I sometimes swim with the conservatives.  Because of this I get mail from time to time on the subject of Spanish speakers in our society. I will use “Spanish speakers” as a collective term since there are so many subgroups. I hear stuff like “they don’t want to learn English”; “they swell welfare rolls”; “they commit crime out of proportion to their numbers”; “they have more accidents” and so on.  You probably know some more.

I can’t speak to the complete facts on any of this.  I have lived on the border and had up close and personal experience with “Tejano” dentists, policemen, teachers and fellow students. This was in the late 50’s before it was so common to see Spanish speakers in the South-Eastern part of the country. The single individual who enjoyed speaking English more than anyone I ever met was Mr. Barrera, my English teacher in 10th grade. He was a Notre Dame graduate who seemed to roll the words around and get all the juice there was.  He could have been tasting wine.  I know Spanish was spoken on this continent before English. I feel like all the Spanish speakers I have met who came here did so to take care of their family, just like our European ancestors.

They have won all the medals we award, maybe out of proportion to their numbers.

I know that in the early days of WWII a young man named Guadalupe Rocha crossed the border near Laredo, Texas. When he enlisted in the Army no one questioned his intentions.  He had a knack for electronics and was assigned to the Air Corps. He eventually stayed around after the Air Corps became the USAF. He was successful and retired.

Before I forget, early in this process he married my mother’s sister and became my Uncle Johnny. This was responsible for three terrific brown cousins who didn’t speak Spanish.