in like How are we supposed to get ready for college when all you're doing is like classwork is just like state tests and getting us ready for that and he's like well we're not getting ready for college we're not getting you ready for college we're getting you ready for the state test, and that was another thing or just kind of like okay well like that's that's you know that's that's bad for a lot of reasons. A: And then amplifying the situation just making it worse, is also that Garden City is also pretty isolated. A: So we don't have the benefit of having like a universities around us, or we can actually like go to them, and you know, like visit them and stuff too, like any trip we make to university. A: Does that take us a few hours out so like we're flipping Western Kansas it's like minimum like three to go to like Wichita State or something…so it's definitely a few hours out but that education piece like I said was important. A: So like I ended up going to KU you obviously and while I was there that's when I really begin to notice that, like well you know a lot of people actually don't look like me; a lot of people are actually have like a lot more money, like there was a particular class project where I made a survey and ask some of our classmates you know, like what is it that your parents do like how much do we, you know household income things like that, too. A: I was like actually pretty surprised to see how many like people were like the the six digits and you know triple whatever and how many people like parents are doctors or lawyers everything else too. A: So, so all that to say is like I guess like that that's been like a major theme throughout my life, at least in something that when I graduated like it's not going to be lost on me where it's just like all right, like this [my education] is important because, like I think about it, like my great grandfather only finished, like the third grade and then my grandpa like the sixth grade and then like…well, actually, not an accident think my great grandfather will just go and I think about it, but like my grandpa finished, like the third grade; my dad like the sixth grade, and then you know my finished, like the the 10th grade or whatever. A: And for me that's like that's something that's always stays in the back of my mind like how big of an impact that is just because it's almost like honestly, like the diploma…I just better it's a piece of paper to me; I didn't even picked up my undergraduate diploma yet like it's still sitting there like okay you. I haven't picked it up yet, but I do intend to pick them both up and just kind of give them to my parents almost because I know it's more important to them than it is to me. A: And I see this like being connected back to this, the idea of like generational trauma right because I feel like they weren't able to do like a lot of their education. And complete a lot of it, because they were like…lived in poverty and like they had to go work in the fields and everything else too… and then for me to all of a sudden, have access to this level of education and to be able to complete it…isn't necessarily like I think by itself meaningful, but like when when you add it to that context I think it's very important and that's something that's kind of a lesson that stuck with me. A: And just in terms of trying to think of like…what else in particular here. But I don't know it's hard because, like a lot of like when I think about like retelling of stories and how I learned about different things it's all it all came very…it's all like orally told, and so I think about this like maybe not even just like stories of itself, but like I also think about like medical records and medical pasts and…and things like that, too, because there was a while, where like I didn't know our family’s medical history because that's just something that didn't exist because they didn't have any formal records or anything like that. A: And so it was a…when I started going through my mental health issues and then my dad told me he's like hey like your grandma actually has like goes through like epileptic episodes I'm like I didn't know that like when this when is this like I feel like. A: I mean, especially when doctors tell me like…is it asked me like you know, is there, like a history of xyz thing and your family like whatever. Unless it's like super obvious I just kind of go I don't know like I honestly don't know, like all these things are just kind of they just come out at random moments. A: And then the thing that I found interesting about that too is that there's a you know, like the stigma with everything about like mental health and the stigma associated with like other medications and everything else too and it's just like it's just it that's like an interesting dynamic of like what is shared and what isn't shared. A: So I think for me like that's been the biggest thing is that, like there's so many unknowns about like my past. A: And about like I know like I’ve heard these stories and, like some of these stories are like I know they're like incomplete and that's why like I also did like back pedaling a little bit, but that's also why I decided to do like my undergraduate or like my minor in Latin American studies to because I felt like that was an opportunity for me to learn more about like my stories like indirectly. A: That helps um I mean, I was able to learn certain things and I was able to like when my parents spoke about certain things be able to articulate relate to it more and be like okay yeah cuz I kind of like learned from it, you know or study this and looked into that. A: So I think yeah that's…I think that some of that’s… Is there any clarifying questions you may have anything? Marta Caminero (M): Yeah…So..Here's just an actual clarifying question: So when your dad was going with your granddad to Chicago was it the kind of circular migration, where they were coming back seasonally? Or yearly?. A: It was just yeah…they would make…they would go up and they would actually would make money come back down and obviously was all to help the family and such to but because I remember my dad talking about specifically how they were periods in time, which my grandpa would leave and, like my grandma would stay there, and they would come back in and just go through that process until they're old enough to go out there. M: And, can you tell me a little bit about what it was like growing up in Garden City? I mean you said that you didn't really realize that not everyone looked the way you did until you got to KU…so What was it like growing up in a community where you weren't identifiably I were there were lots of Latinas and what was it like growing up in a school that was poor? I mean you told me a little, but… A: Right, I mean I…I actually enjoyed it, I mean like I think that, like I didn't really realize like how because it mean I didn't realize how…how good I had it until I left so like you know, like now I’m looking back at the experience it was actually I enjoyed a lot because, like a it was almost like a full of em like…your whole identity was included as opposed to. A: Like because you know you go to you would go to Walmart and they'd be like not just one aisle on Latino things but it'd be ubiquitous…ubiquitously spread everywhere and then like we'd go to McDonald's and then my mom could order in Spanish, as opposed to like having to talk broken English whatever you know, like so you can you can do everything in Spanish, and just live like a normal life there like like you know quote unquote normal. A: And it was…it was interesting to me, also because I feel like I don't know like I just didn't know that like…like how different everything else was because there was a certain faction of people who were more affluent so they were you know they were like just statistically speaking, they were more white as well, and they have like their own little community outside of the city. A: It's called Southwind and that's where like a lot of like the rich people go that's where they live and then you know they have like more nicer houses and building like outside the city stuff too so it's it was it's like a microcosm of what's happening like elsewhere. A: And so I thought that was particularly interesting and, like you, didn't you didn't notice all these things because you're in the middle of it and, like you know, like all your friends are like look like you have the same income everything else too. [speaking over each other] M: But…did you code switch or what was..what was it like, with your friends? A: Um it wasn't…we so…we spoke majority of the time we spoke English, most of us understood Spanish, though, but like whenever you go to someone's house you know, like you have to saludar and say buenas tardes and everything else too. A: It's..it is code switching but there's also like a component of that that's like more… it's a little deeper than being just like Mexican…so like, for example, because, like a lot of people came from like poor rural backgrounds like there is certain behavioral expectations that they have so you have to be like more…I guess more conservative more like, “how do you do” more like “please, and thank you” kind of thing, as opposed to like more which I feel like more like urban Mexican where it's like a different culture almost. A: So everyone had…like a similar background of like coming from like more…whose parents came from more rural urban or like rather rural more poor and so like there was like an expectation of a behavior almost. A: For example, my parents whenever someone my friends wouldn't they wouldn't say hi my parents would be like “has andado con un niño que no saluda”...you know you're with a kid that doesn't say hi? A: So there's always an expectation of like we have to say “hi” like get to be courteous like manners…manners is super super important and so like there is there's a little bit of like I guess like almost switching in that sense. A: And then the other thing too is like it's interesting also to like because they had like major celebrations there too…so, like the Mexican Independence Day was huge; they'd have a parade and have people there, you know the stuff in the park afterwards huge events. A: And it was kind of funny for me to see the…other part of this, too, was seeing how…instead of like it was almost like…we had to accommodate… A: cuz let me give an example, so, for example, like when I went to there's a place, you can eat it's called Mariscos Puerto Nuevo…and I was like seafood and stuff too… it's a pretty popular spot, and so one thing one thing that I saw one time that was pretty interesting was…You know, I was sitting there with friends, we were eating that's like the local place to eat like we're pretty open pretty late at night. A: And then, so this white person comes in, and they they're the ones that are struggling to order you know food they're the ones that are struggling to say what they want, like the other point stuff on the menu and stuff like that, too, and then my head, I was like wow, this is an interesting thing that probably doesn't happen, a lot of places. A: Where it's like English people that people know…English other ones struggling and other ones that come in, have been here and like…and they're the ones that sound like you know they're using the broken language or whatever to and so it's it's a reversal of roles that like you don't really seen a lot of different places. A: And I didn't really fully appreciate that and looking back, I was like wow this is pretty unique to the area, and you know you don't you don't realize that until it's like okay like now, all of these things are are starting to make sense, once you go away and come back. M: Have you been back recently? Is it still that way? And I'm wondering, are there really Cubans there, and like what would influx of other Latinx people from different countries? A: I know I don't know if there was actually a wave of Cuban people coming into [Garden City]. My dad was just saying things because sometimes they [my parents] just say things I don't know like because.... A: I know that there was a wave of Somali immigrants; I know for sure that Laos and Vietnamese…I don't know if actually there was a wave of Cuban immigrants. M: Latin Americans? A: Yes, there are other Latin Americans, but like…it's I feel like they almost get consumed by like the dominant culture, the Mexican culture so it's hard to like find different subsets because everyone just assumes that you're Mexican and everyone just kind of like it's a very like…it's like Mexican is a dominant culture and so like that's the one that's kind of like it eats all the other ones, and so that's how I kind of feel about ‘em. A: And then, and then the other thing I will say is that…one of the…the not so fun parts about like this is that, like in when you have a different wave of like…[END]. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Alex Subject The topic of the resource An oral history from Durango, Mexico to Garden City. Description An account of the resource Alex grew up in Garden City, Kansas and his parents are from Mexico. In this interview, Alex talks about the importance of education, family, and community. He also talks about feeling out of place at times during his time at the University of Kansas. Towards the end of this interview, he talks about wanting to know more about his family history. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <iframe width="400" height="285" id="kmsembed-1_h8f8x6yt" src="https://mediahub.ku.edu/embed/secure/iframe/entryId/1_h8f8x6yt/uiConfId/45147491/st/0" class="kmsembed" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" allow="autoplay *; fullscreen *; encrypted-media *" referrerpolicy="no-referrer-when-downgrade" sandbox="allow-downloads allow-forms allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation allow-pointer-lock allow-popups allow-modals allow-orientation-lock allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-presentation allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" frameborder="0" title="Heartland_Alex_Trimmed"></iframe> Community Education Garden City Identity Mexico Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview Marta Caminero-Santangelo Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed Sandra Language of Interview English City (Region, State) and Country of Origin for 2nd and 3rd generation, this is the place of family's origin Puerto Rico and Haiti Current City of Residence Where in Kansas or Missouri the Interviewee currently lives Lawrence, Kansas Intermediate point in journey (1) City/State or Country to which interviewee (or parents/grandparents) traveled before coming to current point of residence Queens, New York City, New York Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Sandra Subject The topic of the resource Oral history from Puerto Rico and Haiti to Lawrence, Kansas. Description An account of the resource Sandra’s mother is from Puerto Rico and her father is from Haiti. Sandra came to Lawrence, Kansas for her PhD in English Literature. In this interview, she talks about the importance of education, food, and her parents’ experiences in the U.S. Later, Sandra also shares several personal experiences with the U.S. education system and her Caribbean background. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <iframe width="400" height="285" id="kmsembed-1_q0t6grma" src="https://mediahub.ku.edu/embed/secure/iframe/entryId/1_q0t6grma/uiConfId/45147491/st/0" class="kmsembed" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" allow="autoplay *; fullscreen *; encrypted-media *" referrerpolicy="no-referrer-when-downgrade" sandbox="allow-downloads allow-forms allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation allow-pointer-lock allow-popups allow-modals allow-orientation-lock allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-presentation allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" frameborder="0" title="Heartland Sandra"></iframe> Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Lawrence, Kansas Community Culture Differences Haiti Identity Puerto Rico Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview Marta Caminero-Santangelo Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed Teresa Current City of Residence Where in Kansas or Missouri the Interviewee currently lives Kansas City, Kansas Intermediate point in journey (1) City/State or Country to which interviewee (or parents/grandparents) traveled before coming to current point of residence Michoacán, Mexico Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound Teresa (T) Marta (M) T: My name is Teresa Pacheco. My maiden name is Teresa Valverde. My grandparents on my maternal side, on my mom's side were Agustín and Felicita Zamora. And they came in from Tangancicuaro, Michoacán, Mexico back in the 19, I think in the 1920s. T: My grandfather went from Mexico because, you know, back then there was really no borders. I mean, you could cross over. We didn't have any of these borders until after what, 1925– M: Right. Yeah. Yeah. T: So he came and he was actually a sheep herder. He took a job as a sheep herder up in North Dakota, and from there someone told him that, told him that there was possibilities in the Kansas–state of Kansas, and primarily Kansas City, Kansas, because of the Santa Fe Railroad was going to be hiring a lot of people. So, my grandfather, then he came from North Dakota. He realized there probably was an opportunity. T: And then when he came then, I guess he knew my grandmother before. But there was a ten year difference, you know, back then, you know, my grandfather was 23 and my grandmother was 13 when they got married. Could you believe? M: Oh, oh my gosh. Wow. T: Yes. But grandpa always said, oh, but if you see, if you see your grandmother, she sure didn't look like those 13. [laughs] So nobody ever guessed she was only 13, but she was– M:--And where did he meet her? T: Well, actually their families knew each other in to both her family and my grandpa's family. They knew each other living there in Tangancicuaro. So the families already knew each other. But I don't think my grandfather and my grandmother, because there was that age difference, that they really knew each other that that well. But and then in time, I guess when he went to North Dakota and it was so easy, he was going actually back and forth and back and forth. So I guess he finally did meet my grandmother and it just started there– M: Okay. Wait, wait. Let me ask for clarification. Did he meet your grandmother in Mexico? T: Well, he actually got to know her better in Mexico, yes. M: Okay. T: They were from the same little town. M: Okay. T: Because of the families knowing each other. M: Okay. And then did they marry in Michoacán? And then they got married there? T: Uh huh. M: Okay. Okay. T: And then and that time when they got married, that's when he ended up coming to Kansas City. Kansas, both of them. M: So he was going back and forth from the US. To Mexico? T: Yes. Okay. But he stayed a lot. Like I said, he went up to North Dakota like a little sheep herder, you know, a little job. Somebody told him about going up there, which he did. But of course he didn't stay because when they told him there's a better opportunity working for the Santa Fe Railroad, which he ended up doing and working there for God, I bet you was a good 60 years. I think that's what my mom said. It was a good 60 years he worked for Santa Fe. M: Okay. T: Because he was still working. Well, think about it. He was still working for Santa Fe when I was little. And you figure I'm 67, so go figure. Yeah. So he must have worked for Santa Fe for about 60 years. M: Okay. And then did he when he came to work in Kansas for the Santa Fe Railroad, where in Kansas did he land? T: Yes. Oh, where? Where in Argentine? M: In Argentine. Okay. T: In Argentine. Uh huh. Because at that time that's where Santa Fe had a lot of work going on. M: Okay. Great. T:Yeah, they're in Argentine and Kansas City, Kansas. T: Okay. And then he had they had five children. And those five children were Ignacio, which my uncle his oldest son, Ignacio Zamora. And then it was my mom, Raquel Zamora. Then it was my uncle no, my aunt, Socorro Zamora, and then my uncle Santiago Zamora. There was actually five, but I can't remember ‘cause one of them died… M: I think it's so impressive that you remember four. [both laughing] T: Well, but you know, because we were close because my uncle, to make a long story, my uncle that I just told you, Ignacio Zamora. Actually, I consider him almost like my dad because my parents got divorced when I was little. So my uncle, and we called him Nick, that was actually my uncle Nick was actually the one that raised us. So that's why I know all my–their kids so well because we were always together. T: And I've done a lot in the community because there with El Centro. I was on the board of El Centro for over 30 years. M: Oh, wow, That's amazing. T: Yeah. Actually, when I became a board member of El Centro they put me on the board for the use of the community so you could here I am 67 years old, and then myself out on the board and I was the chairperson for El Centro. T: But I've always wanted to do things for my community ’cause I saw my grandparents and my grandmother, Felicita. Just a wonderful she was your regular normal because the grandpa being so involved in so many things and working at Santa Fe and things like that, but grandma was one of those wonderful homemakers that I learned a lot from. T: And then of course, my mother learned a lot from her. They gave me all those principles and I think that as a migr– As a granddaughter of somebody came to this country from another country, what I appreciated is to learn all about the culture, how to do our holidays. Because that's being lost. Today, you can't find any of these youth–the recipes are gone. That you wish that somebody knew how to do certain dishes. And they're not going to learn because they're not teaching them. They're barely raising themselves, let alone trying to raise children, you know? T: I have to say that's what I value because I value that they spoke to us in both languages. We always learned to be able to speak both English and Spanish. They always say you're in this country, you're going to speak English, but your ethnic background, you’re Mexicana. T: I say we're a hybrid because on my maternal grandparents, Augustine, they came from Spain, and they came from France, and they came, it's a mixture. Then on my dad's side, I'm Sicilian and Spanish from Puebla [Mexico] mixture of everything. And then now I married my husband, and I'll get to that too. There's just a whole mixture of a high 57, but you got to appreciate all these cultures. T: Everyone is different. T: The routines of life and how you see things are different. I think that's being lost in today's world. I think these kids, they could care less about their Mexican culture unless you put them and you talk to them about it. Even from the dances, to the songs, to the foods you name it. Some of them, they just don't know anything about it. If you mention it to them, food maybe a little bit because they'll eat it. But you ask anybody if they know how to make it and they're not going to tell you, they will: “Oh, no. We don't know how to do that.” T: But as a child of immigrants, that's what I appreciated that they taught us, so then we were able to teach it like I've been teaching my two boys. M: So your boys do know a little bit more? T: Oh, yeah. And then I married, okay. I married my husband, Carlos Pacheco. He's originally from Mexico City. And he's a story and a half too, because I'm so proud of him. Because when he came and I met him on vacation with my cousin Bea, who you interviewed, cousin Bea Ramirez. T: She invited me to go to Mexico with her because a friend of hers couldn't go. So you know how back in the day that you could use airline tickets from other people? M: Yeah, I missed those days. I missed some days. T: Bea said: “Come on Teresa, you got to go with me.” When are you going? In two weeks. I said in two weeks I'm going to have to get permission to see if I can even leave my boss. I just presented it to him and said, yeah, go ahead, you just go ahead and have a good time if you get everything done, you go ahead and you go with her. So I said, okay. And that happens to be where we stayed at, her aunt and uncle's house. Happens to be her side of the family, but then they have somebody because, see, I'm cousin to her dad and my husband is cousin to her mom. M: Oh wow. T: How that worked out… M: Can I actually backtrack for just a second? Can you tell me a little bit about what it was like to grow up in Argentine? Was it all Latino? Hispanic? Were there a lot of Latinos? Hispanics there? T: Oh, yes, there was a Latinos/Hispanics right there in Argentine. Right there. Yeah, That was more Mexicanos like when I started. They say back in the earlier time, there was more of another mixture. That many, there were some blacks. There wasn't much, many blacks. But there was always white. But there was a grand majority was from Mexico primarily, believe it or not, was from this little town, Tangancicuaro, Michocán, where my grandparents were from. T: Since the railroad brought so many people in, well, you know how it is. Somebody says, come on, go apply for this, You might get it all ended up being almost from the same areas from me. M: So they all knew each other? T: Oh yeah. Back in the day, everybody knew each other. You almost have to watch who's related to who. Wow, You really didn't know. Because back in the days when I was growing up, everybody, everybody went to church there. John the Divine. T: We've always had St. John the Evangelist. It's a Catholic church there too, There on strong. But that was where all the whites would go. When I was little, that's where all the whites would go and all the Mexicanos would go to St. John the Divine. Then when they close John the Divine, well, guess what then, all the means had to go somewhere to church. So then we start going to St. John the Evangelists. A lot of them, I don't think they were that appreciative. We're going to have to go to mass now. There too, but hey, they closed down the church, so where else are we going to go? M: And when was that? T: When they closed it…Oh my gosh. And you know there was an article. There was an article in the paper when the church burned and they had to end up tearing it down. Here's a big call It give you some dates. I don't know if you could look. I can't possibly find it. Yeah, It's under the St. John the Divine. And they gave all the little history of the church too, you know, like when it opened. T: And that's when my grandfather was really involved when he was young with St. John the Divine like putting together all the sit like I say, like I said, he was the first was an orchestra. He played all kinds of music. And then we started getting other little bands. And other little bands were formed from the people that played in his band and they formed other little things. M: Well, I found a picture. T: Of the church? M: Yeah. Beautiful archive picture. T: Yeah. Well, actually my cousin Bea’s there, her house was right next to St. John the Divine. Yeah. They just tore that down. I'm thinking it was last year, was in 19 2019. I just can't remember when. M: Yeah and it was on the National Register of Historic Places. T: Yes, it was. And you have to read the controversy on that because everybody wanted to keep it with the most beautiful church they had the most inside, all the stuff, a lot of the chandeliers and stuff was brought in from Spain. They put it together with this beautiful tile, and now they and put it down at St. John the Evangelist. There's like a little history of what they ended up doing and all the santos they ended up selling it to, I think, other churches. And it was a shame and it was on the registry. But guess what happened? M: What? T: Everybody that wanted to save it, they really didn't work that hard. Because trying to save and make the church where it would be vile not to get donations to have it renovated, to fix it up, because it was falling apart when that fire hit, well, most of it came down on the back side. Oh my gosh. That, that poor building came down. So they had to end up tearing the rest of it because it really took a toll when they had that fire there. T: They say somebody set it [the fire], but I don't know if that's what ever has come out. But Yeah, If you look at the little history, will tell you a lot and probably tell you when it started. The church close? M: Yeah. What was it like? Were the schools segregated like that too? T: Oh, yes, my mom told me when she lived in Argentine yes. They did not let the Mexicanos go to school. There was the elementary school there. They couldn't go to those schools or Stanley Franklin, they were all schools there within the Argentine area. T: The Mexicanos–she had to go and you could look that history up. It's very interesting too to read the Clara's C L A R A Barton B A R T O N. Society still exists today. And that was the name of the school and that's where all the Mexicanos. I think it was left on 24th Street now where the, you know where that school was? The Walmart. There's a Walmart and Argentine and there's the new Walmart. All right in there. That's 24 Street that you come down and there's even a little soccer field there Now, all that area would have been where the grade school was for the Mehicanos to go to. Oh, it was segregated. M: So you basically grew up with just surrounded by Mexican kids? T: My mama did. I didn't. M: Okay. So what happened with you in school? T: Okay. With me, yes. We were able to go to Be then Emerson School was opened. Me and my brothers, we grew up. We went to Emerson School, and there's a lot of Mexicanos. John the Divine had a school, but my mom put us at Emerson. I don't know if it was money because then you have to pay for Catholic schools. Probably mostly they couldn't afford. My mom couldn't afford to send us. T: We went to the public school, Emerson. And the only time we would go to St. John the Divine was on Wednesdays for catechism and to learn the religion, because we didn't have it at the public schools. Every Wednesday we go for an hour and they would teach us different things. But that's when I was growing up. T: But when I was growing up in Argentine, then it became everybody was involved. And I have to say I got along, I said because there wasn't that many Mexicanos going to Emerson because a lot of them mostly went to St. John the Divine Catholic School. But like I say, I don't know but me and my brothers and there wasn't that many. We got along. T: Do you know? To this day, I still have my girlfriends and I have to say there's only one Mexicana and the rest are white. We get together every quarter. We haven't because of Covid. I've had friends. We've been getting together since we were in kindergarten. Can you believe? M: I mean, that's amazing. Yeah, that's amazing. T: There's what, 15 of us to keep together that close. Yeah. T: Do you know when you're little? I've always said this, don't they're not born to discriminate. They're not born to see people differently. People start talking to them and they start, but heck, we all got along. T: I have to say I had a wonderful upbringing and, you know, it was a bet to think I still have these friends from kindergarten. What does that say? That we all truly loved each other. You know, we didn't see our differences or anything. So I have to say I had a wonderful upbringing. T: I've always been wanted to do and my mom. She always told us you got to help your community Because when she got divorced, in my dad, of course, like I said, my uncle Nick raised us, she said “The community can give you a lot, but you got to help your community and help them get whatever they need.” T: Like I said, I was on the board of El Centro, become chair. I was on the board of the United Way chairperson. I was the chairperson for the American Red Cross, the Children's Museum of Kansas City. Anything that I wanted to on a board, I give it 100% not some of these people that just want their name on the board and they don't do anything for it. T: I really went after organizations, then they asked me to that, then they would ask me if I'd be interested to be on the board. But I've always been involved the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce. I was with the founders of the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce. T: And then the National Office of the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce grew from Kansas City, and then now they're in Washington DC. I was involved with all that too. [phone rings] T: Let me check if this is Sure. That's another scams. M: I know they're calling me. I hate them. T: I do too. T: My brother Tom, like I said, he's just been just as involved too. You need to speak to him because he'll tell you all the organizations he's been involved with. I would love to speak to him. We have our younger brother, Ray, who now lives in Fort Walton Beach, Florida. He's been down there for maybe six years now. T: But he grew up in, he grew up in Argentine and went to high school after high school. Then of course, the he's always lived in Kansas City, but just recently now living in Fort Walton. Then he was also involved with the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce. T: So we've all seen things that needed to be done here in Kansas City and try to get the best done for the city and our community. T: Now though I'm retired, I'm retired and taking it easy. And people want me to join the board again, I tell them: “You need to get some of this new blood so they can learn to what it is to be a good citizen” you know? That nothing is really given to you. You got to help your community and whatever it takes. Yeah. M: Can you tell me how old your sons are now and where are they now? T: Let me tell you. Of course. And my husband, he just retired, Carlos Pacheco and he was a firefighter. And he ended up being captain. He just retired. April the first. M: Wow, congratulations to him. T: Him, you know what? So when I met him like I was telling you the story, I met him when my cousin B, and then we came just were writing and calling each other and then we ended up getting married. We just celebrated 36, but he did not know one word of English. M: Wow. Really? T: Oh, Marta. He could talk to him to tell you. And I told him, I says, the only way you're going to learn English is by me just speaking to you in English. I never spoke to him in Spanish. Could you believe When we were married at the beginning. M: Wow. He had just come from Mexico City. He was himself? T: And yes, my husband, Carlos. Yes, he sure is from Mexico City, but you want to hear a better one? His grandparents were from Tangancicuaro, Mexico. M: Oh my gosh. That's hilarious. M: Okay. Can you spell this little town for me? What's the town, what is the town? T: It's T A, N, G A N C, U R O Oh, it's a beautiful little town to think. We then Carlos and I got married and we had our two boys, which I'm so proud of. My first one, he's 33, he's born in, we got married in 85, Carlos, he's Carlos Pacheco the third. He was born in 1987. M: Wow. T: And we're proud parents of a Dr. He's a medical Dr. and he went to KU. As a matter of fact, KU Medical School. And he's in his residency. He's going to actually I think next month. I think next month he ends his residency and he'll start at the Hartland Clinic out there in paper. In where? In ten. M: But where is the Heartland Clinic? T: Heartland Clinics where he's going to be the Dr. at, and they're located about 110, I think it's on Hutton Road, actually in Kansas City, Kansas. He wanted to do family medicine, so then he could help people. And he's been telling people he's bilingual. So everybody saying, oh, he's going to be an asset for the community. T: Actually, his residency, he's at the Lakewood Hospital in Lee Summit, at least as part of the Truman Medical. That's where he's mainly at, but he's gone to Truman Homes, the main hospital, and then he's gone to Children's Mercy Rotation. M: Uh huh. Children's Mercy’s great. T: Oh, they're wonderful. Wonderful. M: Do you think your son Carlos would be willing to be interviewed? Oh, I think he would. Yes. I think he would. I could get the whole family and that would be really nice. T: Then what can I say about him? He's our youngest and he was born in 93. So what is he? 28. So, he's 28 today. As a matter of fact that we're talking today was his first day. He's now the Marketing Director for Bishop Ward High School in Kansas City. Wow. That's where both Carlos and Alejandro went to school, high school. They've been to Catholic schools all the way up until they started at St.Patrick's. Then they went to Bishop Ward. Then both of them went to Benedictine College in Atchison. Wonderful football players. I can tell you that time I had a lot of fun watching them play football. T: Alejandro also has his own little company, He does real estate he'll be able to do to do both jobs. T: You know what I'm so proud of them, my husband and I have always been still amended. Whatever you put in, hijos, make sure you love what you're doing. T: And that's what actually happened to my son Carlos because he is the most wonderful writer. His teachers that high school used to say, God, you got to send him to the sports page because he had that way of writing. And then he went into communications. Writing, right? And then all of a sudden, when he graduated from Benedictine, came to really, I feel like I'm being called for the medical side. T: Well, guess what? He had to he didn't take all the science classes that he needed in high school and college that he needed to take. So he lasted two years poor Carlos has been in school since well, you think about it. He's 33. He hasn't never stopped going to school. M: Yeah, that actually happened to a friend of mine from college too. She majored in Latin American studies. And then like second semester of her senior year, she decided that she wanted to be a Doctor she had to go back and take all the science classes. T: All the science classes. I know they got to do all that before they get into school. T: And then thank goodness and oh, we were so proud of him when KU says you're in Oh, I tell you what. Oh, it just made us so proud that he went to KU medical school. M: You know, it's wonderful to hear it in your voice. It just shows in your voice. T: It's just because I'm so proud of. Yeah. And then got his masters at Benedictine. They've both been both just wonderful little go-getters that's always being in to help you know they're always… T: But see children learn from you what you instill in them if you don't teach them different things and all these dishes. And I tell them about their grandparents and my husband's side of the family on his side have wondered like his grandmother there again. Well, at that time it was Michoacán, también. Well at that time she was in Mexico City. She had her own little candy. She had a candy shop and made all the different types of candy that has. He's learned. It's very interesting. I'm so proud of my family, both me and my husband's side, because there's so much that somebody God, we can listen to you guys all day long. M: It's a wonderful story. It's really great to hear. T: It's been just it's a wonderful life. I'm happy. M: Can you tell me, is there anything that you would like your sons to know about your experience growing up in Argentine that maybe they don't know or that you'd like to make sure they know? T: Do you know what they know? I have to say I always talked to them about how I grew up and my brothers, we've taught them a lot of stuff. You know, hijos, I have such an interesting background both on both sides of the family to know, you got to know all this stuff. Oh, you tell us from young we used to talk to and they know the customs and they know the food. And like for Easter, I made this dish called capitrotada. Thaa, I don't know if you've ever heard of that, but Capito, it's a Mexican bread pudding that's made with French bread. Actually, French bread, and you make this syrup. M: Oh my God, that sounds delicious. I want it; it sounds delicious. I love bread pudding. To start with, Mexican bread pudding. I can't imagine anything better. T: And it has almonds and raisins. Oh, it is delicious. So see those kind of dishes. But you know what, if you tell some of these younger prisons they would know about capirotada people if they don't learn how to make it, then they don't tell their own kids. It's a triple effect. They don't know about all these little things. Says everybody just knows one tamal. Well no, there's all kinds, they all have different kinds of names, different types of names. But they [Teresa’s sons] know ‘em. T: I got to think of that there's something because I even told them about their great grandparents. My well, that would be their grandparents. Great grandparents. That would be they know about my grandfather and she heard coming down and marrying grandma at 13. “How can that happen, Mom? She was only a little girl.” I said, “Well, I know, hijos, but back in the day, the family sometimes used to set them up and.. M: It was a different time. T: We used to always say to our kids, my husband, you do good things in life. Good things will happen. You do bad things, bad things will happen. They always had that in their heads. I said, you know, hijos, when you go out in life, you're reflections of me and dad. Just think of what you're going to be doing. That. Reflection and my little young one, Alejandro, says “But mom, we couldn't ever do anything like that to you. Because you've always treated us so good, so much. Love.” It broke my heart with someone that little is telling you things like that and just here is 28 years old. T: Yeah. I just remember those good stories. You know? M: This is so wonderful. This is a great story. And I love your obvious commitment to trying to pass down as much as possible to the younger generation. And that's what our project is trying to do, to just… T: Yes! That's why I was so interested because I said that's what these kids need. Yeah. They need people to tell about all the different things and how people really went through a lot. And then they say, oh, when you hear a lot of people saying well, why don't they come in through the border like we did. And I said, listen, when did your great grandparents come in or your great grandparents come in? They didn't have any borders. Then they could cross in and come in. Now, yes, there is a law and there's laws and we have to follow that. T: But what makes me upset when they said, well, they came in legally. I said no, they just came in because they were allowed to be laws back then. T: Oh, and then they just and I says and if you don't believe me, look it up on the history book, You'll I tell them. M: There were no quantitative quotas. There were no numerical quotas for coming in. That was for Mexicans anyway. For Chinese people there were. T: Oh, yes. Back then. Yeah. But yeah, my aspect of when they were talking about Mexico. Yeah. Uh huh. And then when I say look in your history book, half of the United States was Mexico too and they just…they sold it for nothing. T: So, you know when you say, well, I bet you I forget when I was little. I can tell you this story. I forget somebody mentioned to me: “Well, I bet you bet. That was I bet Mexico doesn't have this or something like that or how beautiful” we're talking about geographies. And I said what I said. What do you mean? Have you gone to California? Have you gone to Texas? Have you gone to Arizona? I would go go go and say I said, well guess what? That used to be Mexico. What? I said “Yes, you read it? Yes. Meico. A lot of stuff, you know? M: That's true. T: And a lot of just like I'm sure you feel it too even from Cuba. They say, well, do they do this or do that? They think they're sometimes the only ones that know anything or have experienced anything of beauty or culture. T: Think about, I'm thinking of you right now, Cuba in the 1940s. Look back then when people were going to Cuba for the music and everything that was going on. Wow. And then of course the Mafia got in there with the gambling and all that. M: But yes, also true. T: Yeah. But people, the younger people, that's what makes me mad with our education that they stopped teaching kids certain things. Well, I know they need to keep it up because these things are coming up, you know. If they have no knowledge of what went on, yeah, They're completely naive. M: I would love to take my kids to Cuba. T: Oh, I bet you would. M: I would I still can't legally take them to Cuba because you still can't really be a tourist in Cuba. And we don't have any family left there. So it couldn't be a family visit. T: Yeah. Okay. When it was opened, when Obama opened it, was it We could visit, right, everybody? M: That's the thing. You still can't legally visit. It's actually, it's part of the economic embargo. You can't spend money there. So de facto, you can't visit. So you could go on an educational program, or you could go on a humanitarian program, or you could go like, for a family visit if you have immediate family. But you can't just visit as a tourist still. T: Oh wow. Yeah. Oh my. M: So I have been a couple times but it's been as part of educational trips. T: But like you say, you wish you had your kids be able to see all that. M: I do. They don't even know that they're Cuban. They don't speak any Spanish. They don't consider themselves Hispanic. They don't consider themselves Cuban. And I'm 100% Cuban. T: But hey, that's what happens. That's what happens, and that's the thing that happens and that's what we just got instilling the I bet you–Now, let me ask you, did you ever teach them about their foods? M: I do. I have made Cuban food for them. Yes. Yeah. T: But some don't even know that. That's a simple. I would think that to me that simple. I know, but my mom, though, told me that. My grandfather told her. He says, you're in the United States and I want you to speak English and we're going to speak Spanish in the home, but when you go out, English is going to be your first language because you're in this country. T: I remember my mom telling me that that's how we were raised. Thank goodness we my grandparents were still living because my mom always spoke to us in English. But every time we went to Grand Grandpa's house or my tíos or whatever, we always spoke Spanish. So I was always I think that's what needed to. But sometimes unfortunately, those things don't happen because if you're not close to the elders well, that's what happens. I have to say we were awfully were lucky they spoke both languages. Yeah. M: What happened with me is that my parents would speak to us in Spanish and then we would respond in English.So we understand everything, but our Spanish sucks. T: Yeah. That because my son, Alejandro, he understands everything. Now when we go to Mexico, he's dealing with cousins or whatever. Somehow he'll make it through. Yeah. But my son Carlos now the doctor, he understands he's able to handle a conversation in Spanish. So that's why I say he's going to be such a good asset here for a lot of people, they said, oh, and he has such a wonderful personality. The doctors have told me his–well, they made him the chief resident, the hospital, so all the residents go to him for like he's at. M: Wow, that's amazing. Yeah. T: Don't you think I'm proud? M: I can hear it in your voice. You're a glowing, proud mom. T: And then I said I just wondered when I'm going to have me. And my husband says, well, Carlos got married, they got married in 2019 and said, well, and he's still in residency when he starts getting a little bit better, but then they were married at 19 and then I have my beautiful little Vivian. Oh, she's just a and now guess what they call them, the Irish twin. Because Jenny's having a baby in the same month. M: Wow. T: She was born July the third, and this new baby's going to be born July 13. Great. M: Teresa, thank you so much for agreeing to talk to me. I appreciate it more than I can possibly say. T: Well, I wish I would have gotten her. I know my cousin Bea said, well, she hasn't contact, says, oh, she will. So, I was just waiting. And then when you send me the second text ah, I said I never got the first one– M: That's really weird. And a bummer? Yeah. Yeah. No, I had been and you know, I was ready to give up. I was just going through old emails, but I well, I'll try one last time. It can't hurt. T: I'm glad you did. M: I'm glad I did too. It's meant to happen that way. Yeah. Yeah. It was. Fate. Okay, thank you so much that Teresa, have a really great day and a great week. And I will send you this email and then you'll know where to send stuff back. T: I'll follow up with this stuff, tell you everybody's got phone numbers and stuff. M: Great. Thank you so much. T: Okay, thank you. Bye bye. M: Bye. Bye. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Teresa Subject The topic of the resource Oral history from Mexico to Kansas City, KS Description An account of the resource Teresa’s grandparents migrated to the U.S. sometime in the 1920s from Michoacán, Mexico Her grandfather first worked for the Santa Fe Railroad and organized several community events such as fiestas and an orchestra. Teresa believes in giving back to your community and is a cousin to Beatrice, a fellow Heartland participant. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <iframe width="400" height="285" id="kmsembed-1_tzjd9i3x" src="https://mediahub.ku.edu/embed/secure/iframe/entryId/1_tzjd9i3x/uiConfId/45147491/st/0" class="kmsembed" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" allow="autoplay *; fullscreen *; encrypted-media *" referrerpolicy="no-referrer-when-downgrade" sandbox="allow-downloads allow-forms allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation allow-pointer-lock allow-popups allow-modals allow-orientation-lock allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-presentation allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" frameborder="0" title="Heartland Teresa Trimmed"></iframe> Community Identity Kansas City Language Mexico Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview Marta Caminero-Santangelo Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed Gabriela Language of Interview English and some Spanish Format Video, audio only, text only video Current City of Residence Where in Kansas or Missouri the Interviewee currently lives Overland Park, Kansas Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound Gabriela (G) Marta (M) G: I just happened to see a post from Angela Cervantes about how she had a group of women that used to meet and write stories. And she said that she wanted to start it up. I answered her and I said, hey, I'm Latina; I'm a writer. Can we start up something? When do you meet? And I forget what the name of the group group– M:--Las fuerzas G: And it was her and myself, and José, and Maria. They all knew each other. I was an outsider. And then of course, we added Miguel. I mean, we had I think a group of about 30 by the time we were done. You know, it did morph into something else, into a group that was just Spanish speakers. G: But it definitely speaks to what you were saying, how there's a sense of no Latinos in the Midwest and maybe it was maybe it was 32 years ago, I moved to Overland Park and yes, I did feel I was the only Latino within a 20 mile radius, and I probably was. G: But anyway, that was a dream of ours, to get our voices, to get our faces out in the public. We did it strongly for about ten years. I say we had maybe 30 readings a year. We were very busy. We did file to be a nonprofit. We've done everything from libraries to, we've been to the AWP several times, which was very impressive– M: And it’s back again? Yeah. Three or four times in March, I believe. G: So, I haven't done it since I've been a teacher. That part of my life, it's like maybe I should do something with my thesis. I'm working on writing again. But yes, there was a need and we found each other by chance. We were more than just an organization, we were a family, we still keep in contact with each other. G: I believe that in a time of need that if somebody called us up, we would all gather and again, maybe not have it as, as strong as we used to. But I think for me personally, it's the reason I'm teaching in middle school. I realized that I really did well with the younger generation. G: We did a couple of workshops with the migrant youth at KU where they host them over the summer and teach them leadership skills and all that. And we did two or three of those. I felt strongly that those children needed to see somebody like me as their educator. I wanted to make a difference. I think that's basically what everyone else in the group wanted. G: A lot of us have gone on and done some wonderful things like Zanath Caraza, she's out of what ten, 12 books published now, the first time she ever read in public, was it one of our readings? So she was definitely very much part of the organization also. But anyway, so that's what I have to say. G: What questions do you have before I follow up? M: So let me ask some follow up. Where do you teach now? G: I teach in Topeka School District. M: Oh, wow. G: I teach at Landon Middle School. I'm a seventh and eighth grade dual language teacher. M: Wow, wow. G: The vast majority of my children are Latinos. They come from Scott, dual language, which is a bilingual program. Dual language program, yes. That's what I do. Again, I'm serving the community and the kids are like my children. I'm invited to all the quinceñera parties or whatever because they like seeing someone like me in the classroom. M: Yeah. Do you do you see your teaching as a way of changing or I don't know, making tea more a home for Latinos like do you see the fact that you're teaching there as in some way changing the place? I knew very little bit about Topeka because I don't live in Topeka, but there is already a community there, a very [lots of emphasis] strong community, especially within the community of dual language parents, that advocates for the program, they're advocates for their children, they're advocates for their education. G: It only takes me a simple statements like “te habla con tu mamá, or “hablar con su mamá” , okay, no, no, no, Ms. Lemons. When Ms. Lemons calls means, she's already giving you 50 chances. The community is there, G: It’s a northeastern part of Topeka and not all good, but that's where my children come from. Even the children that are not native speakers, that are not Latino are part of the group. It's part of the family. M: Yeah. Okay. Let me [unknown] the Zoom lens. I guess I have two questions and I'm going to backstory this by talking to you about something I was talking about with José Faus, okay? Because as you know, he's in addition to being a writer, he's a muralist. And he did that gorgeous fantastic mural in Argentine that's well known. M: Now as I think about how we make a place our Latinos like, it's really obvious to me how murals can help to make a place their own right. Like you're painting the history of your community on a wall. Or, I don't know, Mexican restaurants or Mexican stores, things like that. M: I wonder how writing fits into that. Like can writing make a place? And the follow up question, is teaching a form of advocacy or activism in your case? [laughs]. G: Absolutely. In my, my peer that the other dual language teacher that does the lower grades, the sixth and seventh, She, for example, doesn't like to do a lot of story writing, she doesn't like to do poetry and novels that she does more of the grammar and all that. Definitely. G: As a matter of fact, I try to extend my children's learning by introducing authors that normally they would traditionally would not be taught. I teach them like for example, Gabriela Garcia Marquez. We'll also read the poet. I'm drawing a blank…Peruvian poet. There's Octavio, I'm drawing a blank– M: It’s okay. It will come to you later. G: It'll come to me. Yeah. But anyway, I definitely introduce some of the Latin American authors to them so that they know that people of brown color have beautiful voices and what beautiful language the Spanish language is. G: But yes, I think another thing that I became aware, fully aware of the need of me being in a school with dual language kids was we do a lot of story writing. And for example, I have them write semi-biographies, autobiographies of themselves, and I learned a lot about what their neighborhood is, the violence, the drugs, the issues with immigration. They will tell me the truth in their papers. G: I'm a culturally responsive teacher, where everything I teach somehow try to relate to their own personal lives. I think it makes a difference because my children do their work– M: Yeah. G: You know, and not only that, if you're excited about writing poetry or about just writing in general, they're going to be excited about it. M: Yeah. G: So, yes. I think that it's important to do this for the kids, offer an extension of their traditional teaching, because I think it gives them a voice, most definitely. I believe that these children have their own opinions, they have their own beliefs. And I think it's important for them to, important for me to mentor them so that they can write what their personal values are. What makes them strong in their community as a son and a daughter. G: Because when we have parent-teacher conferences, it's always about respect. You have to respect your t– [the parents ask]: “Is my son or daughter respecting you, Ms. Lemmons? If not, give me a call.” G: Sometimes when people come to the United States as immigrants, they say after the second generation that you lose the language, some of the culture. But my children are not like that. Sometimes when we have days that we're just doing easy work, relaxing on a Friday. What kind of music do they want to play when I play Spotify? They want corridos, they want reggaeton, they want Fernandez. G: Definitely, they advocate for themselves and their culture. I think that they need to see more people like me in the classroom. But I hope I answered your questions, but– M: You did, you answered the second one very well. And I'm going to get back to it in a second. What about the first one? Does writing have a role in making place? G: Absolutely. M: How? G: I will give you an example. I teach House on Mango Street by Sandra Ciseneros. It was one of the first books I ever read, that Latino brown person. And it was in college. I didn't know that Latinos wrote until I got to college. And this is being from South Texas actually. She was one of my college professors at the University of New Mexico, and I'm part of the Macondo, which is something she founded. G: And I tell them that this is big in House on Mango Street, it is definitely about a sense of place, a sense of, a sense of belonging. I have several projects that relate to the sense of being, the importance of knowing who you are and where you came from. I haven't, for example, to do a diagram of their house, what does their house look like? And then I say, okay, well, what about the five senses? What do you smell? Do you smell? What is that soap? It’s fabuloso? They're always fabuloso. What do you taste? Tamales, pinto beans or whatever. What is your world? G: And then I say, okay, pick one of the places in your house, or even outside the house that speaks to you the most. Go into that place and tell me what you see, what you hear, what you taste, tell me your story. And they love that project. I come out with some fabulous stories, Not all happy, like I'm eating food or whatever, I'm celebrating La Navidad or whatever. Some of these stories are deep and they're not all pretty. M: Yeah, yeah. G: I think writing definitely has a place in making my children feel that they have a voice, that somebody understands them and their voice is important. Yeah. Somebody is listening to them. This is who I am and where am I going to go to? Wherever you go to family is always your roots–your raíces. M: So that's beautiful. That was a great example. Thank you so much for that example. That was a wonderful example. G: I am trying to get back into writing. I've just been so busy. When I went to the transition to teaching program, I literally like took six college hours each semester, and then I taught full time, got thrown into it. Into yeah, I've been slowly trying to get back to my writing, but I think that's where my corazón is. M: Yeah. Yeah. G: There's another thing I want to share other than the center, so is the House on Mango Street. We have a section where we talk about cultures, about people that come from other countries, immigrants in our text and I developed a lesson plan, it's a process, number one, I ask the children in Del work. Basically, if you were to if you were to tell name me, the person in your family who knows everything about the family, you know, I forget the jargon, Who would it be? G: ´Then I ask . Okay. Oh, whatever. Mom and dad. And then I say, okay. So who are you from? That's the second question. What do you know about where you're from, whether what country or whatever, whatever your last name. Then I say, okay, you found your expert on the family, the historian or whatever. M: Right. G: Okay. Write me five questions that you want to know about you and your family or about yourself. Okay? So they do that. Then the fourth part is I say, okay, we get all the kids together in groups and I say we're going to do jot thoughts. Okay. Again, including the five that you had given me the previous day. Jot down as much as you can. Things you want to know. Where do we come from? Do we have anybody who served prison? What's your favorite food? G: Well, what do you want to ask these people? If you had in front of you, why would you ask them? So I come up with a list of about 100 questions that the kids come up with on their own, not me. Yeah. And they have to pick ten of them and they have to interview this person and it's phenomenal. M: That sounds like a fantastic exercise. G: I mean, they, they have to do a Google Slide presentation, they have to present to the class and like last year I found out that half of my children came from Durango [Mexico]. M: Oh, wow. Wow, that's fascinating. G: It a joke. It was a joke after a while. And I said, you know what, You know what it is? It's like there's somebody in Durango says, hey, you know, “Tengo una tía en Durango y te puede dar chamba:” you know, why don't you move to Topeka? I said, yeah, that's how community starts. Yeah. But anyway, that's a project too, where they get to learn about themselves and some other history. Anyway, I've got l– G: I have something to tell you. Definitely have something to talk about. Yes. Be cause. My birth father, who died recently, was actually very much involved in the Farm Workers Union. Uh huh. It was actually one of Sid Chavez bodyguard. And I was adopted out of the family, but my siblings all worked in the fields in Santa Maria, California. And my mother was actually a civil case where the United Farm Workers sued the growers because she got really sick from the pesticides. M: Oh my God. G: And my brother, my brothers, remember I still have two of them alive, three of them. Remember Cesar Chavez staying over at their house. They knew whenever Cesar Chavez came over that we would be sleeping in the garage. And they talk about how the women used to come over to the house in Santa Maria and do the flags and stuff. G: So would you be interested in something like that? M: I would love to hear that. Okay. G: That would be my brother even told me one time how they would do the hats to wear the fields. M: Oh my gosh, I am to hear, I feel really bad. G: My father passed a couple of months ago, my birth father, and he personally knew who is the woman, the right hand of Cesar Chavez? …Dolores Huerta. They were friends. They were friends. And I always wanted to put them in contact with each other. M: So thank you so much Gabriela. We'll be back in touch anytime, any time I'll send you the stuff on the ficciones. G: Yes, yes, yes. I'm on board with that. M: Awesome, thanks, Gabriela. G: All right. Adíos. M: Bye bye. G: Bye bye. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Gabriela Subject The topic of the resource Oral history from Southern Texas to Topeka, Kansas Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <iframe width="400" height="285" id="kmsembed-1_as2ny51q" src="https://mediahub.ku.edu/embed/secure/iframe/entryId/1_as2ny51q/uiConfId/45147491/st/0" class="kmsembed" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" allow="autoplay *; fullscreen *; encrypted-media *" referrerpolicy="no-referrer-when-downgrade" sandbox="allow-downloads allow-forms allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation allow-pointer-lock allow-popups allow-modals allow-orientation-lock allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-presentation allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" frameborder="0" title="Heartland_Gabriela Trimmed"></iframe> Description An account of the resource Gabriela has Spanish and Mexican heritage and grew up in Southern Texas. Currently, she serves her community as a middle school teacher at a dual language (English and Spanish) school in Topeka, Kansas. In this oral history, you can listen to Gabriela’s approach to teaching as well as her family’s connections to prominent Latino activists such as Cesar Chavez and Dolores Huerta. Community Education Identity Texas Topeka Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview Marta Caminero-Santangelo Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed Miguel Language of Interview English Format Video, audio only, text only Video Current City of Residence Where in Kansas or Missouri the Interviewee currently lives Kansas City, KS Transcript Miguel (M) Marta (MC) M: So Tomás Rivera, really, the only interaction that I've had with his work is the film that they made from, you know, from his short story. And that just blew me away. I'm like, I know these people. These are my uncles and my aunts, and I know that I mean, my type of farmwork wasn't as grueling and migratory as theirs was, but I know those type of people who are hard working and everything, his mom. M: But then the users and, you know, the opportunists that were like the doñas that took care of him and buried people in the, you know, that's just crazy story. But yeah, I mean, that runs the range in the community. So I remember watching that film, like, Wow. That's a story that . M: That's like my story to know because when I was little, the closest thing that I knew to farm workers was Little House on he Prairie. So so I read all those books, and I'm like, It's not the same, but they're farmworking kids. So. But yeah, that's really all I knew. M: And whenever I tried to look for his work, it was always in Spanish, and I don't speak or read Spanish. I'm like, I know I'm missing a lot of stuff. So I'm just going to write the story that I know. And actually, that story came from a poem that I wrote about my mom called “Madre de los campos.” And I read that for Okay, you used to have this organization this program called Harvest of Hope Leadership Academy, and they would bring migrant kids from all over the state, and they would go there for like three weeks. M: And one year, they asked us at the collective to come and be mentors and give a talk to them. And I thought, Okay, these kids were farm workers like I was, and I've never really spoken about this. So I'm going to write a poem and I'm going to read it to them. M: And I got to let them know that this is real, that I'm not bullshitting them. They're going to be like, Oh, it gets better. I'll be okay. You're hard working people, you know, that's all true, but they don't want to hear that all the time. M: So I wrote I wrote in the poem how my mom, I just was like, really mad at my mom because we were farm workers, and you know, the farmer would cheat us out of money, and she would pay other people. And I was like, I'm never going to be as stupid as her. M: And the room just got quiet. M: And I'm like, Oh, that's the unspoken truth that we all farmworker kids have is that we love when we hate our parents, and you're never supposed to say anything bad about your mom, but I did it. And so then I continued on with my poem. M: And then I just heard some sobbing and crying, and I was like, I started wiping out my face. And when we were done, we just all started crying because it was like, The saw me and I saw them, and there was a real moment. M: It wasn't any of this like, Oh, if you work really hard, you can leave the field. It was like, this is just the reality of what it is to be a farmworking kid. M: I'm not going to tell you anything more or anything less. I'm just telling you that I know and I see. And so, after that. He gave him some books of Sandra Cisneros, she had come to the Kansas City Public Library, and we had a whole bunch of books and all these kids are like, Would you sign my book? I'm like, I can't That's Sandra’s book but please, would you? I'm like, Okay. M: So there's some books out there with my signature Sandra Cisnero’s House on Mango Street. M: But that was when I realized, Okay, I need to turn this into a short story because we're going to do the Cuentos del Centro. And so I expanded it and filled it out as much as I could. And then I started thinking, Well, I still want to do more poetry about farm work because clearly, there's something in me and it resonated with these kids. M: So even if I just write it from them every year, I go back and I just read them two or three poems, I want new things to write with them. So that's kind of what happened. And whenever I write, I always think of those kids, they're my first audience. M: My farm worker kids are my first audience that I write for whether I write for being queer or being old and being a fat guy. I'm just writing for them because they need to know that this exists in our community. M: So they're always my first audience. MC: That's really fascinating to hear that Latino farm kids are your first audience that's. M: Yeah. I mean, because it's a kid that's when I needed a voice in my head to say, this is what you can do. And so I'm kind of locked into that nurture that person that's in you. But then I see them right in front of me. And I still do some mentoring in Waverly, Missouri. We go to the Apple orchards and talk to the kids, and they have an after school program. M: And we just have these conversations and they tell me crazy things that have gone on in the fields and with the brothers and sisters and I'm like, Oh, my gosh. Yes. I remember those things. M: Talking to them makes me remember more because I was ashamed for a long time to be a farm worker. So I just pushed it down. M: And I remember I worked at this place in KCK called Harvest America. Their target group was migrant seasonal farm workers, and I worked there, and I never told any of them that I was a farm worker. I worked there for three years, and I I never told them because I just forgot. I just completely wiped it out of my memory. M: And every day I would go in and there would be a long line of people waiting to get services, and their kids would be in the hallway. And now as an adult, I thought, why didn't I just take a moment or two just to talk to those kids and say, I know it's tough, but, you know, I know what you're saying. M: But I never did. M: And so then when I got the chance to do that for the kids at the KU program, I'm like, I'm not going to miss this opportunity. I missed it once, and now it's my chance. M: So now that people don't get another chance to say what they need to say. So I did and I just figured, well, I'm just going to keep on saying what I need to say. So… MC: Can you tell me in brief. So you were a farm worker in the Midwest? M: No. I was a farmworker in Texas, in the Texas Panhandle area. Yeah, child labor. Yeah. And. MC: Yeah, wow. God. Is the story “Hijo con filo” supposed to be set in Texas? M: In my mind, it is, but I don't think I put a setting for it. I don't think I do. Yeah. But Kansas and Texas are very similar. The land is very similar. You would think that Kansas is flat, but it's got a lot of hills and valleys, the Texas panhandle is the same way; people think, Oh, it's just all flat, but it's got canyons and hills and valleys. M: Sometimes when I'm driving across Kansas, I'll be like, Oh, this looks like mo this looks like Palo Verde Canyon, this looks and I just start remembering all these places that are in the Texas Panhandle. M: And the people are kind of the same, you know, the racism is a little more over in Texas. And here, it's a little more subtle. They wrap it up in Midwest nice, but it's still the same degree. [both laugh] MC: You know, it's still the same. It's so funny. You know, Tomas Rivera, who's always associated with South Texas wrote this essay that no one knows about where he called the Great Plains a utopia. Like he had these I don't know, rose colored glasses when it came to the Midwest. MC: Maybe it was about Midwest nice and the less overt racism here. But he said something like, you know, in the Great Plains, we were working with people instead of for people. MC: It sounds like you grew up in Texas, right? M: Yeah. I grew up in Texas and in my 20s. I moved to the Kansas City area. M: But, you know, those early 20s are very formative years where you kind of set the path of your life. So I kind of was I grew up physically and mentally in Texas, but I came here and kind of found my path. M: I really just came here Kansas is a really Kansas City is a really great transitional place. So if you want to go to a bigger city, you can have that experience of living in a city. But if you want to go back to living in a rural area, you still have enough ruralness to it that you can you know, it's not that difficult of a switch. M: So it's really one of those unique places that it's both a big city and a small town. And I kind of just like, Well, I like the conveniences of all the big city and the culture that comes with it, although it's not always Latino culture. M: And then I kind of like the driving out a little bit and kind of seeing some fields and some planes and stuff like that. It's kind of very settling. I mean, there's nothing like seeing a big wide Texas sunrise, but Kansas comes really close. If you find it like an open space, it just takes up the whole sky. So yeah. MC: Sunsets are gorgeous here. M: Mm hm. MC: What brought you here? M: My oldest sister got married and his family was living here in Kansas and she was going to have a baby and it was the first baby. So everybody moved up to be there around the baby.\ M: And then everybody's moved away and I'm the last one here and I'm like, Well, I guess I'm like I put enough time in this area. I like, This is my home. M: This is my place. M: I mean, I love Texas, but I could never live there again because the politics is just too crazy, and I don't think I could deal with that overt racism again anymore. And that would get me in trouble. That would give me in trouble. M: But my family lives in Orlando and I don't think that's where I'll go, but, you know, you want to go where your family is as you get older, some, who knows? Who knows? MC: Yeah. Florida is a pretty dismal state too. It is. M: The politics are awful, but you know family. Just as awful. MC: So here's a question that I've been thinking about. You know, I talked to José Faus, who is also a founding member and to that and he's a muralist and I can understand how murals change the place and make it more Latino, right? Like incorporate Latino history. MC: Here's the question I'm struggling with. Can writing like the writing of Cuentos del Centro, can writing also change a particular place and make a place for Latino in Kansas City? M: I think it can because before the Latino Writers Collective, there really wasn't storytelling from our culture. It was just people having parties and drinking, and then they would tell stories that way. This kind of came a more formalized way of telling stories, and it was just really a way for us to work on our own work and try and get each other like, Hey, there's a place you can get published here. M: We really weren't, as far as I know, really big into doing public readings and stuff, but people wanted it because they'd never really seen it before. And so we do, Okay, we'll do it. It'll give us a chance to polish our reading skills and you get a tight lineup and learn how to do all that kind of stuff. M: And so we did. M: And then people just kept inviting us to do stuff. And especially around young people, schools, that we would get teachers who says, Hey, the only Latino in our school is the janitor. Would you guys come and talk to these kids be like a role model? M: So then our readings took on another dimension of, now, we have to be role models and mentors and try and lift the community while we're still right. M: So it wasn't ever just about, hey, I'm going to read some poems, and thank you very much. It's like, there's an extra layer of responsibility like multiple layers because you're trying to make the place better for kids and role model for them, but then they put yourself too high on a pedestal because then they're like, why, I'll never be like that. But my grades aren't good enough. M: So whenever I would read, I'd say, I know writing and reading may not be your thing. Maybe math is your thing. And then you just go for it. You tell your story and numbers and math. I said, writing is my thing. Math is not my thing. I'm bad at math and science, but some of you are good on those things. So whatever it is that you're good at, you tell your story to that. M: And then they would say, Oh, okay, because some kids they don't want to write because they think they're like a baby or they don't I know they just have trouble when you think about, oh, some writers are going to come in and I don't want to do this. M: But then we tell stories and sometimes they want to tell stories. I'm like, you don't have to write it down. I don't care about the grammar. M: Just tell me the story that you want to tell. M: Okay. And then they tell a really good story. I don't get caught up on the grammar. That's just we can fix that later if you want to write it down. So once you do that, you can kind of they can recognize that they have story within them, and being able to express that story or tell that story, it really does. M: It changes the place. M: It changes the way you view the place. M: It's like another way of that you're giving yourself permission to kind of expand beyond your body and your family, you can expand by telling the story. And that story goes to who knows whose ears it goes to, and they take it, they can accept it or reject it, but they can't hear it. M: So that's how story changes place here because you just tell enough of our stories and it will embed in people's story, whether they want to or not. M: Yeah. So I think story really can change your place. And if you can couple it with art, murals and festivals and all these things, there's all these other sensory things that come and they link what story is together. M: So there's artists community and they always focus on visual art and they don't include words or music– that really makes me sad because they're not getting the connection that these are all connected together, and people relate in different ways to different things. Some people are visual. Some people like to hear the rhythm. Some people actually like to have rhythm as in music. M: So they're really segmenting the society as a part of the culture that they want to engage, whether it's just paintings or an art show. M: That's why I really enjoy the Latino Arts Festival because they have food and drink and low writers and storytellers. It's just a whole day where you're like, every sense of you is engaged. So yeah. And that's how you change, you know, you make a place you are. M: You can change the perception. Even the perception that you have about a place,... MC: I can so tell that you're a writer just for play expressions. It's so beautiful. Have you seen changes in the place? In your time here? In Kansas. M: I have seen because when we first started the collective, I think there was about 12 of us. No, no, there was more because they had just put out their first book, the Primera Página. M: I think they had about 30 people. But a lot of people when they write and they get published they're like, Okay, that was it. That's all they ever wanted just have my name on a book, and I'm done. M: Then after that book came out, it fell to 12 people and then five people, and it would fluctuate, but I could see that there was a core group of probably about seven people who were constantly showing up and wanting to improve the work and looking for places to write and publish. And then another person would come and join. M: And so I could see how we were growing our numbers and we were teaching each other, so that the skills that we were sharing changed the literary landscape in Kansas City for us because people started to recognize us and want us to be part of their, you know, riverfront reading series. M: All these places that were closed off to us before, where if we were just individuals, they would say, thanks but no thanks. But since we were, you know, we had a good 10 people, you know, in our stable of talent, they would say, Oh, okay, we can do a whole evening, and that'll fulfill our diversity, whatever. M: But then when we got there, we blew their pants off. I mean, we just blew their minds. And then they would ask us to come back. And not just for Hispanic Heritage month or Cinco de Mayo, but just in other parts and other times. M: And then there were some local publishers who wanted to publish some chapbooks from members, and there's people who I think if it hadn't been for the collective, they wouldn't be published authors. So I know it has changed the place that way. M: The collective has kind of fallen to the wayside now. It barely exists. I think just in name only. M: And I really would hope that somebody could revive that. I really was hoping that, you know, it could go back into a nonprofit and do some grant writing and we could do all those mentor things that we used to do for free, and now there's funds for. Because back then, there wasn't funds to do all the stuff that we do. M: So I hope it has another life in it. M: If not for any other reason, then it's part of our history. I think it's probably been in existence for about 20 years, so you can't let something like that die, you know? MC: I would really I mean, on a personal level, I would really I would love to see a revival where a new generation of aspiring Latinx writers. M: Yeah. MC: Were mentored by you all. M: Yeah. We were kind of you know? Yeah, yeah. We were kind of moving in that direction. But then there was a little split in the collective where we had Spanish-speaking members who didn't want to engage in English, and some of us who don't speak don't speak Spanish, were kind of feeling like, Okay, well, we're not getting as much attention as we used to. M: So there was a whole struggle there. M: And then the collective put out an anthology that was just totally Spanish speaking, which was great, and I think it won some awards, and it really opened the door even further that, not only can we talk about culture, we can talk in the language that we choose to. M: And then after that, we were going to do an anthology of LGBTQ Latinx writers. We started putting that together, and then the collectives kind of dissipated. M: But that project always had some pushback. Some people didn't want to do it for religious reasons, and I was like, look, you guys got the Spanish anthology. I was the president at the time. I could have nixed that because the queer anthology was the next one up, but there were more Spanish-speaking members and there were people who would admit that they were queer. M: I said, Let's do the Spanish speaking one so that way we can engage everybody. And then if we do the queer anthology, we can have some dual language that's going on. M: But when it came time for that project to happen, it just didn't happen. And it was sad because there were some young people in their 20s and 30s who really were, like, excited about this project. M: And then the collective just kind of folded. M: I'm like, Oh, we could have had that project out because I was going to be my vision for that anthology was going to be it's a book that your tía could read on the bus. And she could just have the cover and read it and she wouldn't be naked people on the cover. Just something that she could learn and read about her grandkids or her nephews or whatever, and know more about what is this gay stuff? I don't know what's going on and just read stories from people who are from the community here in Kansas or at least in the Midwest. M: So that way it is not about people from California or New York because those are places that don't exist here, right? It's just some of this is in this Midwest area, specifically Kansas City. M: It would be people that they know or that they heard of our families that they've heard of who would be telling these stories. So I thought that would be an impact in itself. It didn't happen. I hope that it still does happen. It may be maybe after the anthology project. MC: Yeah. I have a niece. Well, okay. So what's the word the non-gender word I looked it up. I can't remember. There's a non gender word for east nephew. But I can't remember now because my brain. Yeah. But I have a child of my sister who is not gender binary. MC: And explaining that to my 95 year-old father, you know, is impossible. M: Yeah. MC: Oh, my God to hear a story. I really. Oh, my gosh. I would love I would so love to see a collection like that. Yeah. M: Yeah, I mean, and that was like ten years ago that we had this I'm like, because I think one of my abilities as a writer is I can spot trends that are happening or they're going to happen. You know, when you're a writer, you listen to the community, what they're talking about. I'm like, people are talking about non-binary stuff, and we need to be able to, and feel that it's going to hit our community, and if we don't know what's going to happen, the fear is going to take over rather than being open. M: So I wanted to work on that project and then it just didn't happen, thankfully, there are enough active young people out there who are talking about this. M: But it's not on a wide scale. It's within their families and with their friends. If we could Primarily Midwest either. MC: Yeah. I You're obviously an amazing writer and an amazing story teller. I appreciate that you're talking to me. M: Oh, sure. Yeah, it's more free flowing that way, and people kind of anticipate the answers they're going to give when they know what the questions are. This is going to make me sound good, and, you know, yeah. I mean, we can do that, but that's not like authentic, like, just telling the story. M: And when people start talking, they don't know things come up and, that's a good approach. MC: So that would be wonderful if I can get your story. MC: This was also super wonderful, and I so appreciate you telling me about the collective. M: Yeah, no, no problem. There's some way that we could revive that I could find some who have a little more energy than I do, a little more free time. Just sit back and be the elder who guides, but let them do what they need to do with it because it should go to a new generation. Yeah. Yeah. MC: It should and I would love to see the LGBTQ collection come out, there's such a need for it. M: Yeah. MC: There's a gap. M: Mm hmm. Yeah. Well, there's enough local presses now because before there was hardly any local presses. There's enough local presses now that I think one of them would say, Yeah, we'll take that on a manuscript. Yeah. Would, you know. Yeah. MC: Thank you so much. M: Well, thank you for being patient and persistent M: You know, I don't check my personal–I mean, my professional Facebook page very often, which I should. M: So yeah, I'll send you to my personal Facebook page and friend me there and you can send me a message. MC: Yeah, awesome. And I'll look up and try to find the farm worker– M: –Anthology. I'll send that to you as well. Okay. Well, thank you. MC: Thank you . Happy New Year. Happy holidays. M: You too. MC: Bye bye. All right. Be safe. M: Bye bye. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Miguel Subject The topic of the resource Oral history from Texas to Kansas City, KS. Description An account of the resource Miguel is a queer Latinx writer who draws from his background as a farmworker in Texas. He currently lives in Kansas City where he aspires to help future generations of Latinxs tell their stories. Listen to his oral history to learn more about what it means to make a place your own via storytelling. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <iframe width="400" height="285" id="kmsembed-1_g8jspprc" src="https://mediahub.ku.edu/embed/secure/iframe/entryId/1_g8jspprc/uiConfId/45147491/st/0" class="kmsembed" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" allow="autoplay *; fullscreen *; encrypted-media *" referrerpolicy="no-referrer-when-downgrade" sandbox="allow-downloads allow-forms allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation allow-pointer-lock allow-popups allow-modals allow-orientation-lock allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-presentation allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" frameborder="0" title="Heartland Miguel Interview TRIMMED"></iframe> Community Identity Kansas City Language Texas Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview Aron Muci Language of Interview English Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed Josef Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data audio Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Josef Subject The topic of the resource Oral history from Mexico to Wichita, KS Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Early 1900s, 1930s-50s Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <iframe width="400" height="285" id="kmsembed-1_rmoyqzsg" src="https://mediahub.ku.edu/embed/secure/iframe/entryId/1_rmoyqzsg/uiConfId/45147491/st/0" class="kmsembed" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" allow="autoplay *; fullscreen *; encrypted-media *" referrerpolicy="no-referrer-when-downgrade" sandbox="allow-downloads allow-forms allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation allow-pointer-lock allow-popups allow-modals allow-orientation-lock allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-presentation allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" frameborder="0" title="Heartland Josef TRIMMED"></iframe> Description An account of the resource Josef’s father was from Michoacán, Mexico and his mother, of Mexican heritage, was from Lyons, Kansas. Josef, a Korean War veteran, remembers the importance of education and became an educator and principal in Wichita, KS. In this oral history, you can listen to him speak about his humble origins from the railroad tracks to the office. Community Education Identity Mexico Wichita Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview Marta Caminero-Santangelo Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed José Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data video Language of Interview English, some Spanish Current City of Residence Where in Kansas or Missouri the Interviewee currently lives Kansas City, Kansas Intermediate point in journey (1) City/State or Country to which interviewee (or parents/grandparents) traveled before coming to current point of residence Overland Park, Kansas Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound José (J) Marta (M) J: I do identify as an immigrant. I know there's a lot of things that are attached to that for a lot of people, but for me, it's simply that I came from another place that had already formed me to some extent. J: I left when I was a little over 9.5 years–about 9.5 years old. I was born in Bucaramanga, Colombia, South America. The coffee region in the mountains. I have great memories of place. The house that I spent most of the time with. J: When my mother came up here, she immigrated earlier than my brother and I did. She came up here with my sister. She married an American stationed at Fort Leavenworth. So she came up here looking to settle herself down and put the roots that would then allow for her to bring my brother and I up here. J: There was a long separation. J: We were basically in the care of my grandmother. I recall for a little while there was kind of not an orphanage, but it was like a school, a private school where we lived with the family. I think that was kind of a failed experiment, to be honest. J: My memories of that are kind of murky, but they weren't all that nice. J: But then, most of the time, I do remember being taken care of by my grandmother. And we would visit various aunts. There's four aunts that were part of the family. They were stretched from Armenia to Medellin, Barranquilla, and Bucaramanga. Also, there was the ancestral home, which was Puerto Wilches. But that was kind of like my negotiations. I mean, that was kind of like the background, the place that I identified that I knew spending summers or whatever it would have been visiting other families, always kind of being pulled along by my grandmother. J: And then, like around 8.5. I remember there was about a year-long process. We got a notice. And I I really don't even know exactly where or anything. I have no recollection of it, but we knew we were going to go and visit our mother. J: And which was kind of a strange thing because when you're separated from somebody for that long, you kind of don't really have the grounding of who they really are. I mean, my grandmother was raising my brother and I. J: I had no real sense that there was another person more responsible for that than than my grandmother. And so I remember we were we got a little introduction to the English language. It would not be fair to say that I came totally not knowing some words, but it was at the most rudimentary level that a nine year old might be paying attention to when they think of coming to this country it's just like which is going for a visit. J: It's kind of almost like a lark. J: I don't understand my brother and I understood the seriousness of what was about to happen. Sure. J: We arrived December 29, I remember, five 30 in the evening. I don't know why that sticks with me. There must have been something that I saw or. Somebody said. I know we were my brother and I were sat in a two seats next to each other. We were under the care of the stewardesses, the airplane staff primarily. J: I remember I think it was the captain or one of the mates helping us off the plane and landed on the tarmac back then. And then being taken inside where my mother and my stepfather and my sister at that time, were waiting for us. J: I just recall we really had the sense that we were just going for a visit. We had no clue that we were never coming back. And I think it kind of dawned on us I still don't even know what it meant to me, honestly, to be truthful about it. I don't think I was thinking too much about things. There was just like, things were coming at us in so many different ways. J: I remember we spent some time in Miami. I think we went to the beach, which was kind of interesting is the last place we saw when we left, I started Tajena and then we're in Miami. I do recall getting in the car. My stepfather drove a ’56 Chevy Sedan, I was kind of like a two tone white kind of a powder blue baby blue thing. I've always seen that. Every time I see one of those cars, I get extremely nostalgic. J: But I remember getting in the car and we just drove up from the south up to Kansas City. J: And I think the thing that stands out the most about that trip from me and has impacted me more more I thought about it or reflected on it. I remember we went we were driving up through Mississippi. And this is early 1965, because I think we spent about a week or two in Miami before we drove–headed north towards Kansas City. J: We had stopped by we had driven by town called Jackson. I can remember that so clearly. My stepfather is leaning over and asking me to say the word Jackson. And I'm trying to say it, but, you know, with Spanish, the “J” is a very hard sounds like “hota.” I'm saying Jackson Jackson. And he say no, say soft soft. I just kept going, Oh, I just finally gave up. J: And he stopped, but he then said something that has always been kind of like the formative thing for me and the most instructional thing about where we were headed. He said there will be people in this country who will not like you or judge you by the color of your skin. J: And I didn't I don't think it didn't sink in. J: I had no clue what he was talking about because Well, my brother is very white-presenting. Very caucasian looking. I'm brown, but it didn't seem like anything that was a distinction. It was like a distinction without any meaning towards me. I didn't see it. J: It was at that moment, I realized I had a color. J: A friend of mine, Xánath Caraza wrote a book was a great poem that she had into when she came to this country. She was you know, she says, what color are you? She says, Oh, I can pick any color I want. J: Well, we didn't have that option because we were too young to understand what the hell was going on. J: But I remember not understanding that. We started crying. My brother and I started crying. J: Years later, I understood and I wrote a poem about this. I understood what he was really trying to say because we were driving through the Jackson, Mississippi, the South of the 1960s three months earlier. And I did not know any of this at the time. I discovered this later when I was started reading history. So. There had been Shane Schwarmer Goodman been kidnapped. And there were civil rights workers trying to register people for the vote in the South. And they had been kidnapped and disappeared and then found dead. J: The Klan was involved. J: But I didn't know that. But I think that was what he was trying to tell me. I think he was aware that this would be something that would kind of define some aspect of my life or my brother and I's life or any immigrant’s life. J: Just fast forward or let's go back a minute. My images of America were very much constructed by the realities that were presented to some television screens. And I really never thought about the North. I never thought about North America much. It wasn't in my mentality. J: The only thing I recall are two things. We used to have a television that sat underneath the stairs that went to this alcove was a room above the garage. And the garage had been converted into a roof for my brother and I to live in where we were sleeping. That was our bedroom after my mother had come up. But I remember when you stepped out, there was the stairs that led upstairs, and underneath that little alcove that construction made is where the television was at. J: It was not really something we watched a lot because it was inconsequential. It was, Oh, there it is underneath the steps. It was chairs there, but I remember the show that sticks out to me the most Ponderosa, which translated means bonanza. That was my image of the United States, really, the Ponderosa. J: The other one was even something that had taken place probably about a well, 1963, November 22, 1963. I can recall distinctly, a lot of people from the US will say they know exactly where they were at what Kennedy was shot. J: Well, I know exactly what I was doing. We were my cousins and I were in the backyard shucking peace. There was going to be a family dinner because they were wanting to be many of. And we were shucking peas. J: And there was a lot. J: But it was, you know, kids would make a game out of it. J: But then one of my cousins came out and grabbed the whatever container we were putting the piece into and took them away from us and then got the other piece and just scoped away. She was angry, she was mad, she was crying. We didn't know what was going on being us kids. We just started playing, we just went on and played and played. But soon, you could hear the wail of the women in the room extending out into the backyard. And that was when we were told that the president of the United States had died. J: Yeah. I don't I can't tell you that it meant anything to me at that point. J: But it's an extremely vivid memory that I have of how the US impacted our family down there. I'm sure I could go back and find any reasons why the women were so incensed or surprised, saddened by what had happened up North. But like I said, I had no connection to that beyond that. J: Years later, of course, I became totally enthralled, I think, by the idea of the conspiracy theories that came out about Kennedy's death. It was like a really big education about the political systems and the contradictions in this country. J: But at that point, I was just a kid. I was glad that we didn't have to shut the piece because my cousin took them all and we went out and played until the sadness of the room brought us all back together. I don't recall much after that. But those are the two– M: Can I ask a quick question: So you were not in the US for the assassination of Kennedy? J: I was not. We came up here a year and a month later. But I think. M: Okay. Yeah. J: That was the first instinct that I knew about the presidents of that country something significant. J: So fast forward, we arrive in Kansas City, we drive through the South, and we arrive in right here in Kansas City over in the West Bluffs just off Cesar Chavez Avenida on the West Side. And we lived there for about two years. It's the projects overlooking the stockyards, I can recall. J: I have a vivid memory of what that place looked like because I mean, that was my life for the next two years. But I remember the smell of the stock yards because they were still there. I literally was we could go to the edge of the cliffs and overlooked down the American Royal and we could see it. That was like before they built Kemper Arena. J: So we could see the stuff, we could see what was going on. But that was kind of our introduction. J: I remember distinctly snow, the first disappointment of winter. We used to do this ritual in Christmas in Colombia, where we'd go and get a tree for the Christmas tree. And my cousins and I, we would strip the tree bare then we'd spend all this time gluing these little balls, white foam balls kind to make it look like it had snow. J: So you know, we're getting close to Kansas City. I remember that night we arrived in Kansas City. It was cold and there was snow on the ground. And I remember my stepfather taking us out we kind of like got un familiar with the house it was in the evening. J: And I remember my brother and sister and cry because it wouldn't make a snowman. I mean, that was the only thing I knew about snow. I was like, you make a snowman. It was like, dry powdery snow and all I could get was little pyramids, you know? J: So that was my first disappointment with snow and I've never gotten over it because I can't stand winter. Never will be able to adapt to that. J: But that was really the introduction we came. We were on the West Side. And there was really Outside of the bitterness of the cold, you're young. I can't tell you what I was thinking and other stuff, but I think the transition was kind of smooth in the ways because the West Side of that time, especially the projects we were at, there were a lot of immigrants that were living there that came from South America. I can't remember there was some Ecuadorians, Peruanos, Colombianos that lived in that area. They were. M: I was going to ask why you went there. Like how did you get to Kansas? Because of the immigrants? J: Well, no. Actually, my stepfather was stationed at Fort Leavenworth. He had been in the Air Force. He was an officer So he was stationed at Leavenworth,, which is a college kind of for military. So I think this was the closest place for him. J: And I think Catholic charities, I know it was involved in helping us come up here. And I think that was probably a gateway, the Northeast area, and then the West Side, if you were Latino there were already some families living there when we arrived that had pretty much a similar histories that were immigrants, first generation. J: So I think that's really what it was. J: I do remember I have memories of that playing as a kid. They had swings, we played in the backyard, we played The Beatles was a big thing. I remember that was popular music was a big thing. So we would mimic the songs that we heard. We still couldn't speak English fluently or anything like that. But I can remember one time we're playing and we're using mops literally to mimic guitars and just mouthing the words to “She loves you. Yeah, yeah, yeah.” J: I I'm sure we were horrible. J: But that was kind of the introduction. J: We went into school pretty fairly quickly. I can't recall which cool it was. I think it's not Guardian Angels. There's two parishes down there Sacred Heart, maybe at that time in the West Side. But very quickly, my mother had the sense that she wanted to move from the west side out to the suburbs. And I think that's what she had been working on was saving money so she could buy and they could buy a place, kind of, like, out in the suburbs. So my mother started taking us out of the schools and putting us into different schools. J: I was meeting new friends pretty much all the time. J: I wasn't around the kids that I played with. J: We started going up to Redemptress which was up on 33rd in Broadway. And I remember we used to take the bus, you catch the bus on 35. And it would somehow get us up to where we were going. But then when she moved us to Overland Park, it was 71st and Rigs. The church there would have been Oh, my God. Oh, God. I can't remember the name now. Well, I picture 71st and Metalf, Our Lady of….whatever. J: But so it was 71st and Metcalf so in order to get we started going to school there first before we actually moved there. So we started going to, I think it was Santa Fe Trail, Elementary is where I went. We would take the bus up to 71st Street and then from there, 70 horse Mac walk down to the schools we went to Queen of the Holy Rose. I think that was the church. That was for for some reason, my brother and my sister went to that school, and I went on further down to Santa Fe Trail, Elementary a public school. J: And then within a year, we had moved to that area, so we weren't taking the bus back anymore. It was kind of interesting because years later, I ran into a friend of mine who I knew when we were living in the West Side. And I think this tells you a lot, I think about the way separation works and the way we kind of build narratives around that. J: So when we left the school, I think we went on summer break or something, and then we were gone. We moved. There was, like, no going around and calling all my friends from school or anything like that. He had no accidents. He didn't have, you know, privileges on the phone or anything like that, didn't have cell phone. So I just for a lot of my friends, I just disappeared. He was here, and then when they was gone. J: I ran into this woman, who was a friend of mine back then, who recognized me remembered me by name and approached me and asked me, are you the Jose house that went to the school Redempress and I said, yes, she says, Oh, my God, I thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead. I said: What do you mean? She says, Well, you disappeared. You know, you guys were gone, and the rumor was that you hadn't died. So I imagined that. I mean, it's like this was literally I think when I ran into this woman, I think I was 55. So about 11 years ago. J: So I think that's just to say how the patterns of migration kind of have worked for me. We arrived. Again, we find a familiar that's identifiable. The language is Spanish. The food still has Spanish roots and even food that I recognize from because of the immigrants that lived there with us. There were a lot of people–women that took care of the children who looked out after us and fed us. And so it was not unusual. I mean, the food felt right. J: But the minute we moved to Overland Park, I didn't have that. I didn't have that neighborhood I could walk around to that or the neighbors that would feed us, the food that I was familiar with, and then the language stopped and the music was different–everything culturally boom. I always used the term “Arrested Development” used to be that show that was on because I think that was for me. J: It's like at nine years old, I had a pretty good sense of who I was. I can feel that I could–I kind of had a sense of where I stood in the world. The world that I knew as a nine year old. J: And then we arrived in this country and all of a sudden this movement is different. But there's still a semblance of where I kind of came from. Language was still Spanish. I still spoke it. But the minute we moved to Overland Park, the Spanish even stopped. My mother did not speak us often in Spanish with us made a point. The language started to disappear. Customs…the friendships disappeared. J: I didn't see–I think there was one family that was a very close family with good friends and my mother, so I would see their sons and stuff and their daughters. And over the years, I would stay in contact but never that whole core of the kids that I had played with and grown up with when we first came here. That was one that was developed. J: And then the second was we went to the suburbs. That was a totally different thing that I found new friends. And it was weird because I always felt that's where you start to get this feeling like you were the Other because I remember when we first went to that elementary school, the kids gathering around me. J: Now, it had happened when I went to the school in the West Side. They gathered around my brother and I, they were quizzing us asking us all these questions like, Oh, how do you say this in Spanish, somebody would translate. It was a weird thing. J: But then when we got to Overland Park, I'm by myself. My brother is not around. He's going to another school and these questions are being asked of me and by then, I speak, I understand. So I can translate some things. But sonically, everything is changing. The music is changing; the customs are changing. I don't know anybody. I literally I think–I lost that sense of community where the people next door, they know you so well, you better act right or they're going to tell your mother? I mean, there was that extended family type thing, I get to the suburbs, none of that. J: Hey, it was just an awkwardness, you know: there were not that many kids in the block. We were on the corner house that I recall. So my friends really were the ones that I was making in school. And some of those friends I stayed in contact with all the way through and up to high school. But– M: So were there no–were you the only Latinos when you moved to Overland Park? J: In that area where we were at, it sure felt like that. It totally did. As a matter of fact, I remember my mother had a job. Okay. Which was one of many jobs that she had when she was trying to get to make ends meet. And it was working at a doctor's office. And so sometimes she would drag my brother and I or my sister and make us go with her while she cleaned the night because, you know, there was well we had the community in the West Side that could look after us while my mother was working, we didn't when we moved out to the suburbs. J: We had my mother had friends, but they had to drive to come over. They wasn't like, Oh, go next door. I mean, we never had that kind of thing, or relationship with our neighbors. J: Culturally, most of the friends that we had were the friends that my mother had that could drive to where we were at and there were a lot of new members that actually began to move to the Johnson County. They came I propose, I suppose the migration was these were middle class families in South America. They were not all poor. And they were looking at aspirations to replicate some of that. J: And so they wanted to live where it was safer and that involved a lot of times moving away from community. J: And so the only community that you really had was I was dependent on my mother and her friends, but I was a kid. I was rebellious. My brother and I both were dealing with this idea of not understanding this relationship with mother and son because: that was our grandmother, right? J: And it was interesting because right before the next change took place, my mother–my grandmother came to visit and I was overjoyed, but I was also terrified of my grandmother. She was the disciplinarian par excellence, so she could inspire love and fear equally. But I remember I was old enough to understand that I had disappointed my grandmother tremendously. J: I was not that kid that she could with just one look and make me sit straight. I was now a kid that talked back and I think it broke her heart to see that. She had a miserable time visiting us. She broke her legs. She got stuck here. J: And then I never saw her again. J: And it kind of has impacted me a lot to think of the missed opportunities. But again, I was trying to deal with this authority that I didn't respect because I didn't know it, you know, you don't just walk into somebody's life and say I'm your mother. Boom. And understandably, you know, it led to a lot of problems. J: After my grandmother left, I think my mother realized my brother and I were getting into trouble. And she realized she had to do something. And with the assistance of Catholic charities, again, I remember we were presented with an option. You're going to go to a military school, think Wentworth Academy or something like that was said. J: And my brother and I had just read a book about Father Flanagan's Boys’ Home, we were trying to master our English. We had somebody that was would help us reading and point out, kind of tutor us. And we had read a story about Father Flanagan's Boys Home, and when we were proposed, you know, given the choice. We said, Oh, we want to go to this place. And Catholic Charity helped us get there, and my brother and I were shipped off to Boys Town in Omaha. J: And that was another culture shock because all of a sudden, I had been taken from Colombia, transplanted to a place that kind of mimicked the things we had left except the weather was horribly bad. I could never relate to. But there was community and then we got moved to the suburbs and all of a sudden, no community existed for us. J: Then my brother and I get pulled out and sent to Boys Town. Really the only community we had was our peers, even though there was structure of what do you call it? Was the counselors, there were the teachers. They were the seniors, they were the head of the house where you lived in or the school that you lived in there was these hierarchies. J: We were pretty much living as kids. J: I mean, my peers were the biggest influences on me in terms of the trouble I got into or the trouble I fomented. But I never really had a father figure at all in all of my life. J: What I did have though was great teachers. J: Education became something like really Important to me. I loved reading. I remember my grandmother used to read to me Prince Valiant. I always loved that illustrations in there because it was a beautiful almost like a story a narrative story every chapter. And I was so surprised when I came up here and you actually could see Prince Valiant and English serialized. So that kind of was a nice connection. J: So I had this idea of education as being something that I was not revolted by it. I loved learning. I was very precocious reader, too, and I remember at this point is when one of the biggest influences in my life started to appear, the teachers that I would have. J: I remember Mr. Boston was an English teacher in Boys Town. He had a very strong love for literature, poetry in particular. And I can still remember he was a frail man, frail like just not humongous, you know, I mean, when you were in Boys Town you were always judging yourself physically because, you know, sports was a big defining factor, and you had to defend yourself. J: But he was not that kind of–looked like he could catch you in a fight, you know, it'll be your backup in the fight. But he was very [unknown] I mean, the man, I can always remember him with a book in his had kind of walking around as he's lecturing us and he loved poetry and he introduced me and lost to poetry, and I just I think I fell in love with it. J: So he was a big encouragement for me. J: Particularly as he gave us some writing assignments. J: He loved what I did and we always make it a point to encourage me to do it. And that to me is kind of I remember also there was a school librarian there who, you know, loved the idea that I read. I mean, any kid that reads and goes into a library nowadays, and you've got friends for life. Those librarians, that joy that they have and what they do is just contagious to me. J: So that was where my education really started. I had access to a place where literally nothing was off limits to me. I would go into library shelves and find books. I probably should not have found that I didn't even understand. But in time, they became kind of a refuge. J: So school had it things, there were issues at Boys town. But I remember I did have an aspiration that I wanted to go to Notre Dame. J: My mother grandmother was very religious, Catholic. She had wanted a kid in her African family to be a priest. We had some family members from other lines of the family that were in the Church. So they always had the sense that I was not. I think I was for a moment, and then I grew up. J: But I always was intrigued by the idea of faith in a way, you know, this was a Catholic school. I mean, even though they were very respectful of all the religious traditions. We had Chapel, and you could have any service. It was a non-denominational service, and then there was the Catholic mass that we would go to most of us. J: But I really love that idea that you could have different faiths and they were I don't ever remember proselytizing that said, “Oh, you're Catholic, you know, those people who go to the service, “got to be careful that. J: There was never any kind of understanding. J: There was just this very you know, respectful way of what people have faith and it was never an issue. And I think that's one of the best things that I ever got out of boys stone is that I was never going to judge anybody by their faith or either think that mine was superior or think that theirs was lesser. It was just a matter of I'm going to say convenience, but it's just a matter of custom and culture. J: And I think for me, I excelled in that school, but I wanted to go to Notre Dame. That was one of the things that somehow the Irish [unknown] was a big legend. So and I played sports. So I wanted to go to Notre Dame. J: There was an opportunity that I had my last year I was in Boys Town to go to a summer camp at Notre Dame. And my teachers had encouraged me so my studies to do and apply and I applied and I got accepted. J: And I don't even remember what the thing was going to be. I was going to be there for the summer. J: And so I was so overjoyed. J: I told my My counselor told me to go tell Monsignor blah blah blah, because Monsignor was involved in all the extracurricular activities, and he informed me right then and there, he says, “You can't go.” I said, “Why not?” I couldn't understand. He said, “Well, we had some students that went last year, and they misrepresented themselves. They left a bad reputation, a bad image for the school. So we've decided to suspend the program in exchange for right now.” J: And I was mad. J: Because, you know, you kind of developed the sense of right and wrong. And that seemed to me very wrong to hold something that somebody else had done against me and not even give me the right or the chance to prove that that was an anomaly. That was not me. That was not my character. J: And I was told–I argued. I mean, I think not like screaming argument. I think I tried to use reason because I was being taught reason. But when they said, no, I just was disappointed. J: And I remember I got a chance to come back home that summer to visit family. We would get like leave. And I was not particularly missing my family, but I was missing some friends that I had made connections with when I was going to the elementary school and they started going progressing. And I ran into them and I was angry anyways for what had happened, and I insisted that I wanted to come back home. J: The saddest thing about that is that my brother and I who had been inseparable since we were in Colombia, we got separated because my brother didn't want to come back here. He wanted to stay in Boys Town and I was wanting to come back here. J: So I did and my brother and I went separate ways, probably the biggest tragedy in my life, I think. J: But that kind of led to all these other troubles [chuckles]. J: High school was fun and tough. I mean, I got into a lot of trouble list to say, but I think that's really the foundational story for me is this idea that when you migrate, it never really stops. There's always these kinds of places where you begin to feel like you're getting your footing and always something else must happen, and then something else must happen. And each time you just feel this untethered sense. J: And I remember hearing the expression neither from here nor there. Because from there, you're not accepted because you've left, you've kind of disappeared. You don't even speak the language the right way anymore. And then from here, it's a tenuous thing. This is where you stand. But you know that often you have more questions because the promise of something is not the actual thing that is. J: And for me, that was political–the politics of the time and the era. The end of the 60s were very formative for me. I could see it on television and the [coughs and wipes nose] the excuse me, the assassinations, the Civil Rights. J: And that's where I began to connect things, reading about the struggling of civil rights movements and seeing Mississippi and then remembering that thing about Jackson and my father. That was my first introduction. To revelations to me. J: And a lot of them were questioning. I mean, that led to a lot of questions about what the system is like, what this society is because it promises so much. J: And you know we had to study a little bit of citizenship because we were going to become US citizens, swear the oath. And that's where the kind of dichotomies begin to present themselves. J: So like I remember they canceled the draft. And it was like ’72, I think, when I was presented with this idea that you had to go register. Not necessarily that you were going to be drafted by that point, Vietnam was kind of winding down and the idea of actively recruiting and getting more people in there drafting that was just like American people just weren't going for that anymore. J: But I remember you still have to go register and a lot of my friends weren't registering, and I thought, you know, I was indoctrinated by you, I had to go and swear an oath of allegiance to this country literally to become a citizen and study about the laws and the history. J: So I did that and then the first task that is we have to register. I wouldn't registered. I just thought, well, that's your duty. That's what you do, you know? J: Even having questions about the systems and seeing how things were not working or had to be fought for. J: I just didn't, you know, I just sore. I just swore I would so I wouldn't register and my friends didn't and it didn't mean anything, really, you know. But I thought it was like, my first real understanding of the rights and duties of citizenship to nation fealty. J: And I think in some ways, I passed and failed the test [laughs again]. I signed up, but I think there was a part of me that was questioning whether it was even right to do, but I had just made it sworn so I did it. J: And then I got into trouble in high school. And I got expulsed. My–My inquisitiveness though was always there. I always read. You know, I figured out you can always get a great education. But there was something that bothered me in our family. I think most of us went to school. It was not I think it was in our blood. I mean, you went to higher learning. You studied. There was nothing fearful about that and I loved learning. J: And so here I am working and doing these jobs. But I'm not going to school anymore. J: And then I think the most significant thing that happened in my life happened one summer. I started taking classes at Johnson County Community College, and I was working and I was at Oak Park Mall, if I remember. And a lady called out my name and I turned around. It was Mrs. Brown, she was my high school counselor at Shawnee Mission North. She she had always taken an interest in me. She would see me on the whole. J: She would just stop me and ask me what was going on even though she knew what was going on with me. She always showed care and I would always follow up. And she stopped me and she said, “What are you doing now?” And I told her, “Well, I've started going back to school. I'm taking classes at JuCo” And she said, “You know, you only needed one credit to graduate. You could have graduated your junior year.” I was in the college prep program, but I was getting in trouble. I wasn't paying attention. J: And she said, “You could have graduated.” And she asked me what class I was taking, what classes I was taking and at that time, I wanted to be a political science majors. I was taking some government classes. I was taking US National government in history. And she stopped right there, says, “The minute you get done with that class and you get your grade, you send it to me because that's the credit you need to graduate. And if you send it to me, I'll make sure that you get your diploma” J: And I was shocked, honestly. I was totally shocked but I didn't understand why I was so grateful that she said this and realized and kind of, I get a second chance to get my diploma. J: And I do remember that it meant something because when I got kicked out of high school, I wrote a letter to the vice principal at that time. I can't remember the guy's name. It was a two, three page-letter handwritten thing condemning their actions and calling out this idea of, you know, separating us instead of trying to deal with the issues, you know, kind of this Oh, you’re hippies, all this stuff you're discussing blah, blah, blah. I was trying to say I still believed in school spirit and all that, I still follow the football team, I played football stupid stuff. J: But that she remembered me: that she remembered exactly what I needed to, what I needed to graduate astounds me to this day that somebody could care that much, and that I could be so indifferent to it and not realize it affected affects me all the time. J: People who have done random acts of kindness of interest. J: To me, I think the biggest inspirations I have. People have given me so much. I think in Mrs. Brown's Honor, I give back. That's really my only spiritual thing, I think when it comes to the nature of being engaged or involved. J: It's because people in my life have taken opportunities and interestingly enough, they've been librarians and teachers. Those are my heroes. But anyways, when she told me that I finished that semester, got my grades, I sent them to her, and I sent me a letter. I got a letter a few months later that said I got my diploma, but I never opened I think–I still–I know I have it somewhere. J: I've tried to say things, but I just decided I was never going to open the official letter that said that I got my diploma. J: The good thing was that it wasn't needed for me to enroll in college at that time. So it worked out great for me. J: But I think that's really it in terms of I think by this point I'm in my 20s. I take a summer job because I'm really tired of taking out student loans. The job that I get takes me to a law firm where I stayed at for 15 years. J: I don't regret any of it. J: Some would say probably wasted my time. I should have been doing art all a long. That was what I went to school for. J: But at a certain point after 15 years, I just thought that's not really what I want to do. I'm not going to be a lawyer. I'm not a lawyer. I have no interested in that not interested in it at all. But I was drawing and I was writing, and I just said, you know, I'm done I took my retirement that I had built up my 401(k) cashed it in, paid off the lived off the remainder for about three years until I could feel that whatever was coming I was prepared for and that was the career in the arts in some way or other. J: I started working in community, which was just a natural thing I'd already done some of that. J: So that was it. J: That's my formative journey now. J: It's been going through so many different iterations of, you know…I can say I did the corporate thing, not for me. I can say I had the troubled life, not for me. I can say I've lived in different places: that's good. Very rounded experience. J: I made a hell of a lot of mistakes and I've got a lot of opportunities. So I think that's the best part I can say. M: Thank you so much for sharing that. That's a really incredible story. I'm really struck by the emphasis you put on the educators who took an interest in you even long after the fact. And I've gotten that from a couple of interviews from a few interviews, do people who say, the teachers or the librarians or, you know, I had a made such a difference. J: Yeah…a librarian, I may turn on–I mean, really feel my love of poetry because I was reading I can't remember exactly what book, but she noticed it and she says, Oh, have you ever read this? She turned me on to the Cano Monte Cristo, which led to The Three Musketeers. I've read all of the works of Alexandre Dumas. Sure. J: And then she introduced me to Homer, before I even took it in class, I had read the lid and the artist then she told me about the Aeneid. These were all books that I could get there in the public system, right? And they were they weren't like easy readers. These were good books. I did not know many of the words I was reading, but you know what the stories came through. J: And yeah, for me, they were formative in so many ways. J: And then I think this whole spirit of what a library means, right? Is a repository. Knowledge is available to you: just come in, give them a card, they give you the book. Yeah, you'll forget it. They're already forgiving. Hey, just pay a fine, and you can have more books, even while you're paying the fine. J: Very egalitarian. J: It never demands much of me. J: Libraries were the best gift I think that you could have. J: Especially like I've gone to South America and other countries. I've been in some schools where they have little libraries, and they are so bereft of material. And to know the abundance that a library has here, like,-- M: Ummm….I wonder if….I have a couple of follow up questions related to my own interests. And one is, I'm really struck by the fact that you said when you're an immigrant, you never really stop. M: And one of the ideas I've kind of been playing around with is, you know, as you know, I'm really interested in issues of place and how we make places our own. But I'm also interested in if the route metaphorical and literal becomes its own kind of place, like if you're always traveling the route. And I wonder what you think about that? J: Oh, I think it's totally appropriate. It's a good description. I think of the feelings I have is because the root is always looking for a place to sink to establish so it gets the nourishment that it was, but when it's constantly being uprooted, then it realizes what the perfect soils are, right? J: So to me, I mean, I am, I hate the word because it's so tied to one place, American. J: But I am American in the truest sense of America. J: I mean, I know it from its tip to its farest boundary because I still haven't gone to Alaska. But I know it from a long progression and I see most of the states in this country and eventually we'll visit most of the states in the countries in South America. J: But I've always felt–I'll give you the best example. But the first time I went to South America, I had a chance to go to Chile. And we're coming–I'm on a plane. I don't know, you know, the way planes the routes are, I had to take the plane from San Francisco, go to Canada, take Air Canada back or Air France, actually, down to Peru, then down to Argentina. I was going to visit Uncle in Argentina, but I remember–no in Chile when first time I went there–before I visited my uncle. I went to Chile in ’88. And I remember it was earlier than that. J: But I do remember. The one thing I do remember is I'm looking out the window. We're coming out over the ocean and we hit the Peruvian Coast. And immediately, I had this incredible feeling. I mean, I can't even describe it, but it's like all of a sudden, I felt this vibration, like I was where I was supposed to be. J: I totally–As I looked at these houses that lined along the beach because you're coming off the ocean. And you see the structures, and you see the houses and the inner courtyard, and then you see the back and then the other house that's usually for the staff or the help that is there. J: I recognized the house that grew immediately. I, Oh, my God that reminds me of the house in Colombia, that reminds me of my aunt's house. And the minute I felt that I felt this incredible surge of emotion. J: I could I could tell my blood pressure was just increasing, my heart was beating fast. I'm sweating. And in my head, I'm hearing and seeing. I'm hearing music. I'm seeing colors and I'm tasting food I've not eaten. Since the West Side, literally. J: There was just this rush of incredible sensory overload and that just like a crime. And I made sure nobody could see me. I was like hugging that window. J: And because I think I understood at that point I was coming home, you know what I mean? Even though I was not going to Colombia, I was culturally in a home that I had never left. And that feeling, you know, it's weird. J: I have felt that feeling when I've been in rural areas in other countries that are not the main cities. I was in Crete one time and we were driving around the mountains going from village to village. And I remember just having this sense of the topography of the people, the things that happened in rural areas immediately I recognize among I'm just feeling these incredible sensory experiences, and I've always felt those. J: I felt them here [in the U.S.]. J: First time I went to Oregon and Washington State, being in rural communities, feeling kind of like, it's just a different vibe, you know, culturally, too, right? But I think I'm being more perceptive or reactive to those differences that exist between an urban and a rural things kind of where the roots belong. J: But yeah, no, I totally believe that the roots are very much tangible things. They're always looking to plant. I mean, if we look at a plant, taking from its natural environment. If the roots are still there, they're going to look for a place to land. J: And so yeah, I think that's the journey of an immigrant. I have always felt like my roots are malleable. They can they can find nourishment wherever they can land. J: And I think that's the gift of being an immigrant. J: But it's also the vein because you realize you do live multicultures, and sometimes that's kind of a schizophrenic way to live [chuckles]. M: I sometimes wonder if, you know, and I guess it depends on particular immigrant experiences, but it seems like sometimes immigrants just live en route. Like they're always en route [laughs]. J: Yeah. Like coming and going and trying to find a place to sink in? M: Yeah. Yeah. This kind of relates or the memory that you described of flying over Peru relates to my second question, which is, I don't know how many Colombians there are in Kansas City, but I imagine that there are other–that you're outnumbered, as I am as a Cuban by other Latino groups. J: Yeah. M: Did you find like–Can you talk about that a little bit? Was it hard to make community with Latinos from other countries or Did you feel that there was really something in common? J: It's a difficult question only in the sense that it just brings up a dichotomy. J: So I remember we were all lumped as being Mexican. So it was, you're Mexican. You're Mexican. We're Mexican. And I remember I remember distinctly one point, getting so fricking mad I yelled at offend and said, “I am not f***ing Mexican; I am Colombian.” J: And it really bothered me that I was so angry about the way I put it out. And I thought to myself, I've been so far removed from Colombia, it probably happened in my early 20s, and I said the way with which I said it or kind of put aside this notion would be Mexican. J: I thought why was that so angry? Is it so bad to be Mexican and I realized that there was kind of a racial component to my reaction. J: My mother used to, you know, bless her heart, but she did have this kind of superiority that she looked down on other people. I mean, Mexicans, you know, middle class up just, you know, have to acknowledge that. J: But yeah, I felt a very distinct–you know, I had to have a separation that people understood. Especially when there weren't the town of Mex–Colombians that I knew, but I was always constantly around mexicanos. I was living close to the West Side. J: I worked on the West Side after a while. I've had a lot of interactions on the west side. So yeah, my community kind of in Mexican. And we started painting murals, we went down to Mexico and painted murals. J: And the interesting thing and they don't talk about much, but I had a DNA test. And to kind of filter these things out. Only to find out that I'm 10% Mexican [long chuckle]. You know, 60% of someone indigenous Latin American, Colombian, Peruvian and 10% Mexican. I'm going, how the hell that, you know. J: I remember when we were painting murals, a friend of mine down there because we went down there three times. He said, you're an honorary Mexican. I can now say, Well, you know, by DNA. I guess I am. J: But that's kind of like the joke is on me. J: You know what I mean? Kind of. This notion that you can separate distinctly by what's national as opposed to what's cultural. J: And so no, It's been a long process, and I know a lot of immigrants that deal with that, you know, they very much want to honor where they came from. And sometimes it sounds like you're being dismissive of the others, you know, you within your own. J: And I've seen it too with like how African Americans sometimes can look down on very black Africans, Africans, you know. J: But I've also seen it too within my own community, you know, the darker you are, depending on, you know, then there's the same trajectories, the same misconceptions. M: So yeah. Okay. Thank you so much. This was such a rich interview. You're such a fascinating person and I just love all the forms of art and community work that you've done. M: I have never been to Columbia, but I'm going to Bogotá in June. J: Be prepared. It's enchanting as hell, but it's depressing as not. J: I mean, I had not been back. I think I told you I went earlier this year was the first time I've been back since I left. And everything felt exactly the same way it was and everything felt exactly like different than what it was. M: [nods in agreement]. J: You know, this country. But yeah, it's beautiful, but the poverty and the corruption, they're just there. You should see it but it's a beautiful country. M: It's painful to go back to Cuba, too, for some of those reasons. J: Yeah. Yeah. M: Anyway, this was just such a pleasure. Thank you so much for agreeing to both my interviews. J: No problem. Thank you. M: I will send you the links when you're up on the website so that you can take a look. J: All right. Well, thank you so much. M: Thanks, José. Have a great holiday. J: You too. M: Bye bye. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource José Subject The topic of the resource Oral history from Colombia to Kansas City, Kansas Description An account of the resource José Faus is a celebrated Latino poet, writer, and muralist originally from Bucaramanga, Colombia. In this interview, he shares what it means to be an immigrant, his various interactions with several Latino and non-Latino communities, and stories about some of the wonderful educators and librarians who supported and encouraged him as a person and artist/creative. Lastly, he also speaks about what it means to make a place your own. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <iframe width="400" height="285" id="kmsembed-1_xtzm7fal" src="https://mediahub.ku.edu/embed/secure/iframe/entryId/1_xtzm7fal/uiConfId/45147491/st/0" class="kmsembed" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" allow="autoplay *; fullscreen *; encrypted-media *" referrerpolicy="no-referrer-when-downgrade" sandbox="allow-downloads allow-forms allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation allow-pointer-lock allow-popups allow-modals allow-orientation-lock allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-presentation allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" frameborder="0" title="Heartland_José TRIMMED"></iframe> Colombia Discrimination Education Identity Kansas City