Magdaleno

Yep … that’s old news but still good news … over my left shoulder in my home office is a photo of President Roosevelt signing the Social Security Act. This photo belonged to Helen Rose Blake my mother-in-law who has since passed on. I love this photo almost as much as she did.

It reminds me of the battles ahead of us in health, immigration and LGBTQ legislation. And I want more pictures of presidents signing good legislation to put on my wall. However, nothing is given to us. We instead need to fight and fight hard for every bit of progress and justice. And as we move forward I hope we continue to chip away at the death penalty as we move towards total abolition.

Today we must keep our eyes on the prize …
And as the song sang by Bob Marley that reminds us.

GET UP STAND UP … STAND UP FOR YOUR RIGHTS

GET UP STAND UP … DON’T GIVE UP THE FIGHT

NOW FOR MY VIEW OF THE NEWS

a.    End of the year giving
b.    Sharing food with the first family
c.    Do you love me …
d.    Give someone something from your heart

END OF THE YEAR GIVING

I hope that you will consider giving a gift to my organization the SOCIAL JUSTICE FUND NW. anything that you give will be most appreciated … just go to our web page.

Know that you can make a difference…thank you…

TONIGHT I SHARED CHICKEN MOLE WITH THE FIRST FAMILY…sort of

Some friends brought me a bowl of chicken mole and rice which I heated up in the microwave and toasted some flour tortillas.. it was a cold day today so I had a long sleeved shirt that a wonderful photo of the first family on my chest.

During the course of the meal a bit of the mole sauce dripped down on to the first family … I did not clean it right away because I wanted them to enjoy this wonderful sauce…and I do believe that their smiles got bigger as the result of my sharing my meal with them..

DO YOU LOVE ME

A holiday story….

A Mexican-American (Chicano) Holiday Story…Las Animas, Colorado..1969…The Avila Family…Father Marcos Trinidad Avila, Mother Carmen Montez Avila…Both were immigrants to America
And all 12 children born in Las Animas ( the souls )Colorado.. 
The author leno/magdaleno is the first male and sixth child of the Avila Clan.
The story is about a brother named Mano and his stubborn streak.. (he gave his permission so that this story could be told)

FIRST, SOME HISTORY

Growing up poor in a large family is not always easy. The birthdays and holidays like Christmas are difficult times for children, especially when you are expecting a lot of gifts that never seem to materialize.. We never received the kinds of gifts that we heard that other children received. But we did get plenty of love, refried beans, home made tortillas, rice and tamales.. Not to mention the tasty hot green chili. And  all that is worth a lot. Christmas was an especially hard time since our parents often could only give us clothes (which we needed) and a stocking full of hard candy, nuts, and perhaps an orange or an apple. Getting the fruit was special given that fresh fruit was so expensive. And once in a great while you got a toy. not toys but a toy..one . uno .a single toy and that made us happy.

On many occasions we would wait until the schools let out for the holidays and then we would get the Christmas tree from the Memorial Elementary. The trees from that school were often too tall for our house, and we had to make them shorter..  there was always some tinsel paper left on them and this was good cause tinsel paper was expensive.. We would later decorate the tree with our old set of lights (some of the bulbs broken or worn out) but those working made their wonderful colored bubbles all night. Then we would add our own humble decorations made of paper, popcorn and cranberries tied together on strings. And at night we would turn off all the lights and it would be our piece of heaven, looking at the lights and listening to Christmas carols on the radio.

As a young child I always wondered why Santa didn’t deliver gifts to us the way he did the well to do Anglo kids… Maybe he was afraid to come into the Barrio .. Maybe he just didn’t like Mexicans or poor people.  Wesos ( Larry Gilliland, nick named wesos which should be spelled huesos/bones ) a poor white friend didn’t ever seem get much more than us…So maybe Santa just forgot all us poor folks. At least we had the home made tortillas and tamales which Wesos treasured and which we shared with him. Maybe the problem with Wesos is that he hung around with Mexicans instead of his own kind and that’s why Santa didn’t give him much. Here’s the problem. When you went back to grade school after the holidays  the class would have to participate in a show and tell, where students would talk about their Christmas.. and show off some of their toys.. One year it came to be my turn and I had nothing to offer..It had been a difficult year and my parents were not able to buy us much that Christmas… and I didn’t know how to explain the wonderful things that we did receive even if it wasn‘t a bunch of new toys.. I mean it was things like the love in our home and the wonderful singing at the Christmas Mass that year. Things that you don’t know how to explain when you are young. I didn’t  know what to say. It was a year when there were not many gifts to be found in our home. SO I LIED
yep … I told a big fat lie… fatter than most I had ever told.I got up in front of the class put out my chest and mentioned toys that were only dreams in my head and nothing my parents could afford. Then came the challenge..Leonard ( that’s what they called me then.. They changed Magadaleno to Leonard  so that they could call me a name they could pronounce) next week you bring in your gifts so that we can all see, implored the teacher.But but . I protested No buts about it…..just bring them to class and share with everyone. Okay… I whispered back

Now what is a child to do? It was bad enough being poor and here I had lied
and would soon lose mega face with the rest of the class. I decided that I would bring in some of the toys I had mentioned no matter what I had to do…  I made a plan about where I would get those items. The stores were pretty loose with their security in those days so I stole some of the toys. Others I took from the yards of more affluent children. Kids being kids they would leave their toys in their yards. I snatched some of those toys up after dark and later returned most of them once I had participated in the show and tell.

I blame the teacher and the school for me having lied and then stealing. During my senior year in high school, my mother took ill with her last pregnancy, ( the 12th child being Miguel) This was a hard pregnancy leaving her unable to work for many months, and my father being a farm worker had little or no chance of finding work during that winter. My mother in those days was a LPN a licensed practical nurse.

That year we became super dependent on the Welfare Department and their food commodities. We were one of the poorest 
families that year in OUR TOWN. One December Evening , close to Christmas, I hear some strange noises outside in our front yard and it sure didn’t sound like Santa and his trusty reindeer. Some of us looked out the living room window while others opened the front wooden door. There they were, about 20 of them,  all the well meaning , well intended, well to do white youth (many members of my senior class) with some adult sponsors in our yard and close to our front door singing their Christmas Carols. And with them they had baskets of food with a turkey and a variety of canned goods that we needed for a holiday dinner. We didn’t have much food in the house at that time and the Christmas dinner was going to be sparse.  Almost anyone would have welcomed this gesture. That was the first and last time those white folks ever came to our house.  I was angry that they would push our poverty in our faces. I was ashamed about being poor.

How dare they come to our house and humiliate us. At the time I was very angry.

Mom, I want those people off of our yard …I am going to tell them to leave ….I am going to throw their food in their faces. We may be poor but we don’t need the food from gringos/white folks. … No you are not going to do that my Mom said… Mom, I know that we are poor but we are not that poor . we don’t need their food and we surely don’t need them and their singing….. let me get rid of them..and I moved towards the door.. My mother stopped me and said No ….you will do nothing .. your sisters and brothers need this food and we are going to accept it and thank them… God bless them….Please Mom. I pleaded . I will never be able to go back to school and face them… I refuse to go back to high school and see them. They will make fun of me… I don’t want their food… My mom prevailed …. she, my dad and my siblings went out to thank them..and to accept the food. Later, once the carolers were gone my family went through the wonderful assortments of foods that were in the boxes. I protested and stuck to the beans and rice that year. I was angry and embarrassed.

When I went back to High School in January, I did not know how to behave around the students who came to our yard that Christmas ,sang the songs and brought the food. I finally realized that they were doing the right thing and that it did make my family happy.

In the end I never thanked them and they never mentioned it. Maybe someday (perhaps at a class reunion) I will let them know that the food was appreciated. Having gone through so many hard holidays I decided that when I had money I would buy for each of my family members a good Christmas gift. Something to make that day more special. I was given the opportunity in 1969 when I was about 23 years of age. I  had a good job working for COLORADO RURAL LEGAL SERVICES.

I saved up my money so that I could take gifts for my parents and the 6 siblings still at home. I wasn’t home much in those days since I was out trying to save the poor. And having some pretty exciting adventures being a radical Chicano.

The Christmas dinner had been planned for the 25th for about three in the afternoon. And my family had told me they were excited about my pending arrival. I had not been home for about three months.

That afternoon, I was late driving from Boulder to Las Animas (about 240 miles away). I finally got there and it was almost 4pm. I was on Chicano Time in a BIG WAY. Getting out of my 1968 blue GTO (a fast Pontiac sports car) I gathered the up the gifts under my arms and put in my coat pocket the special envelope with the money for my brother.

Manuel or Mano as he now likes to be called was going to get a very special gift from me.. He must of have been about 18 and very independent. I had placed a  holiday card with a $50 bill in it just for him. . I knew that he could use the money and that a $50 bill looked just beautiful. I was sure he would smile and thank me profusely. I barged into the room as the twins swirled around me taking me in their wake around the center of the living room, the other kids cried Leonard, Leonard! My parents smiled and I saw this great sea of Mexican food waiting on the table. Waiting for us to sit down and eat it. They were happy to see me ,and me, I was happy to be home. I hugged my mom, shook hands with my dad, giving him a half macho hug and began handing out the gifts to my sisters and brothers.  and then my parents…The last on my list was my brother Mano. He was then leader of the pack, being the oldest of the children still at home. He was just standing there looking at me and all of my intrusion. This was his territory and I was the visitor…Everyone was watching me as I made a big pronouncement with all the flair I could muster.

And last but not least I have a special gift for my brother… I did this in my best public announcers voice and then  handed him the envelope.  I stood there waiting for him to open it and then whoop it up and celebrate. Mano slowly opened the envelope , looked inside … closed it and handed it back to me..his dark face was most serious.. We were all stunned. ..What . but this is my gift . my Christmas gift to you ….I blurted out …And  handed it back..He tried to give it back to me but I stepped away also retreating my arms. ..It was then that he suddenly threw the envelope with the $50 in it  on the floor What you don’t want it? I shouted…/No… Mano deadpanned. I picked up the card with the $50 inside. Everyone was watching this unfolding drama with anticipation.. Knowing that both of us had bad tempers…and both were very stubborn…Listen ….it’s Christmas and this is my Christmas gift, I told him..Well I don’t want it.. he replied.

Oh Ya .. well nobody  refuses my  Christmas gifts.. Its Christmas and you are going to take…my gift and enjoy it…Like it or not
I don’t want it… he repeated. I tried to put it in his pocket and he pushed me away with both hands…It was then that things got out of hand. Before I knew it I had thrown him to the wood floor jumping on his chest and grabbing him by the front of his shirt… and soon my hands were on his throat …

I was pretty strong then and outweighed my brother by about 50 lbs. Everyone was screaming .. My mom and dad were yelling at me in Spanish and English for me to stop.

Stay out of this. I shouted out amongst the confusion of the moment…. Mano is taking my gift or I will hurt this Mexican.  By then I had a tight grip on his neck and was pounding his head against the wooden floor shouting to him that he had to take my gift, my Christmas gift.  My mom had taken up her Mickey Mantle stance and was beating me with the broom. Once I am angry I don’t feel much pain… I go into a blind rage… or did in those days…My brother finally eked out through his constricted throat I cant take your gift.

Why. Why.. I.. shouted into his red face.
He was already crying by this time.

Because I don’t know if you love me.

What???? I exclaimed…

I can’t take anything from you unless I know you love me

There I was on top of his chest my hands squeezing his neck ..And in a confused state I begin expressing my love to my younger brother ( me being a bit homophobic, at that time, thought that while it sure looked and sounded strange at the same time it sure felt good) I tried a thousand words and ways to say I LOVE YOU. But I think my eyes said It all for me and by then salty tears were running down both of my cheeks. Finally my brother gasped.. OKAY OKAY I NOW KNOW YOU LOVE ME… SO QUIT CHOKING ME
AND GET OFF OF MY CHEST.. I got up helping him to his feet .. we were both crying by then.. I gave him the longest of hugs and there were again smiles in the room. He then broke the embrace picked up the envelope took out the $50 and put the money in his wallet and then asked

DO YOU HAVE ANY MORE.??? And then we all laughed.

GIVE TO OTHERS

As we come to the end of the year we all know someone who is having a tough time.. might be the time for you to call, hug them if they are close or perhaps just share one of your smiles. We all have something to give.. and from your heart you can give more than once.

My best
Leno