Mi estimada colega Jessie:
por última vez, mucho gusto y te mando muchos saludos de mi parte y para tu familia.
I'm sorry that I cut you off so early the last time, but there was really no other choice. A lady was coming by to drop of a dress she needed hemmed, and she left me an invitation for a social event.
If you remember the last time I wrote to you, I told you that I received 15,000 from IBP because of the injury I received on the job. I convinced my husband to move back to Texas so that we could be close to family and friends there.
We currently live about an hour north of Houston, in East Texas where it is full of trees. Although my husband preferred Nebraska because they paid better, I remember a few horrible nights during the tornado seasons, and i do not regret moving to Texas at all.
So I bet you're wondering what I did with the money? We rented a little house, and my husband began working at a poultry plant nearby called Pilgrim's Pride. Jessie, I hav to tell you that the treatment of people at that plant had to have been worse than even the stories I heard about México. With the money we had left over, we saved it and only my husband worked while I would stay home and take care of my three boys.(The youngest was born in Iowa). I would take up small jobs while they were in school, like custodial and housekeeping at local business offices. Nothing too big, after all, I was coming off from an injury at work and i still had some money in the bank.
But in a couple of years time, the money was gone and I needed to start working. I applied and started working in the same plant my husband did. That has been the hardest most labor-intensive work I've ever seen and done. Chicken pieces move by very fast, and my husbands department was the 'filet', where he would slice out the breasts of the chicken. I was working in the same department, and the most difficult part was carrying the 130 lbs pallets and stacking them on top of each other.
I hated that place. It was a nightmare. Almost all of the workers there were illegals, and they were so vulgar. It was like people just started working there so they could shack up with each other. I hated it. In 1995, two years after I started working there, my husband herniated a disc in his back. He was going to have back surgery done on himself the following year, but have being told about the possibility of paralysis he declined just before the doctor applied the anesthesia.
He still kept working there because they let him work with restrictions and he was afraid that no other place would hire him if he need to have work restrictions on what he could do. I quit working there and started working somewhere else--a cell-phone assembly plant. The work was easy, it was low-skill assembly and there were a lot of women there working with me. We all got the job through a temporary hiring agency, and I thought it was surprising that there were very few men.
In 2002, my husband hurt the same disc again, this time it fractured. He couldn't work anymore and now receives social security disability payments. (we both became US citizens in '97, under Reagan we were given amnesty for being illegals). My husband now stays at home and I work. I have to say that sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been better for me to stay in México?
My husband and I both were only a couple of years away from getting our 'licenciaturas', now it's a daily struggle just to decide what we can afford to eat. The only thing I am thankful for are my three boys. They are almost all grown now, and unlike so many young Mexicans like the one's whose parents I know here in town, my boys are all going to college and they've always been recognized in school for being good students.
They were the reason we came here to the United States, but I suppose I expected to have a little more success for myself. Recently, I started working for a meat processing plant, and there was so much blatant mistreatment of myself and other co-workers, I couldn't stand it anymore, and I reported it to the EEOC.
I hate to fill your mind with a lot of negative history, Jessie, but there also a lot of nice things about being here in the United States. Security and a better quality of life are among them, but as for better jobs? I'll say that the pay is certainly better, but the treatment, in my case has been worse here than in México.
I spend a lot of my time reading about human rights and equality and so on thanks to the internet. There's no way I would have access to it in México. I found out about a neat little conference about Tamaulipas about six months ago. I've gone to their meetings twice. Such an interesting topic and good people, a lot from Rio Bravo! I'll be going tonight, it's a good little social gathering to have.
Well, I'll write to you again, soon, Jessie, and keep in touch as well.
Yours eternally,
Delia Rodriguez Guerrero
Friday, December 7, 2007
Otra Vida, Otro Ensueño, Una Lucha Más
PART THREE OF THE INTERVIEW WITH ROSARIO CEPEDA
--y cuando llegó a Houston, qué hizo?
--cómo que qué hize?
--I mean, what happened, did your husband have a place for you?
--oh yes, yes, he had an apartment, it was small, but it was just my husband, myself and Andres.
--and are you there today?
--no, not today, we moved, obviously because we could not stay in such a small place for too long. That and my husband was making good money so we could buy a house.
--what does your husband do?
--He's a welder. He spends many hours every single day working overtime to provide for all of us.
--mmm, do you work?
--sí, I sure do. When I first got here, my husband knew someone quien "arreglabla" papers. And so we paid about three hundred dollars and got me a social security number and I started to work.
--what kind of job did you have here in the US?
--I was working at a factory. It was a factory that made pico de gallo and put it into small plastic containers. Like the sort of stuff that you would buy at Wal-Mart or Fiesta Mart or something like that. My job was just to put the lid on the containers and let it keep going down the line so that it could be wrapped and sealed.
--did that job pay well?
--not incredibly well, but it was easier and less stressful than when I worked in México,a lot better than México.
--were the wages a lot better, too?
--well, yeah, I was making like five or seven dollars a day at some of the maquiladoras, and here, I was making about six dollars an hour, it's a lot better if you think about it that way, but really it is not too different.
--what do you mean?
--Things here cost a lot more. Everything is so expensive here. From gasoline to clothes and food, rent, utilities. In México, I don't know, life seemed slower and less worrisome. (pause) I don't know. It's hard to explain.
--Do you prefer to live here, then?
--(pause) well, yeah, I prefer to live here. Here in the US there are things that people have and can afford that are undremable in México. Like cell phones, nicer cars, better houses. Better everything really. I remember in México every day was a struggle just to have enough to eat. Now, I have more or less what I need, but (pause) I don't know, I guess I'm just not as happy here for other things.
--mmm, would you mind telling me what are some things that make you unhappy?
--(pause) I don't know. I guess...one thing is the feeling of competition with other Mexicans. It feels like everyone is so competitive to prove that they are better off than the other.
--oh. I think I know what you mean, but...would you mind explaining some more?
--you know that expression, something about how people are like crabs in a bucket, when one tries to crawl out, the rest pull him back? I think that's how Mexicans are here in the United States, they are not like that so much in México.
--Why do you th--
--I think it's because people come here believing in the American dream and in the illusion of prosperity, and sometimes a Mexican might feel that if they have been here longer than someone else who just came, then they ought to be better off than the newcomer. But who knows? maybe the new guy knows someone who pays well, or gets lucky with a bet, or something happens that make others jealous.
--oh
--and, a lot of times when people have good fortune, they make as if they are so smart and that they earned every bit of it, when sometimes it just depended on who offered him a job off the street the week before. There's just too much envy among Mexicans and for no reason. I wish--I wish we could get along. I know México is dangerous sometimes, but people are so much nicer, kinder talkative and friendly, here I just don't get that vibe.
--I think I know what you're talking about. To be honest, I feel i too here in college. Anytime I say something Spanish to a random hispanic person I've never met or I kinda say 'hi' they get an attitude like,"I don't hang out with your kind" I dunno. Maybe I'm just paranoid, but I always get the feeling that hispanic college students want to pretend they don't know anything about being hispanic or Mexican or latino-whatever- or just don't want to socialize with other hispanics.
--really?
--Maybe it's just me (laugh) I think I'm just paranoid.
--(laugh)
--y'know there's a a conference on Tamaulipas culture and history in a few days. It's just outside of Houston.
--do you know what time?
--I'll have to look it up, you should go, though, it's been at least ten years since you've lived there. There's supposed to be a talk about NAFTA and about poverty and also about coaliton-building, maybe you should check it out at least to see paisanos.
--yeah, maybe.
END OF PART THREE
--y cuando llegó a Houston, qué hizo?
--cómo que qué hize?
--I mean, what happened, did your husband have a place for you?
--oh yes, yes, he had an apartment, it was small, but it was just my husband, myself and Andres.
--and are you there today?
--no, not today, we moved, obviously because we could not stay in such a small place for too long. That and my husband was making good money so we could buy a house.
--what does your husband do?
--He's a welder. He spends many hours every single day working overtime to provide for all of us.
--mmm, do you work?
--sí, I sure do. When I first got here, my husband knew someone quien "arreglabla" papers. And so we paid about three hundred dollars and got me a social security number and I started to work.
--what kind of job did you have here in the US?
--I was working at a factory. It was a factory that made pico de gallo and put it into small plastic containers. Like the sort of stuff that you would buy at Wal-Mart or Fiesta Mart or something like that. My job was just to put the lid on the containers and let it keep going down the line so that it could be wrapped and sealed.
--did that job pay well?
--not incredibly well, but it was easier and less stressful than when I worked in México,a lot better than México.
--were the wages a lot better, too?
--well, yeah, I was making like five or seven dollars a day at some of the maquiladoras, and here, I was making about six dollars an hour, it's a lot better if you think about it that way, but really it is not too different.
--what do you mean?
--Things here cost a lot more. Everything is so expensive here. From gasoline to clothes and food, rent, utilities. In México, I don't know, life seemed slower and less worrisome. (pause) I don't know. It's hard to explain.
--Do you prefer to live here, then?
--(pause) well, yeah, I prefer to live here. Here in the US there are things that people have and can afford that are undremable in México. Like cell phones, nicer cars, better houses. Better everything really. I remember in México every day was a struggle just to have enough to eat. Now, I have more or less what I need, but (pause) I don't know, I guess I'm just not as happy here for other things.
--mmm, would you mind telling me what are some things that make you unhappy?
--(pause) I don't know. I guess...one thing is the feeling of competition with other Mexicans. It feels like everyone is so competitive to prove that they are better off than the other.
--oh. I think I know what you mean, but...would you mind explaining some more?
--you know that expression, something about how people are like crabs in a bucket, when one tries to crawl out, the rest pull him back? I think that's how Mexicans are here in the United States, they are not like that so much in México.
--Why do you th--
--I think it's because people come here believing in the American dream and in the illusion of prosperity, and sometimes a Mexican might feel that if they have been here longer than someone else who just came, then they ought to be better off than the newcomer. But who knows? maybe the new guy knows someone who pays well, or gets lucky with a bet, or something happens that make others jealous.
--oh
--and, a lot of times when people have good fortune, they make as if they are so smart and that they earned every bit of it, when sometimes it just depended on who offered him a job off the street the week before. There's just too much envy among Mexicans and for no reason. I wish--I wish we could get along. I know México is dangerous sometimes, but people are so much nicer, kinder talkative and friendly, here I just don't get that vibe.
--I think I know what you're talking about. To be honest, I feel i too here in college. Anytime I say something Spanish to a random hispanic person I've never met or I kinda say 'hi' they get an attitude like,"I don't hang out with your kind" I dunno. Maybe I'm just paranoid, but I always get the feeling that hispanic college students want to pretend they don't know anything about being hispanic or Mexican or latino-whatever- or just don't want to socialize with other hispanics.
--really?
--Maybe it's just me (laugh) I think I'm just paranoid.
--(laugh)
--y'know there's a a conference on Tamaulipas culture and history in a few days. It's just outside of Houston.
--do you know what time?
--I'll have to look it up, you should go, though, it's been at least ten years since you've lived there. There's supposed to be a talk about NAFTA and about poverty and also about coaliton-building, maybe you should check it out at least to see paisanos.
--yeah, maybe.
END OF PART THREE
Viviendo en EEUU
María Elena Guardado PART THREE
My family and I came here to the United States after that horrible experience in which we were mugged. I felt a lot of relief for myself and for my daughters who were still very young then. My husband was as supportive as he could be, and it was not long after our move that he began working again for the computer company.
I think I spent a lot of time isolating myself from everybody. I was less afraid after that very scary incident in Mexico DF, but now I had new problems. First of all, I could not speak English too well. I studied it at Monterrey Tech, I could understand a good bit of what i read, but to speak it. That was trouble.
I started taking classes for English at a local community college and classes in psychology as well. It only took a couple of years for me to start understanding English pretty well. My husband would also speak a lot of English because of his job and it made it so much easier for me to understand.
I really didn't know what to expect when I came to the United States, but I did not expect to become a housewife. However, for about seven years, I stayed at home, took care of the girls, read furiously and then decided it was time for me to start working.
I cannot say that I am too impressed with the jobs I have held here in the United States. Having a degree from México is so close to not having anything at all. I worked in the financial sector, handling loans and things like that.
I still travel back to México occasionaly, but I am very much removed from the business management and HR areas.
Just a few weeks ago, there was a conference held by LULAC and by the local Catholic charity that was providing a culture and history of the state of Tamaulipas. I decided to go because it had been a very long time since I immersed myself back into my own culture. That, and my maiden name is Matamoros. I'm glad I went, too, because at first I thought it was going to be like a musical cultural event or a folkloric type conference. Speaking of which, there is a singer Rigo Tovar, who wrote a song about Matamoros, and years later the city of Matamoros made a statue of him and put it in the town square. (He totally did not deserve it because he had such an awful voice!)
But I'm glad I went because the conference was a lot more educational and emotional than I thought it would be. There was a big discussion on the pollution in Matamoros, and I always knew it existed. I've only been there once in my life, but let me tell you that town has got to be among the ugliest I've ever laid eyes on! I say this in good faith, seriously for those of you who've never been to México and want to see beauty you have to go pretty far south like Guadalajara, Jalisco or San Luis Potosí, where I was born, or around the Guanajuato, Cuernavaca areas. All of those are so beautiful.
But the little conference was great! No Rigo Tovar, and a lot of good information about the city, the relationship to American business. I was reminded of what I used to do for Sam's Club México. There was a discussion on NAFTA that was pretty helpful and I met a lot of good women there, too, who are from Matamoros or who neighbor it. After the conference I spoke to LULAC about working with them for future presentations and I pretty much gave them my resume on the spot. I think I can get on board with a lot of this stuff and it will help me get back in touch with my countrymen. I see Mexican women all the time in stores, at business offices, on the street, but it has been so long since I've spoken to them.
I need to find out more about NAFTA, because if it what i understood at the conference is only half-true, then it explains quite a bit about how ugly Matamoros is, and about the system I used to participate in.
My family and I came here to the United States after that horrible experience in which we were mugged. I felt a lot of relief for myself and for my daughters who were still very young then. My husband was as supportive as he could be, and it was not long after our move that he began working again for the computer company.
I think I spent a lot of time isolating myself from everybody. I was less afraid after that very scary incident in Mexico DF, but now I had new problems. First of all, I could not speak English too well. I studied it at Monterrey Tech, I could understand a good bit of what i read, but to speak it. That was trouble.
I started taking classes for English at a local community college and classes in psychology as well. It only took a couple of years for me to start understanding English pretty well. My husband would also speak a lot of English because of his job and it made it so much easier for me to understand.
I really didn't know what to expect when I came to the United States, but I did not expect to become a housewife. However, for about seven years, I stayed at home, took care of the girls, read furiously and then decided it was time for me to start working.
I cannot say that I am too impressed with the jobs I have held here in the United States. Having a degree from México is so close to not having anything at all. I worked in the financial sector, handling loans and things like that.
I still travel back to México occasionaly, but I am very much removed from the business management and HR areas.
Just a few weeks ago, there was a conference held by LULAC and by the local Catholic charity that was providing a culture and history of the state of Tamaulipas. I decided to go because it had been a very long time since I immersed myself back into my own culture. That, and my maiden name is Matamoros. I'm glad I went, too, because at first I thought it was going to be like a musical cultural event or a folkloric type conference. Speaking of which, there is a singer Rigo Tovar, who wrote a song about Matamoros, and years later the city of Matamoros made a statue of him and put it in the town square. (He totally did not deserve it because he had such an awful voice!)
But I'm glad I went because the conference was a lot more educational and emotional than I thought it would be. There was a big discussion on the pollution in Matamoros, and I always knew it existed. I've only been there once in my life, but let me tell you that town has got to be among the ugliest I've ever laid eyes on! I say this in good faith, seriously for those of you who've never been to México and want to see beauty you have to go pretty far south like Guadalajara, Jalisco or San Luis Potosí, where I was born, or around the Guanajuato, Cuernavaca areas. All of those are so beautiful.
But the little conference was great! No Rigo Tovar, and a lot of good information about the city, the relationship to American business. I was reminded of what I used to do for Sam's Club México. There was a discussion on NAFTA that was pretty helpful and I met a lot of good women there, too, who are from Matamoros or who neighbor it. After the conference I spoke to LULAC about working with them for future presentations and I pretty much gave them my resume on the spot. I think I can get on board with a lot of this stuff and it will help me get back in touch with my countrymen. I see Mexican women all the time in stores, at business offices, on the street, but it has been so long since I've spoken to them.
I need to find out more about NAFTA, because if it what i understood at the conference is only half-true, then it explains quite a bit about how ugly Matamoros is, and about the system I used to participate in.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Segunda Correspondencia a Jessie
Hola Jessie!
un placer como siempre volver oir de ti. Como dije en la última carta, quiero contarte como fue en una empresa y luego mi viaje a los Estados Unidos.
I cannot recall if i told you already, but after I studied for a couple of years at Universidad de Matamoros, I began working for Fisher-Price as inspector of Quality Assurance. After a while, I also began being in control as the auditor of supply of the raw material that was used for production. It was a pretty simple job, and I felt really lucky to have something like this. My husband worked for the Department of Agriculture and there was an agreement between the US and México to how the personnel would work, and my husband was also lucky to have that job.
Before I tell you how it came to be that we came here to the United States, I have to tell you that it may have been the best decision of my life. In México I felt oppressed like no other point in my life. Not by my job, but by my husband and my husband's family. The money I made and the money he made was used mostly so that he could keep his parents, who were aging, from having to work. I did not think this was appropriate, because his parents, like mine also rented out their land to other farmers. (His family had also snatched a landgrant when the government was handing out free farmland.)
We both had decent jobs. They were not great. We had a small little two-room house for ourselves, we had a car and we did not suffer hunger. When I was pregnant with my first son my husband and I both thought it would be wise to have him be American, and since I had my Visa, I stayed in Harlingen, Texas with some friends of the family and had him there. By birth my son is American. By the time I had him, I had to quit my job at Fisher-Price. I was not forced to leave, but I think it was suggested that it be best for the baby, and I agreed.
When i was pregnant with my second child, my husband and I discussed the difficulty of living in México and the struggles that even the educated have. My husband was also attending a college to become a schoolteacher, but we knew that even for professionals such as schoolteachers, in order to get a job, the school board of directors have to be paid 'under the table'. And usually the applicant with the best bribe got the job.
This kind of environment was difficult for us to accept to be the correct one for our children, and my husband chose to cross over to the United States in spite of his growing education. He had a Visa, as I did and traveled to Houston to work building houses, then in concrete then in landscaping. He missed the birth of our second child, Alex. I had him in Brownsville, just across the border so that he could be an American as well.
After about six more months (it had been about year) my husband paid my airfare so that I could finally be with him. At this time he was in Nebraska with some distant cousins. I took a busfare to Houston with my two little boys, then we flew to Dallas, then to Omaha, Nebraska. I had not seen my husband in well over a year, and my oldest little boy, Jessie, did not recognize his father, because it had been so long since he'd seen him. This broke my heart. But I was happy that we were reunited once again.
I began working at a slaughter plant along with my husband in Nebraska. The name of the company was IBP. The vast majority of the workers were Mexicans. Nearly all of them were illegal. There were occasional raids by the INS near the plant, but never directly at the plant. I remember one time the plant owners refused to let the INS officers enter the plant. And another time when the INS rounded up people living in the trailer parks.
My husband and I always knew never to live in a trailer park. A lot of illegals did it because it was cheaper, but it was just an easy way for INS to capture a lot of illegals in a single day, and instead we rented a small little house with a kitchen and a bedroom. My husband built a wall so that we could have a living room, too.
The working conditions at IBP were among the worst I remember. It was always cold, it was very dangerous and I always came home dead-tired from the work. The floors were always slippery and full of blood, and it was hard to see because the goggles we were made to wear could fog up easily. One day at work, a ladder fell on me and I was sent to the hospital. I had a herniated disc and I was in a lot of pain. The plant gave me fifteen thousand dollars to settle.
With the money, I convinced my husband that we should move to Texas so that we could be closer to México and closer to our families that lived in Texas. I talked about a new beginning, how we could use the money the plant gave us to maybe start a little business, I wanted an opportunity to do in the United States what everyone talks about: the American dream, a nice home, nice friends. Working as much as we did (it was about 50 to 60 hours a week) was just too much.
After five years of Nebraska, we moved to Texas.
Jessie, I will tell you the rest later, but it seems as though I have company at the door and I will have to leave it at this for now.
Talk to you soon,
Delia Rodriguez Guerrero
un placer como siempre volver oir de ti. Como dije en la última carta, quiero contarte como fue en una empresa y luego mi viaje a los Estados Unidos.
I cannot recall if i told you already, but after I studied for a couple of years at Universidad de Matamoros, I began working for Fisher-Price as inspector of Quality Assurance. After a while, I also began being in control as the auditor of supply of the raw material that was used for production. It was a pretty simple job, and I felt really lucky to have something like this. My husband worked for the Department of Agriculture and there was an agreement between the US and México to how the personnel would work, and my husband was also lucky to have that job.
Before I tell you how it came to be that we came here to the United States, I have to tell you that it may have been the best decision of my life. In México I felt oppressed like no other point in my life. Not by my job, but by my husband and my husband's family. The money I made and the money he made was used mostly so that he could keep his parents, who were aging, from having to work. I did not think this was appropriate, because his parents, like mine also rented out their land to other farmers. (His family had also snatched a landgrant when the government was handing out free farmland.)
We both had decent jobs. They were not great. We had a small little two-room house for ourselves, we had a car and we did not suffer hunger. When I was pregnant with my first son my husband and I both thought it would be wise to have him be American, and since I had my Visa, I stayed in Harlingen, Texas with some friends of the family and had him there. By birth my son is American. By the time I had him, I had to quit my job at Fisher-Price. I was not forced to leave, but I think it was suggested that it be best for the baby, and I agreed.
When i was pregnant with my second child, my husband and I discussed the difficulty of living in México and the struggles that even the educated have. My husband was also attending a college to become a schoolteacher, but we knew that even for professionals such as schoolteachers, in order to get a job, the school board of directors have to be paid 'under the table'. And usually the applicant with the best bribe got the job.
This kind of environment was difficult for us to accept to be the correct one for our children, and my husband chose to cross over to the United States in spite of his growing education. He had a Visa, as I did and traveled to Houston to work building houses, then in concrete then in landscaping. He missed the birth of our second child, Alex. I had him in Brownsville, just across the border so that he could be an American as well.
After about six more months (it had been about year) my husband paid my airfare so that I could finally be with him. At this time he was in Nebraska with some distant cousins. I took a busfare to Houston with my two little boys, then we flew to Dallas, then to Omaha, Nebraska. I had not seen my husband in well over a year, and my oldest little boy, Jessie, did not recognize his father, because it had been so long since he'd seen him. This broke my heart. But I was happy that we were reunited once again.
I began working at a slaughter plant along with my husband in Nebraska. The name of the company was IBP. The vast majority of the workers were Mexicans. Nearly all of them were illegal. There were occasional raids by the INS near the plant, but never directly at the plant. I remember one time the plant owners refused to let the INS officers enter the plant. And another time when the INS rounded up people living in the trailer parks.
My husband and I always knew never to live in a trailer park. A lot of illegals did it because it was cheaper, but it was just an easy way for INS to capture a lot of illegals in a single day, and instead we rented a small little house with a kitchen and a bedroom. My husband built a wall so that we could have a living room, too.
The working conditions at IBP were among the worst I remember. It was always cold, it was very dangerous and I always came home dead-tired from the work. The floors were always slippery and full of blood, and it was hard to see because the goggles we were made to wear could fog up easily. One day at work, a ladder fell on me and I was sent to the hospital. I had a herniated disc and I was in a lot of pain. The plant gave me fifteen thousand dollars to settle.
With the money, I convinced my husband that we should move to Texas so that we could be closer to México and closer to our families that lived in Texas. I talked about a new beginning, how we could use the money the plant gave us to maybe start a little business, I wanted an opportunity to do in the United States what everyone talks about: the American dream, a nice home, nice friends. Working as much as we did (it was about 50 to 60 hours a week) was just too much.
After five years of Nebraska, we moved to Texas.
Jessie, I will tell you the rest later, but it seems as though I have company at the door and I will have to leave it at this for now.
Talk to you soon,
Delia Rodriguez Guerrero
Trabajando en maquilas-viajando al 'otro lado'
PART 2 OF INTERVIEW WITH ROSARIO CEPEDA
--entonces, me dijo la vez pasada que la entrevistaron?
--sí, they called us to interview us. So it was a group of girls and we all went to get I guess get hired for sure.
--how did they make their decisions--what did they ask?
--First they asked me if I had experience. I told them yes, but that I thought the last few days of working there was more than enough experience. They laughed, I guess, then they asked me when I could work where I had gone to school, those kinds of things.
--did you lie to them?
--no. Why would I lie? I told them. if it is about the education-is that why you're asking? no, I don't think they really cared all that much. I told them I went to secundaria, the kind of work I was used to doing.
--and did they decide to hire you right there?
--well, yes, they did. But they said something that made me angry...well, I am more angry now that i think back on it, but then I guess I just accepted it because of--
--what did they tell you that made you angry?
--I was not angry then. I am not really that angry now, to be honest, but then I was more worried about--
--what was it that they said?
--oh yes. They said that because I did not have experience working in another factory that they would not pay me for the four days I was working before. They said that since it was training, and the training served me better so that I could make a good product, I would not be paid for those days.
--really? they told you that?
--see? it makes me mad when I think about it (laughs) but back then I guess I thought it was a bad deal, but I was glad that I would start working there, so it was like a ...bittersweet victory I guess.
--and you went back the next day?
--yes, I started working every day at the maquila and there were a lot of women working there too. mostly women.
--how were the working conditions?
--(pause). I think that if it were not for my compañeras, I would not have stayed there for as long as i did. The bosses were also yelling. Two of them yelled all the time, things like "pick that up" "no, not you again!" y'know, and then a lot of insults. And for those girls who cried when they were insulted, they were told to go home. They were not told that they were fired, and many thought that they were so they did not come back. But the bosses would let some of them come back if we needed to meet the quotas.
--how did you get back and forth from the maquila?
--on a pesera. Luckily, the maquila was not off in some desert like you hear about in Juárez and Reynosa, it was more or less within the city, so there were lights every now and then. So long as the ladies walked together to the stop we felt okay. The bad times were when we had too many girls working on the floor and some were sent home. That was bad because they could be sent home at any time and usually they would be alone. But that did not happen very much at night anyway.
--so it was not dangerous for women to work there?
--mmmm, dangerous? yes, it was always dangerous for us to work there! wires without protective covering, scissors, needles and so on. And when we left for home, sometimes the bosses would start hitting on the pretty girls and some of them would get pregnant. It was very sad. It was a very sad situation for so many of us there who really needed to work....I thank God that he made me heavy, dark and ugly! (laughs--then does the sign of the cross).
--how long did you work there?
--mmm, about one year. we got laid off. but then, since I had experience I went and applied at another factory, this time it was one that made those little green flat boards with the metal dots on them--y'know what i'm talking about? it was for stereos.
--was that job different from the previous one?
--mmm, no not really. I really think that a lot of the maquilas are about the same, really. The biggest difference of this one was that there were a lot more men. I think maybe half the workers were men and the other half were women.
--did that make the women feel less safe?
--mmm, that's a hard question. I think it was a lot less safe because there I began hearing about more girls getting pregnant and then fired, other girls started dating men that were abusive. But at the same time there were men who were nice--what i did not like was that they usually got either promoted quickly or they moved to other departments where they have to be specially trained. I think there were only three or four women I had ever seen that did that while I was there.
--how long were you there?
--until I became pregnant, when i was twenty-three. I was seeing my husband then.
--did you want to keep working?
--(pause)mmm yes and no. Yes, because I needed the money and I thought I did my job well. but no because I knew how hard it would be to hide the pregnancy. There were times every now and then, maybe two or three times a year when the management would start demanding that we prove we were not pregnant. It was so stupid and humiliating, and i did not feel like ever having to go through that, so I just quit. (pause)Life is so hard in México (pause, weeping).
--when...when did you, uh, decide to cross over? (pause)
--my husband, it was his idea. He left first with a coyote and crossed somewhere between Juarez and Laredo, I don't really remember where. And he went off to Houston and started working there in construction.
--how long were you away from each other?
--almost two years. He was not present when our baby was born.
--did he plan for you to come over?
--yes, before he left he said he wanted to save money so that I could cross the same way he did, but I told him there was no way, because if I had Andres with me, there was no way for me to carry him, too. I told him I would apply for a day-Visa or something. That is probably what took so long, I had to apply and get a visitation Visa, otherwise, there was just no way I was going to walk through a desert with a baby.
--is that how you made it across, with a Visa?
--Yes, thank God! I could not have survived in the desert, there are the worst stories (pause). After I had Andres, I received my Visa, it was for...six months, I think, so that i could travel back and forth between México and the United States. I used it to cross, then I bought a bus ticket to Houston.
END OF PART 2
--entonces, me dijo la vez pasada que la entrevistaron?
--sí, they called us to interview us. So it was a group of girls and we all went to get I guess get hired for sure.
--how did they make their decisions--what did they ask?
--First they asked me if I had experience. I told them yes, but that I thought the last few days of working there was more than enough experience. They laughed, I guess, then they asked me when I could work where I had gone to school, those kinds of things.
--did you lie to them?
--no. Why would I lie? I told them. if it is about the education-is that why you're asking? no, I don't think they really cared all that much. I told them I went to secundaria, the kind of work I was used to doing.
--and did they decide to hire you right there?
--well, yes, they did. But they said something that made me angry...well, I am more angry now that i think back on it, but then I guess I just accepted it because of--
--what did they tell you that made you angry?
--I was not angry then. I am not really that angry now, to be honest, but then I was more worried about--
--what was it that they said?
--oh yes. They said that because I did not have experience working in another factory that they would not pay me for the four days I was working before. They said that since it was training, and the training served me better so that I could make a good product, I would not be paid for those days.
--really? they told you that?
--see? it makes me mad when I think about it (laughs) but back then I guess I thought it was a bad deal, but I was glad that I would start working there, so it was like a ...bittersweet victory I guess.
--and you went back the next day?
--yes, I started working every day at the maquila and there were a lot of women working there too. mostly women.
--how were the working conditions?
--(pause). I think that if it were not for my compañeras, I would not have stayed there for as long as i did. The bosses were also yelling. Two of them yelled all the time, things like "pick that up" "no, not you again!" y'know, and then a lot of insults. And for those girls who cried when they were insulted, they were told to go home. They were not told that they were fired, and many thought that they were so they did not come back. But the bosses would let some of them come back if we needed to meet the quotas.
--how did you get back and forth from the maquila?
--on a pesera. Luckily, the maquila was not off in some desert like you hear about in Juárez and Reynosa, it was more or less within the city, so there were lights every now and then. So long as the ladies walked together to the stop we felt okay. The bad times were when we had too many girls working on the floor and some were sent home. That was bad because they could be sent home at any time and usually they would be alone. But that did not happen very much at night anyway.
--so it was not dangerous for women to work there?
--mmmm, dangerous? yes, it was always dangerous for us to work there! wires without protective covering, scissors, needles and so on. And when we left for home, sometimes the bosses would start hitting on the pretty girls and some of them would get pregnant. It was very sad. It was a very sad situation for so many of us there who really needed to work....I thank God that he made me heavy, dark and ugly! (laughs--then does the sign of the cross).
--how long did you work there?
--mmm, about one year. we got laid off. but then, since I had experience I went and applied at another factory, this time it was one that made those little green flat boards with the metal dots on them--y'know what i'm talking about? it was for stereos.
--was that job different from the previous one?
--mmm, no not really. I really think that a lot of the maquilas are about the same, really. The biggest difference of this one was that there were a lot more men. I think maybe half the workers were men and the other half were women.
--did that make the women feel less safe?
--mmm, that's a hard question. I think it was a lot less safe because there I began hearing about more girls getting pregnant and then fired, other girls started dating men that were abusive. But at the same time there were men who were nice--what i did not like was that they usually got either promoted quickly or they moved to other departments where they have to be specially trained. I think there were only three or four women I had ever seen that did that while I was there.
--how long were you there?
--until I became pregnant, when i was twenty-three. I was seeing my husband then.
--did you want to keep working?
--(pause)mmm yes and no. Yes, because I needed the money and I thought I did my job well. but no because I knew how hard it would be to hide the pregnancy. There were times every now and then, maybe two or three times a year when the management would start demanding that we prove we were not pregnant. It was so stupid and humiliating, and i did not feel like ever having to go through that, so I just quit. (pause)Life is so hard in México (pause, weeping).
--when...when did you, uh, decide to cross over? (pause)
--my husband, it was his idea. He left first with a coyote and crossed somewhere between Juarez and Laredo, I don't really remember where. And he went off to Houston and started working there in construction.
--how long were you away from each other?
--almost two years. He was not present when our baby was born.
--did he plan for you to come over?
--yes, before he left he said he wanted to save money so that I could cross the same way he did, but I told him there was no way, because if I had Andres with me, there was no way for me to carry him, too. I told him I would apply for a day-Visa or something. That is probably what took so long, I had to apply and get a visitation Visa, otherwise, there was just no way I was going to walk through a desert with a baby.
--is that how you made it across, with a Visa?
--Yes, thank God! I could not have survived in the desert, there are the worst stories (pause). After I had Andres, I received my Visa, it was for...six months, I think, so that i could travel back and forth between México and the United States. I used it to cross, then I bought a bus ticket to Houston.
END OF PART 2
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
De la universidad y al trabajo
PART 2 OF TESTIMONY BY MARIA ELENA GUARDADO
I had my first daughter shortly after I graduated from Monterrey Tech. As I have said, in México having a child or being pregnant and being a woman is like throwing in the towel because it makes everything virtually impossible. For so many interviews I would have to include on my applications that I had no children and I was single. But the jobs would not last for more than maybe six or eight months because the Mexican markets can be unstable, and the new hires are usually the first to go.
Finally I was hired by Sam's Club in México. I have to tell you that for a woman that is married and has a child, a job as manager in Human Resources is an abolute dream come true. I have been very fortunate in that regard. But I have to tell you, even though I struggled to get jobs when I first graduated, and even when I thought it was unfair that less-qualified men got jobs that women like me were automatically ineligible for, I was still surprised to what degree we could determine who was hired and who was not.
In México, believe me, there is almost no understanding of labor laws, and Sam's was not required to report how it made its determinations for hirees nor for when we let people go. We were pretty much given free reign to choose as we wanted to. Here in the United States you could never do something like that. When I first came here, I discovered that by law every place of business had to have those big blue informationals that let the workers know about discrimination and even gives out numbers to call. In México, you can't call anyone to help you do anything!
One of the requirements we had for some clients was where they went to school. We had a list of prep schools and universities where we were told to automatically disqualify the applicants if they came from those schools. There were a few good school's thrown into the pot, there were some national prep schools, and a lot of the applicant's were not even considered if they graduated from the wrong university.
For both men and women, they had to be under a certain age. Usually it was thirty years old for both, but many times the limit was lower for women by about two years. And in México, unlike here, you are allowed to ask for age and marital status and all of that stuff. I think here in the United States it's illegal to ask for age during a job interview.
There were some jobs that were sometimes impossible to fill. For example, there was an administrative job where only men could be hired (a lot of the admin jobs went only to men). The applicant would've been required to have gone to only a handful of universities and have had five years experience--at least--doing some kind of management in the relevant fields. By the time the applicant's would have graduated from their university they would be about 22 or 23 years old. Then add five years of mandatory experience, 27 or 28. Then the next requirement was that they be under the age of 30--no matter what. Which gave the applicant only a 2-3 year timeframe in which their skills could be capitalized! That is practically impossible to fill such a position. Oh yes, and they had to be married! For every good paying job men HAD to be married or they would be disqualified.
The thinking behind having men be married is that if they have a wife and kids then they are less likely to quit the job because he has the responsibility for his entire family. That way, by asking the interview questions we asked, we could determine how much control we had over our potential employees.
And of course women were the exact opposite. Like in my case, even with an education from a nice school, women were usually disqualified if they were married. Exceptions could be made, but usually it was avoided because it was understood that if a woman was married, it only be a matter of time before she was pregnant and no firm wants to deal with that in México.
Women had the worst treatment. There were a number of retail sales companies I was familiar with. There is one that is pretty uppity, I think it is called Liverpool, I am not exactly certain, but every single young lady that is on the sales floor is required to be single. Not only are there strict rules against pregnant women, those who get married usually understand that they won't be able to work anymore.
At Sam's, it was not much better. A girl could be married, but it was better that she be married while she was an employee, because we could let that slide. Had it been an applicant who was married, it would've taken a lot of experience for us to consider her. These practices are not unusual at all in México. It is not exclusive to industry and it is not exclusive to retail or commodity sales. it is pretty much across the board. I think this is one of the reasons that foreign companies came to México and other countries like ours, they decide they want to invest in a cheaper market where they pay is good by our standards, and practically illegal by theirs and are protected by lack of laws against a lot of unethical practices.
I want to add how I came to be here in the United States. My husband and I were living in Mexico City for a few years, and after we left a party one night and making our way to our car, a couple of young hoodlums with guns forced us into our own car and drove us to an ATM. Those little punks were so obviously nervous that it made me jittery because he had his gun drawn and i was so scared that he would accidentally shoot it off.
In México, the situation we were in is called, "Secuestro Express" because it happens so often and it is finished so quickly that it is almost like a service. Many times the people who are held hostage call their family and get them to pay a lot of money to let them go. In our case, it was an ATM fraud and my husband gave those two a lot of money.
This unsafe environment was very emotionally draining for me and my daughters and I wanted to leave. I did not feel safe in México anymore, I could hardly get out of the house without running back inside the house or being so incredibly paranoid that I would ball up into a bundle of nerves as I got into my car. Driving was way worse. I would think of all the news stories about carjackings, and i knew how dangerous the city was. I wanted out. I talked to my husband and I suppose he got authorization from the company he worked for--I think it was Hewlett Packard--to work in the United States. They gave him the L-1 Visa, which is the highest Visa that anyone can get, and he got it mostly because of his status as an engineer.
That is how I came to be here in the United States.
END OF PART 2
I had my first daughter shortly after I graduated from Monterrey Tech. As I have said, in México having a child or being pregnant and being a woman is like throwing in the towel because it makes everything virtually impossible. For so many interviews I would have to include on my applications that I had no children and I was single. But the jobs would not last for more than maybe six or eight months because the Mexican markets can be unstable, and the new hires are usually the first to go.
Finally I was hired by Sam's Club in México. I have to tell you that for a woman that is married and has a child, a job as manager in Human Resources is an abolute dream come true. I have been very fortunate in that regard. But I have to tell you, even though I struggled to get jobs when I first graduated, and even when I thought it was unfair that less-qualified men got jobs that women like me were automatically ineligible for, I was still surprised to what degree we could determine who was hired and who was not.
In México, believe me, there is almost no understanding of labor laws, and Sam's was not required to report how it made its determinations for hirees nor for when we let people go. We were pretty much given free reign to choose as we wanted to. Here in the United States you could never do something like that. When I first came here, I discovered that by law every place of business had to have those big blue informationals that let the workers know about discrimination and even gives out numbers to call. In México, you can't call anyone to help you do anything!
One of the requirements we had for some clients was where they went to school. We had a list of prep schools and universities where we were told to automatically disqualify the applicants if they came from those schools. There were a few good school's thrown into the pot, there were some national prep schools, and a lot of the applicant's were not even considered if they graduated from the wrong university.
For both men and women, they had to be under a certain age. Usually it was thirty years old for both, but many times the limit was lower for women by about two years. And in México, unlike here, you are allowed to ask for age and marital status and all of that stuff. I think here in the United States it's illegal to ask for age during a job interview.
There were some jobs that were sometimes impossible to fill. For example, there was an administrative job where only men could be hired (a lot of the admin jobs went only to men). The applicant would've been required to have gone to only a handful of universities and have had five years experience--at least--doing some kind of management in the relevant fields. By the time the applicant's would have graduated from their university they would be about 22 or 23 years old. Then add five years of mandatory experience, 27 or 28. Then the next requirement was that they be under the age of 30--no matter what. Which gave the applicant only a 2-3 year timeframe in which their skills could be capitalized! That is practically impossible to fill such a position. Oh yes, and they had to be married! For every good paying job men HAD to be married or they would be disqualified.
The thinking behind having men be married is that if they have a wife and kids then they are less likely to quit the job because he has the responsibility for his entire family. That way, by asking the interview questions we asked, we could determine how much control we had over our potential employees.
And of course women were the exact opposite. Like in my case, even with an education from a nice school, women were usually disqualified if they were married. Exceptions could be made, but usually it was avoided because it was understood that if a woman was married, it only be a matter of time before she was pregnant and no firm wants to deal with that in México.
Women had the worst treatment. There were a number of retail sales companies I was familiar with. There is one that is pretty uppity, I think it is called Liverpool, I am not exactly certain, but every single young lady that is on the sales floor is required to be single. Not only are there strict rules against pregnant women, those who get married usually understand that they won't be able to work anymore.
At Sam's, it was not much better. A girl could be married, but it was better that she be married while she was an employee, because we could let that slide. Had it been an applicant who was married, it would've taken a lot of experience for us to consider her. These practices are not unusual at all in México. It is not exclusive to industry and it is not exclusive to retail or commodity sales. it is pretty much across the board. I think this is one of the reasons that foreign companies came to México and other countries like ours, they decide they want to invest in a cheaper market where they pay is good by our standards, and practically illegal by theirs and are protected by lack of laws against a lot of unethical practices.
I want to add how I came to be here in the United States. My husband and I were living in Mexico City for a few years, and after we left a party one night and making our way to our car, a couple of young hoodlums with guns forced us into our own car and drove us to an ATM. Those little punks were so obviously nervous that it made me jittery because he had his gun drawn and i was so scared that he would accidentally shoot it off.
In México, the situation we were in is called, "Secuestro Express" because it happens so often and it is finished so quickly that it is almost like a service. Many times the people who are held hostage call their family and get them to pay a lot of money to let them go. In our case, it was an ATM fraud and my husband gave those two a lot of money.
This unsafe environment was very emotionally draining for me and my daughters and I wanted to leave. I did not feel safe in México anymore, I could hardly get out of the house without running back inside the house or being so incredibly paranoid that I would ball up into a bundle of nerves as I got into my car. Driving was way worse. I would think of all the news stories about carjackings, and i knew how dangerous the city was. I wanted out. I talked to my husband and I suppose he got authorization from the company he worked for--I think it was Hewlett Packard--to work in the United States. They gave him the L-1 Visa, which is the highest Visa that anyone can get, and he got it mostly because of his status as an engineer.
That is how I came to be here in the United States.
END OF PART 2
Trabajando en dos paises, primero el primero
En correspondencia a Jessie González:
Hola, Jessie, buenos días, gracias por tu carta, sería una placer como siempre, dedicarle algo de tiempo para contarte acerca de los aspectos de mi vida de los cuales me preguntastes.
I was born and raised on a ranch outside of Rio Bravo, Tamaulipas. I have several brothers and sisters, six sisters, two brothers, so there are nine of us. My father owned a small farm near Rio Bravo where we lived a great part of our lives. Like most of the uneducated landowners of northern México, my father traveled to Tamaulipas from Guanajuato when the government was offering free land to anyone who would use it. Coming from an agrarian, completely uneducated background, my father and mother made a small boxcart, and along with a mule to carry them, traveled to the border regions of Tamaulipas where they received a small landgrant and my father began growing maiz and sometimes sorghum.
I'm not sure exactly why the government was giving away free land. I am aware that most of northern México was not very populated at all in the beginning of the twentieth century, and I am not sure if the land giveaway was to spread out the population, or to create a racial barrier between the United States and México.
Whatever the case, our ranch, like many others, neighbored people that we knew. I suppose that my father either came to Rio Bravo because there was a relative who invited him or he began inviting family to get the landgrants beside his own ranch. A lot of families did this and it helped keep extended families together. There was something like a small village that was formed merely because of the way people chose to distance themselves from one another. Imagine a circle with a dot in the center. the dot represented the village of people and the rest of the circle represented the 'parcelas' the farmlands of each family which lied next to each other.
When the seasons came to start planting seed, the irrigation system was made so that each family would get a specific amount of time to use the water on their 'parcela', so depending on the time of day or night, everyone had to be ready to use the water available when the time came. That was definintely a period of hard word. All of my brothers and sisters worked on the 'parcela' from a young age. Maybe five or six years old is how old we were when we started working out on the 'parcela'.
I think my life has been full of hard work from such an early age. Nevertheless, I still went to school, along with all of my brothers and sisters. There were some families out in the ranches who did not take their kids to schools so that they could work instead. But this was supposed to be against the law and many were scared into having their kids go to school at least until they left secundaria (which is the US equivalent to middle school).
My fondest childhood memory of school was when I was very young. A man came to class who was an art teacher of some kind and told us that we were to draw a picture and the winner would win colored pencils and a sketchbook for drawing. I won the prize, and I still remember that I drew three little ducks in a pond. I was seven years old then, and I cannot forget how happy I was because living in a house with two rooms for eleven people (the rooms were the bedroom and the kitchen) and having to share a bed with six of my brothers and sisters, there was no money for small gifts, let alone shoes for primary school.
When I was about eleven years old, my father (who had become an alcoholic) decided to rent out the 'parcela' to another farmer, and we moved to the city of Rio Bravo. We built our house in Rio Bravo by ourselves. We paid some builders to lay the foundation for one room. My dad and brothers paid very close attention to how the builders made sure the floor was leveled and how they built it. Once they finished, my father paid and thanked them, then got my oldest brother, Gerardo to lead the rest of us on how to make the foundation for the rest of the house. All of us worked together, and we all built the house brick by brick in a part of town that was not well off by any means, but was just a little better than being completely poor.
As we went off to secundaria, my sisters and I began working by cleaning ladies homes and by doing other people's laundry. It was very little that we made, but it was enough to buy our school supplies, some fabric so we could make some clothes, or sometimes even store-bought clothes. I was a lot happier in the city because there was a little more to do, but I always felt self-conscious about having come from the ranch because of the perception of farmers as being ignorant.
I chose to go to prep school out of my own will, and so did a sister of mine, Elisama. This cost a lot more than public education did, but we both figured that an education was the only way to be led away from the darkness of our ignorance as farmers. She and I were both very idealist and we convinced ourselves to go on to prep school in spite of our families poverty because we wanted to have it pay off for the family in the future, or at least for ourselves. This was during the latter half of the 1960's when I went to preparatory school. And in the midst of so much social revolution, classes were cancelled very frequently. I remember students sometimes stopping peseras on one of their stops and forcing the driver out then telling everyone to support the protest or get out.
I had no idea exactly what the political issues were, and as destructive as a lot of the students were, I was not sure that they knew either. Students would burn cars or flip over busses, protest against the school or against the city government. I feared for my safety during my first year of prep school, and also a little robbed because most of the first year was spent striking against the school and not learning anything.
Jessie, I'm sorry that I'm getting a little bit off-topic from the questions you asked, but when I think of my educational history before I started working for the maquiladora, I think I really have to tell you about the protests and about the state of the country. I think it's so important, Jessie, because even though there are not revolts and protests like there used to be, the dangerous environment that these protesters were rioting against still exists to very large degree in México today....well, to be honest, since I have not lived and worked in México in about twenty years I can only speak about what I hear, but even when I worked there, I knew that there was reason to protest, I just did not feel safe when the protests became as violent as they frequently did.
My second year of prep school, there was a student whose name I've forgotten, who had already received his licensiatura (the equivalent of a Bachelor's) fron UNAM--probably the most prestigious university in all of México. He was in his twenties, but was in our prep school after having already graduated from university! We asked him why and he told us one of the scariest stories I've ever heard.
Jessie, have you heard about the killings of Tlatelolco plaza in Mexico City? Not a single newspaper or television station talked about it the day after it happened. I heard stories that I knew had to be true but were awful, and this man who had graduated from UNAM told us all that he was there in the plaza that day! I forget what they were protesting, I think it had something to do with the Olympics being held in México and the government lying to the world about the state of the republic. There were a lot of protestors out in Tlatelolco that day and most were students. The president ordered the military and police to open fire and apprehend the protestors. Students were being shot left and right. Dozens and dozens were being killed and hundreds more were running away from the plaza. I can't remember how many died but I think it was in the hundreds. All of the national media was threatened not to report on the massacre, and none of them did. But the several hundreds who survived told their stories to everyone. I had heard about the killings at Tlatelolco plaza, but I had not heard another piece that the UNAM graduate told us.
He said he was arrested by the police, along with many many more who protested that day. He told us that he was in jail for two weeks where he was beaten by either the military or police. Then a lot of the students were put onto planes and flown over the Gulf of México. He told us that everyone was blindfolded and had their hands tied behind their backs and that a man was walking down the aisle selecting every other prisoner to stand and go to the front of the plane. One-by-one, those who were chosen were pushed out of the plane at God-knows who high the altitude was into the gulf.
He told us that after this was over, their blindfolds were taken off and they were all threatened with the lives of their families and themselves and then all of their papers proving who they were and where they had gone to school were burned, and they were told that the records at their universities had been erased. They were then purposefully scattered all over México and were threatened not to ever return to the DF or to their native lands.
If the government had the power to do all of this and everyone seemed powerless to keep it from happening, what were the rest of us to do? By the time we had heard this story the protests around the country had died down but were still active.
I'm sorry that i have taken more time talking about the political environment, Jessie, but since you have told me a lot about how factories in México mistreat women and my own readings into the history and politics of México now many years after I've lived there, the memories help me see things differently, a lot more different than how I saw them then.
In my next correspondence I will tell you about my experience working in a Mexican factory and then my experiences in the United States. Until then, take care.
Sincerely,
Delia Rodriguez Guerrero
Hola, Jessie, buenos días, gracias por tu carta, sería una placer como siempre, dedicarle algo de tiempo para contarte acerca de los aspectos de mi vida de los cuales me preguntastes.
I was born and raised on a ranch outside of Rio Bravo, Tamaulipas. I have several brothers and sisters, six sisters, two brothers, so there are nine of us. My father owned a small farm near Rio Bravo where we lived a great part of our lives. Like most of the uneducated landowners of northern México, my father traveled to Tamaulipas from Guanajuato when the government was offering free land to anyone who would use it. Coming from an agrarian, completely uneducated background, my father and mother made a small boxcart, and along with a mule to carry them, traveled to the border regions of Tamaulipas where they received a small landgrant and my father began growing maiz and sometimes sorghum.
I'm not sure exactly why the government was giving away free land. I am aware that most of northern México was not very populated at all in the beginning of the twentieth century, and I am not sure if the land giveaway was to spread out the population, or to create a racial barrier between the United States and México.
Whatever the case, our ranch, like many others, neighbored people that we knew. I suppose that my father either came to Rio Bravo because there was a relative who invited him or he began inviting family to get the landgrants beside his own ranch. A lot of families did this and it helped keep extended families together. There was something like a small village that was formed merely because of the way people chose to distance themselves from one another. Imagine a circle with a dot in the center. the dot represented the village of people and the rest of the circle represented the 'parcelas' the farmlands of each family which lied next to each other.
When the seasons came to start planting seed, the irrigation system was made so that each family would get a specific amount of time to use the water on their 'parcela', so depending on the time of day or night, everyone had to be ready to use the water available when the time came. That was definintely a period of hard word. All of my brothers and sisters worked on the 'parcela' from a young age. Maybe five or six years old is how old we were when we started working out on the 'parcela'.
I think my life has been full of hard work from such an early age. Nevertheless, I still went to school, along with all of my brothers and sisters. There were some families out in the ranches who did not take their kids to schools so that they could work instead. But this was supposed to be against the law and many were scared into having their kids go to school at least until they left secundaria (which is the US equivalent to middle school).
My fondest childhood memory of school was when I was very young. A man came to class who was an art teacher of some kind and told us that we were to draw a picture and the winner would win colored pencils and a sketchbook for drawing. I won the prize, and I still remember that I drew three little ducks in a pond. I was seven years old then, and I cannot forget how happy I was because living in a house with two rooms for eleven people (the rooms were the bedroom and the kitchen) and having to share a bed with six of my brothers and sisters, there was no money for small gifts, let alone shoes for primary school.
When I was about eleven years old, my father (who had become an alcoholic) decided to rent out the 'parcela' to another farmer, and we moved to the city of Rio Bravo. We built our house in Rio Bravo by ourselves. We paid some builders to lay the foundation for one room. My dad and brothers paid very close attention to how the builders made sure the floor was leveled and how they built it. Once they finished, my father paid and thanked them, then got my oldest brother, Gerardo to lead the rest of us on how to make the foundation for the rest of the house. All of us worked together, and we all built the house brick by brick in a part of town that was not well off by any means, but was just a little better than being completely poor.
As we went off to secundaria, my sisters and I began working by cleaning ladies homes and by doing other people's laundry. It was very little that we made, but it was enough to buy our school supplies, some fabric so we could make some clothes, or sometimes even store-bought clothes. I was a lot happier in the city because there was a little more to do, but I always felt self-conscious about having come from the ranch because of the perception of farmers as being ignorant.
I chose to go to prep school out of my own will, and so did a sister of mine, Elisama. This cost a lot more than public education did, but we both figured that an education was the only way to be led away from the darkness of our ignorance as farmers. She and I were both very idealist and we convinced ourselves to go on to prep school in spite of our families poverty because we wanted to have it pay off for the family in the future, or at least for ourselves. This was during the latter half of the 1960's when I went to preparatory school. And in the midst of so much social revolution, classes were cancelled very frequently. I remember students sometimes stopping peseras on one of their stops and forcing the driver out then telling everyone to support the protest or get out.
I had no idea exactly what the political issues were, and as destructive as a lot of the students were, I was not sure that they knew either. Students would burn cars or flip over busses, protest against the school or against the city government. I feared for my safety during my first year of prep school, and also a little robbed because most of the first year was spent striking against the school and not learning anything.
Jessie, I'm sorry that I'm getting a little bit off-topic from the questions you asked, but when I think of my educational history before I started working for the maquiladora, I think I really have to tell you about the protests and about the state of the country. I think it's so important, Jessie, because even though there are not revolts and protests like there used to be, the dangerous environment that these protesters were rioting against still exists to very large degree in México today....well, to be honest, since I have not lived and worked in México in about twenty years I can only speak about what I hear, but even when I worked there, I knew that there was reason to protest, I just did not feel safe when the protests became as violent as they frequently did.
My second year of prep school, there was a student whose name I've forgotten, who had already received his licensiatura (the equivalent of a Bachelor's) fron UNAM--probably the most prestigious university in all of México. He was in his twenties, but was in our prep school after having already graduated from university! We asked him why and he told us one of the scariest stories I've ever heard.
Jessie, have you heard about the killings of Tlatelolco plaza in Mexico City? Not a single newspaper or television station talked about it the day after it happened. I heard stories that I knew had to be true but were awful, and this man who had graduated from UNAM told us all that he was there in the plaza that day! I forget what they were protesting, I think it had something to do with the Olympics being held in México and the government lying to the world about the state of the republic. There were a lot of protestors out in Tlatelolco that day and most were students. The president ordered the military and police to open fire and apprehend the protestors. Students were being shot left and right. Dozens and dozens were being killed and hundreds more were running away from the plaza. I can't remember how many died but I think it was in the hundreds. All of the national media was threatened not to report on the massacre, and none of them did. But the several hundreds who survived told their stories to everyone. I had heard about the killings at Tlatelolco plaza, but I had not heard another piece that the UNAM graduate told us.
He said he was arrested by the police, along with many many more who protested that day. He told us that he was in jail for two weeks where he was beaten by either the military or police. Then a lot of the students were put onto planes and flown over the Gulf of México. He told us that everyone was blindfolded and had their hands tied behind their backs and that a man was walking down the aisle selecting every other prisoner to stand and go to the front of the plane. One-by-one, those who were chosen were pushed out of the plane at God-knows who high the altitude was into the gulf.
He told us that after this was over, their blindfolds were taken off and they were all threatened with the lives of their families and themselves and then all of their papers proving who they were and where they had gone to school were burned, and they were told that the records at their universities had been erased. They were then purposefully scattered all over México and were threatened not to ever return to the DF or to their native lands.
If the government had the power to do all of this and everyone seemed powerless to keep it from happening, what were the rest of us to do? By the time we had heard this story the protests around the country had died down but were still active.
I'm sorry that i have taken more time talking about the political environment, Jessie, but since you have told me a lot about how factories in México mistreat women and my own readings into the history and politics of México now many years after I've lived there, the memories help me see things differently, a lot more different than how I saw them then.
In my next correspondence I will tell you about my experience working in a Mexican factory and then my experiences in the United States. Until then, take care.
Sincerely,
Delia Rodriguez Guerrero
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