Saturday, March 8, 2008

Life on the Border

As an Anglo-American who has grown up on the border between the United States and Mexico, I have always been exposed to Mexican culture in some way or another. Perhaps I this explains why I found myself drawn to Gloria Anzaldua's "Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza." I experienced a sense of familiarity as I digested her bilingual text about inclusivity and the need to cast off the shame associated with being "mestiza," or of mixed race. Anzaldua's work reflects the new emphasis in literary theory on cultural studies.

One passage of her work, "Somos Una Gente," spoke to me because it expresses what Anzaldua desires of Anglo-Americans. She writes, "We need you to accept the fact that Chicanos are different, to acknowledge your rejection and negation of us. We need you to own the fact that you looked upon us as less than human, that you stole our lands, our personhood, our self-respect. We need you to make public restitution: to say that, to compensate for your own sense of defectiveness, you strive for power over us . . . . To say that you are afraid of us, that to put distance between us, you wear the mask of contempt. Admit that Mexico is your double, that she exists in the shadow of this country, that we are irrevocably tied to her."

Anzaldua's words of accusation and her call for public restitution do not surprise me (or even anger me) because I have heard similar things during the course of my college education. My interdisciplinary Pluralism course has pointed out that, in regards to reconciliation and the end of racism, white Americans tend to view the individual's decisions as sufficient whereas minorities generally see the need for larger structural changes. Anzaldua's work reflects this pattern because she speaks to the Anglo-American population and accuses the larger population (which is composed of individuals) of committing crimes against the Mexican people.

I also illustrate the pattern in my disagreement: Did I personally steal Mexican land? No. Did I commit brutal acts? No. Do I project my own sense of defectiveness on Mexican-Americans? I hope not. I cannot be held responsible for the regrettable decisions of those who held power long before I entered this world and for those who continue to promote racism. However, if an authentic apology for the acts and attitudes of my ancestors and for those who continue to promote white supremacy will bring about reconciliation, then I would support it.

I appreciate Anzaldua's statement about the need for multiracial collaboration. She says, "I think we need to allow whites to be our allies." This differs from more radical minority groups, such as La Raza or the Black Panthers, who want to eliminate "the Caucasian demon." I see Anzaldua's vision as more realistic, more feasible, because it wishes healing for both groups. Anzaldua's accusations of Anglo society's projection of its own negative qualities on the Mexican hurts, but she argues that "by taking back the collective shadow, the intracultural split will heal." In other words, she seems to say, "The truth hurts, but it will help you in the end." Whether or not I entirely agree with her, I respect her intentions.

1 comment:

Liz said...

Do you think we need to be more collectivist? I know the idea can go too far and I'd much rather lean toward individualism than collectivism. But I think what a lot of individuals lack (and do not necessarily need to lack, but generally do) is a sense of /need/. While in the end, we cannot escape from the fact that all our rationalization happens in our own heads, thus making us individuals by default, I think a lot of Americans forget how much we need others--their thoughts, experiences, opinions, feelings, ect--to have a richer picture (but by no means complete) of the world in our minds.

Being white is weird. You never know how bad or responsible you're supposed to feel. Most of us excuse ourselves. But I always want to keep tabs on my attitude. As most of us do. And then it's like, "oh, I have to be extra careful...but I don't want to be so careful that I look racist..." It's not without its ironies and amusingness.