Ghost From Writings Past

I wrote this back in 2006 on the anniversary of my mother's passing. I post it again today for two reasons: I felt I wanted to read it anew and this blog represents a fruition of this little piece. The last line "No one escapes the sweep of history" set a course for the way I understand history, not as a discipline but as a phenomenon of life; as a thing beyond us and from which we cannot escape (except through death of course). In this sense, one could almost use life and history interchangeably.

"...death is a part of life it's something we're all destined to do" -Ms. Gump

Have you ever asked yourself "how will I survive" after thus and such? The actual dynamic of your own experience is relative, of course, but the question is what's important, especially in the context of the loved one gone forever. In anticipation of a life-wrenching event we most always (at least I do) assume we'll either lose our mind or come eerily close to it. But I've come to learn that we humans have phenomenal capacity; that what we often see as insurmountable, in the end, turns out to be our greatest achievement and reason for renewing and becoming.

Six years ago I posed myself that question and not to my surprise my answer was "I can't." Well, here I am and of course I could! It's like in the bible when someone is blessed with the occasion of meeting God. The inevitable result is a different person with a new name and a new physical price to pay, like Jacob (now Israel) who limped ever after. Many are on this side of that occasion and many, like myself, were cast headlong over the event-horizon into that most bitter black hole. As often happens, profound beauty is tempered with the base alloy of tragedy and for me the phrase life goes on fits well within this precept. Life went on without her and still life pushes on with or without us. The best thing I have found to make the emptiness bearable is the radiance and immutability of memory for it is this that makes immortality possible. I must not douse the flame of her memory with the ocean of my sadness. No one escapes the sweep of history!

"In [my] stream of consciousness there's a river crying...You took away my hero will you take away my pain?...I'll carry on the best that I can without you here beside me" JP

Tom's Bumper Sticker Idea

I'm taking this over from one of my favorite blogs *The Musings of Thomas Verenna* (whose link you'll find to the right) because I think it's a great idea and I have his permission to do so! He writes,

I think that people should get bumper stickers for being wrong about things to brighten the mood a little. “I backed the wrong horse” will do fine. You can personalize it too: “I Backed the Wrong Horse: The World Will End in 2000″ or “I Backed the Wrong Horse: I Voted for Bush.”

Be fruitful and multiply O grand idea!

EAIII

The Road Ahead

It is an interesting experience to be sure. I had always figured to write a blog one must read a blog. And so before venturing into this, my first blog, I took it upon myself to see what was out there. Invariably, I came across many blogs that I thoroughly enjoyed only to find at reading's end that the last post was from a year ago! Time and again I have come across this experience and been left feeling shorted. Because, again, I enjoyed the writing.

My point is, it has been a month since my last post and it bothers me that one may have an experience, such as I have had on occasion, on my very own blog. Suffice it to say that because I've not written doesn't mean I'm not thinking about writing. And so, I wanted to update readers of this blog about various themes that have piqued my interest; themes that will constitute my blog posts for the coming months.

I've mentioned before that my primary reading experience has been within Christian origins, New Test. literature and so-called 2nd Temple Judaism. Obviously, the literature surrounding this subject has had a long history and is quite vast. So currently there is a lot of situation work being done; that is, trying to situate what we've learned in the last fifty years within the overall history of the field (i.e. relationship between newly translated texts like the Dead Sea scrolls or those found at Nag Hammadi and Christian origins, etc). It seems to me that kind of epistemology, as it were, is difficult to set aside. So as I turn to look at South Texas history, I can only conclude that my views are colored by this experience.

Theme I

Tejano historiography has had a generative period. Although it is but a slice of overall Chicano history, it has proved as formidable as any. Writers like Carlos E. Castaneda, Jovita Gonzalez, Felix D. Almaraz, Jr., Andres Tijerina, David Montejano and Jesus F. de la Teja (to name but a few) have set the foundation for all future work. They answered the call to establish the story of the Mexicans of Texas. Naturally, they set about articulating the roots from which the Tejanos grew. We can thank Drs. Castaneda and Tijerina (among others) for establishing clearly the Mexican aspect of Texas, that aspect of "change" that "the Anlgo-American underwent by the nineteenth century" for which "neither the plains nor the frontier could fully account." (Tijerina, 1994)

Chronicling, as it were, the Tejano emergence necessarily led to a focus on "the Tejano experience." This led to a full accounting of "Anglo attitudes toward Mexicans" in any given era of Texas history. Works by D. Montejano (Anglos & Mexicans in the Making of Texas) and A. De Leon (They Called Them Greasers) focused on shedding light on the issues. Additionally, providing a nuanced look into Tejano culture was a common concern. It seems to me that this remains the current situation: Seeking to solidify Tejano history and identity and desiring to bring the national civil rights movement to bare on the experiences of Mexicans in Texas with writings focused on racial and gender issues, particularly, but also with wider civil rights movements in mind.

So what's next? How does establishing our legitimate roots in Texas, chronicling racism and sexism, economic discrimination, political oppression and responses to that (LULAC, LA RAZA et al) inform our progression into the future? What does it mean to have successfully deconstructed a myth (Anglo superiority) and thereby construct a plausible future? Quite rightly, some have sought to transform the political process; by integrating what we know with what we do. As Montejano argues, racism becomes Racism when it is enacted by public policy. And so perhaps there is where we should focus our energies, as many have, on repairing, as it were, policy in education, health care, etc. This has been a long process, with failures, but many many successes as well.

Theme II

From the beginning I wanted to focus on Kingsville history because, although there are works available, most of it is wholly centered on the KR and its families and legacy. There is something inherently right and useful about this, after all, works on the Kings and Klebergs are essential to our history. But I would like to emphasize that although Kingsville began with the KR it does not end with it. Rarely do the structures look like the foundations on which they are built. It is with that understanding in mind that I wish to contribute my writings.

So for example, literature on Kingsville has still do deal with what Montejano calls the "geography of race," that spacial demarcation that separated Anglo, Mexican and African Americans. Railroads may have been the hallmark of progress for many but for many more still it was an iron sign of the times. And although there has been a good measure of intergration among the Anglo/Hispanic community, it is clear the legacy haunts us still.
There is also the broad ethnic mix unique to a South Texas town because of TAMUK: among others, from China, India and Pakistan. Do they live in a vacuum? Surely not! One need only look at the business sector to see their impact. How do they impact the social complexion of this city? I'm not absolutely sure but it seems a rather unique situation for a small Texas town; one that has an immense potential to explore.

As you can tell this is situation type work on a personal level! I look forward to exploring these issues in the context of my rubric "existentialism, modernity and the sweep of history." It seems to me that these three experiences are at the very core of humanity. So as we thrust forth into a new millenium where does Kingsville or Texas and the literature that surrounds them fit into the globalism of our time? Do we simply fall into the general pattern taken by all borderland civilizations that live next to a marketable river; that is to say a pattern of conquest and accomodation (Egypt and the Nile, Rome and the Tiber, England and the Thames so, therefore, Texas and the Rio Grande?) or are we a unique set of traditions from a very specific historical and cultural lineage that must deal with rapidly changing times in a search for self-determination? It's a little of both; something every one of our ancestors lived through and endured.

One who just sighed,

EAIII

The Distant Voice of my Mother

A most vivid memory I have of childhood are two bedtime poems my mother would sing to me. They are very short, only a few lines each, but along with the Our Father, these are the words I'd hear as I drifted into sleep.

ALLA ESTA LA LUNA

COMIENDO SU TUNA

TIRANDO LAS CASCARAS

EN UNA LAGUNA

This was more of a spoken poem but it had a definite melody to it.
In terms of form, it's a basic AABA rhyming pattern (i.e. Luna-Tuna-Cascaras-Laguna). The melody and cadence were accentuated by use of the elongated "U" (i.e. Luuuna-Tuuuna...Laguuuna) So it would sound like this:

ALLA ESTA LA LUUUNA

COMIENDO SU TUUUNA

TIRANDO LAS CASCARAS

EN UNA LAGUUUNA

To clarify, the word tuna refers to the bright red fruit that a nopal produces.

The other was more of a melodic jingle. It is more upbeat and jovial and I would consider it to be more kid friendly. The lyrics are as follows:

QUIEN ES EL QUE ANDO AQUI?

FUE CRI-CRI, FUE CRI-CRI.

Y QUIEN ES ESE SENIOR?

EL GRIO CANTOR!

The use of "cri-cri" is a reference to the song of a cricket. Merely reading the words gives a sense of the melody of the jingle. Incidentally, this was my first encounter with odd musical phrasing. The very last line "el grio cantor" is a stark triplet feel that abruptly breaks the 2/4 cadence of the jingle.

I don't know the origin of these song/poems. I imagine they are connected with ranch life as their spacial focus is nature, i.e the moon and the crickets. But that is pure speculation. I once received an email about them. The details of this person are lost to me now, as this was a few years ago, but she wrote to me and asked me about these songs. She too had grown up with them and had not heard them since childhood!

Headless Chickens and the Process of Change

It's like math. When holidays are celebrated, nostalgia for things past is necessarily a part. It usually takes the form of stories of a relative, usually deceased, and how they used to do it. This year was no different. I was reminded of a time when my mom would house and kill chickens. No joke. I suppose one conjures this being done on a ranch or at least a large acre of land, no! This was urban fowl butchery, or as urban as Kingsville can get.

It was when we lived on Warren street and we had a garage. On this occasion my mother acquired about 8 or 10 chickens which she kept there. The process by which she killed them is what makes the story so infamous. She would take hold of the unfortunate hen, grab a firm hold of its neck and proceed to violently twist and turn the body until the head ripped off. The bird would then run wildly and chaotically around the yard until, finally, the thing would collapse onto the ground; nerves still twitching from raging against the dying of its delicious light. Needless to say, us kids were amazed (disgusted?). It was the closest thing to ranch life that I had experienced. There even arose a legend among us, that with the blood dripping from the severed head, my mom would make a cross on the ground; and it is there that the chicken would finally rest.

She would then proceeded to pull the feathers off and cook the bird accordingly, usually for "Noodles." (a kind of chicken-n-dumplings but with long strands of noodle-think tagliatelle. Very popular in my family.)
This type of thing didn't happen often and this was one particularly memorable occasion (and there may have been more, like the time a pig was gutted, again, in our garage-different house. but that's another story). I now realize that it was the last vestiges of ranch life, preserved in my mother but lost to me and my siblings. It is almost inconceivable that any of us would go through this process. Even if we wanted "freshly killed" chicken, we would likely find other means of getting it. It is indicative of changing times; from rural to urban living, from ranch life to city life. Put sociologically, a time of acculturation.

The process of change is nothing new. Focusing on South Texas, one can see the process of change quite clearly. If we were to apply a generic periodization scheme (a fancy term historians use to place things into understandable chunks of time, i.e. Reconstruction, Dark Ages etc) we see that the indigenous period gave way to a colonial period which gave way to an autonomous republic which, ultimately, gave way to statehood into the "American colossus."

It is one thing to acknowledge (even understand) broad historical change and quite another thing to see it worked out in our daily lives. It's a reminder that not all change is sweeping and chaotic. Most changes in life takes place even beyond our awareness, while we're busy living. It is the small incremental changes that have the most lasting effect for our lives; changes as a result of decisions made and behaviours unlearned, like our willingness to remember an event such as the headless chickens running about our yard but not our willingness to practice it.

I end with a quote from Matteo Ricci (1552-1610), that Jesuit historian who opened China for us Westerners, because I think it is appropriate to the topic at hand. It reminds us that we make and change history on a daily basis!

It often happens that those who live at a later time are unable to grasp the point at which the great undertakings or actions of this world had their origin. And I, constantly seeking the reasons for this phenomenon, could find no answer than this, namely that all things (including those that at last come to triumph mightily) are at their beginnings so small and faint in outline that one cannot easily convince oneself that from them will grow matters of great moment -Historia, Fonti Ricciane

Heritage Rekindled

March has become more meaningful. In 1836 the Mexican army under its most infamous caudillo, Santa Anna, came to Texas to put down Anglo-Texian rebellion. With an iron fist Mexico routed the defenders of the Alamo leaving few to tell the tale. Then, Santa Anna's eye turned toward Goliad where Col. Fannin and his men were between a jagged rock, a crown of thorns, and an unyielding hard place: answer Col. Travis' desperate plea for assistance, stay and defend Goliad against the coming storm or follow Houston's orders: raze the presidio and return to Gonzalez.

What to do? what to do?

Fannin chose the latter. They didn't get far, just a few miles, when they were met by Gen. Urrea and his men. Goliad is not famous for its battle (at Coleto Creek) but for the massacre that came after. Under Santa Anna's orders the rebels, every one of them, were to be given "no quarter" that is, executed. Many were either gunned down or killed with the bayonet. Col. Fannin himself was shot sitting down as he was too wounded to stand. Thus emerged the most famous battle cry in Texas: "Remember the Alamo!...Remember Goliad!"

I learned at our first annual Alvarez family reunion some years ago that I am a 6th generation descendant of participants in the Goliad campaign. In other words, my grandfather's grandfather's mother, Panchita, was remembered by a few of the survivors of the massacre. From them, we learn that she helped the wounded and aided those that would eventually escape execution; this in defiance of direct orders of Santa Anna.

From them and subsequent research, we learn she came to Texas with a Capt. Telesforo Alavez (as a mistress essentially). He had come to Texas from Toluca in Central Mexico, where he was married to a prominent local woman, under Gen. Jose Urrea very early in 1836. I tend to think he got her along the way through Matamoros, as in those days (even now!) Mexican men kidnapped women from the various small ranchitos. After his Texas duties had ended, she and Capt. Alavez traveled back to Mexico where he abandoned her ( in Matamoros?). Thereafter, presumably, he returned to Toluca. It is here that she disappears from the historical record for ever.

Many years later in a 1930's newspaper interview, Mrs. O'Shea tells this story of her time teaching on the King Ranch (1901-02). Often after the days work, one Matias Alvarez, an illiterate ranch-hand at the Santa Gertrudes Div. of the King Ranch (among others), would gather to hear the days news and/or educational books read to them. While hearing about the events surrounding the Goliad battle, Matias inquired whether there is mentioned in the textbook a Mexican woman who helped the Anglo-Texians? "No" Mrs.O'Shea answered. He proceeded to tell her that he is the son of Telesforo and Panchita Alavez, that in fact his mother was there at the Goliad massacre and helped as she could the Anglos and other wounded. Mrs. O'Shea relates that she met the "Angel of Goliad" who was already in her 90's at the time. After her death, it is said that she was buried "somewhere on the King Ranch in an unmarked grave"

I realize, of course, the Alavez-Alvarez incongruence . The few primary sources we have, survivor journals and memoirs, call her by different names: Francisca or Panchita Alavez, Alvarez and Alevesco. I tend toward the view that few Anglos knew or cared to know how to correctly spell or pronounce Mexican surnames. And, in any case, these memoirs and journals coming as they were many years later, I don't have a problem with the confusion. I don't imagine spelling was so important in that monumental struggle to survive. Somewhere along the way, through a phenomenon of philology, Alavez became Alvarez.

Guardamos las memorias de su pasado que podriamos rescatar--Viva Panchita Alvarez!




**Special Thanks to Reynaldo G., Rudy (Ramirez) and Gilbert Alvarez for their tireless efforts to bring Panchita Alavez to the fore of Texas history**

Montejano's New Book

I can't wait for this to come out. I'm a fan of his work. His Anglos & Mexicans in the Making of Texas has been influencial in my understanding of S.TX history.

This is from the UC Berkeley Ethnic Studies Dept. site:



In the mid-sixties, San Antonio was a segregated city governed by an entrenched Anglo social and business elite. The Mexican American barrios of the West and South sides were characterized by substandard housing and experienced seasonal flooding. Gang warfare broke out regularly. Then the striking farm workers of South Texas marched through the City and set off a social movement that transformed the barrios and ultimately brought down the old Anglo oligarchy. In Quixote's Soldiers, David Montejano uses a unique blend of history and sociology to present a thick description of this social movement.

--Abstract of Quixote's Soldiers: A Local History of the Chicano Movement, 1966-1981 (University of Texas Press, forthcoming 2010)