Grandma You're Just Too Liberal and Educated
Wow it's been a while since I wrote last. Sorry about that to the very few of you who read this regularly. A little update, I tried writing a number time about this, a very good friend of mine, Christopher Salazar, 22, Died last Sunday November 18th, at about 2 am. He was a good man, who was very politically charged, energetic, and kind. The best thing about Chris was the fact that he was truly generous, with his energy, his resources and most of all his caring. He took care of everyone before himself, and was never remiss about any of it. He will be sorely missed by myself and the many others, his friends in DC his colleagues at HRC, his family and friends here in New Mexico Santa Fe , he went to American University in DC, got a job at HRC and had been there for 4 years, was anxiously awaiting an opportunity to move back to NM, hoping that the Madrid
Now on to the less somber tones. I went toAlamogordo Santa Fe Alamogordo
I took the movie CRASH home with me, as I have been taking it almost everywhere, and I showed it to my grandmother.
Background:
Grandma is in her late 60s, grew up on a ranch, in a ranching family. Joyce Powell, Smith was her maiden name. Good times I have with my grandma, always! My grandmother grew up racist as is humanly possible, sexist beyond belief, and incredibly homophobic (goes with the territory) married and divorced my mother's father very young, and then married my grandfather a few years later. My grandfather was Southern Baptist, the only things on the planet worse than "blacks"(insert N word here they never called them blacks) was Messcans(i guess that how you would spell what they said. The only thing worse than a mouthy woman who didn't do her duty was a damned queer who didn't know his place was a hole in the ground and a headstone. The only thing worse than non-Christian were Catholics (the devils breed of "Christianity" if you could call it Christianity.
Now its important to note my Grandmother is not this person any longer.
She is proud of her gay Chicano grandson, and is an advocate of sorts, defending me to all her friends and family endlessly. She loves her half-African American granddaughter and the two kids that very young beautiful woman has brought into the world.
She is a Democrat! Proud to be one. A Conservative Democrat she says...
Gay Marriage ought to be legal she says, because there's no one being hurt by it. Abortion, legal at all costs, and not just abortion but sex education, and birth control. Socialism will be the downfall of eastern society she says, as she calls for a government regulation of profit margins on corporations, all of them. She thinks the gov't ought to take over businesses and make money off of them, like liquor sales and cigarettes. She drives to Mescalero to purchase cigarettes, was doing that before the new tobacco taxes, she does it because they are good people who need money, Indians, and they make all natural totally safe tobacco. (I obviously have a problem with taking a full size truck 45 miles up a mountain and purchasing cigarettes she thinks are totally safe, but hey, its great!)
Grandma liked, Crash, she cried a bit, she laughed a bit, but mostly she was astonished. She looked at me and said, all these years I never realized how much racism there is in the world. And I think about the things we sued to say and do in front of you kids, and how that must have made you feel, being people of color (she inserts the words "so called" in front of people of color, she isn't sure she understands the terms)
She recalls the year she and my mother went to Georgia to visit friends, my grandmother came home with a confederate flag. She was in love with the Southern culture, she didn't see the link to slavery, she just assumed, you know, that slavery was over and the world has moved past that. She was a little upset when my African American cousin took the flag down, and how hurt she was when she was called racist by myself and my cousin for bringing the flag back home to begin with. We all had a lot to learn, I saw rebel flag and thought slavery, she saw rebel flag and thought, big dresses, scarlet, and sweet tea.
She told me about how we were all at the family reunion of her side of the family, the summer after graduated. I had been accepted to UNM (who isn't?) and had sent in my housing arrangements and such. She was worried, as was the rest of my family, I was the only one to leave at such a young age, the first to go to college, and you knowAlbuquerque
She was sharing her fears with a good friend of the family, Sonya, and said "I just hope he doesn't end up getting stuck in a room with one of those Gays." Well Grandma later learned I was getting a single room all to myself, and yet I was still living her fear, stuck in a room with one of those Gays. She felt so embarrassed at Sonya's response, "well Joyce, what if he does?"
Grandma had to go back to her camp trailer on the lake and cry a little bit, thinking, "when did I become a bigot?"
Grandma isn't a bigot, it's not possible my grandmother has too much love. She slips occasionally into the language and thoughts driven by anger, the term spic slipped out of her lips once over a thanksgiving dinner. She started crying with her back to me before turning around to see the look on my face which was a mimic of the look my mom gives us kids when we are in trouble, which she learned from my grandmother. She apologized, we talked about it, I've never heard her use that word again, but in fairness she had never used it before either.
Why this randomness about my Grandmother you ask? Well she said to me Saturday night after us having spent the thanksgiving holiday with family, that she was disappointed in her family.
She stayed at her sisters house late into the evening, playing dominos with our cousins and aunts and uncles and such, and they were being who they are. Kindly put, they are still rednecks. They still live in the tiny town on the lake, and they still think people of color aren’t' as good as white people. My cousin David still thinks he can spot a faggot from a mile away and beat the shit out of him in a heartbeat. I've never been hit by David, maybe I need to stand a mile away from him first...
My grandma said, "Marshall
Grandma had finally realized what it was to be me. Coming home for a holiday, and thinking "I don't belong to these people, this family. I am out of place here. I see a homeless man in need of drugs I think addiction and pain, they think useless trash."
My grandmother finally called someone out on their slurs, her sister in fact. Betty had said something about those stupid black people inNew Orleans
I'm a woman, with nothing but minorities for grandchildren. I've always been a hard worker, a kind person and an understanding friend. But I can't be kind or understanding to you any longer. You don't live in the 1950s and this isn'tLittle Rock Arkansas Albuquerque , who calls himself Chicano, and she was just rambling on about how hard it is to get a job in Alamogordo
Now you all have a chance to grow up, and into the world, live like the rest of us, happy, and caring, kind, loving, and passionate about something. Or you can all be hermits of the old fashioned bigotry and hatred world you miss so much, but if you choose that, well hell, you're not much good to me anymore.
The only response to all of this was simple:
Joyce, That Marshall has just made you too Liberal, and you think you're educated. You've forgotten the real education you got growing up, right and wrong, good and bad, God fearing behaviors. Joyce, let it go, and remember what Daddy Fred taught you...
Ha Ha Ha, well Grandma, damn if I’m not happy to hear it! You're just too liberal!!!
(Now when will you finally move to the left on the immigration and marijuana issues? For God's sakes!!!)
Now on to the less somber tones. I went to
I took the movie CRASH home with me, as I have been taking it almost everywhere, and I showed it to my grandmother.
Background:
Grandma is in her late 60s, grew up on a ranch, in a ranching family. Joyce Powell, Smith was her maiden name. Good times I have with my grandma, always! My grandmother grew up racist as is humanly possible, sexist beyond belief, and incredibly homophobic (goes with the territory) married and divorced my mother's father very young, and then married my grandfather a few years later. My grandfather was Southern Baptist, the only things on the planet worse than "blacks"(insert N word here they never called them blacks) was Messcans(i guess that how you would spell what they said. The only thing worse than a mouthy woman who didn't do her duty was a damned queer who didn't know his place was a hole in the ground and a headstone. The only thing worse than non-Christian were Catholics (the devils breed of "Christianity" if you could call it Christianity.
Now its important to note my Grandmother is not this person any longer.
She is proud of her gay Chicano grandson, and is an advocate of sorts, defending me to all her friends and family endlessly. She loves her half-African American granddaughter and the two kids that very young beautiful woman has brought into the world.
She is a Democrat! Proud to be one. A Conservative Democrat she says...
Gay Marriage ought to be legal she says, because there's no one being hurt by it. Abortion, legal at all costs, and not just abortion but sex education, and birth control. Socialism will be the downfall of eastern society she says, as she calls for a government regulation of profit margins on corporations, all of them. She thinks the gov't ought to take over businesses and make money off of them, like liquor sales and cigarettes. She drives to Mescalero to purchase cigarettes, was doing that before the new tobacco taxes, she does it because they are good people who need money, Indians, and they make all natural totally safe tobacco. (I obviously have a problem with taking a full size truck 45 miles up a mountain and purchasing cigarettes she thinks are totally safe, but hey, its great!)
Grandma liked, Crash, she cried a bit, she laughed a bit, but mostly she was astonished. She looked at me and said, all these years I never realized how much racism there is in the world. And I think about the things we sued to say and do in front of you kids, and how that must have made you feel, being people of color (she inserts the words "so called" in front of people of color, she isn't sure she understands the terms)
She recalls the year she and my mother went to Georgia to visit friends, my grandmother came home with a confederate flag. She was in love with the Southern culture, she didn't see the link to slavery, she just assumed, you know, that slavery was over and the world has moved past that. She was a little upset when my African American cousin took the flag down, and how hurt she was when she was called racist by myself and my cousin for bringing the flag back home to begin with. We all had a lot to learn, I saw rebel flag and thought slavery, she saw rebel flag and thought, big dresses, scarlet, and sweet tea.
She told me about how we were all at the family reunion of her side of the family, the summer after graduated. I had been accepted to UNM (who isn't?) and had sent in my housing arrangements and such. She was worried, as was the rest of my family, I was the only one to leave at such a young age, the first to go to college, and you know
She was sharing her fears with a good friend of the family, Sonya, and said "I just hope he doesn't end up getting stuck in a room with one of those Gays." Well Grandma later learned I was getting a single room all to myself, and yet I was still living her fear, stuck in a room with one of those Gays. She felt so embarrassed at Sonya's response, "well Joyce, what if he does?"
Grandma had to go back to her camp trailer on the lake and cry a little bit, thinking, "when did I become a bigot?"
Grandma isn't a bigot, it's not possible my grandmother has too much love. She slips occasionally into the language and thoughts driven by anger, the term spic slipped out of her lips once over a thanksgiving dinner. She started crying with her back to me before turning around to see the look on my face which was a mimic of the look my mom gives us kids when we are in trouble, which she learned from my grandmother. She apologized, we talked about it, I've never heard her use that word again, but in fairness she had never used it before either.
Why this randomness about my Grandmother you ask? Well she said to me Saturday night after us having spent the thanksgiving holiday with family, that she was disappointed in her family.
She stayed at her sisters house late into the evening, playing dominos with our cousins and aunts and uncles and such, and they were being who they are. Kindly put, they are still rednecks. They still live in the tiny town on the lake, and they still think people of color aren’t' as good as white people. My cousin David still thinks he can spot a faggot from a mile away and beat the shit out of him in a heartbeat. I've never been hit by David, maybe I need to stand a mile away from him first...
My grandma said, "
Grandma had finally realized what it was to be me. Coming home for a holiday, and thinking "I don't belong to these people, this family. I am out of place here. I see a homeless man in need of drugs I think addiction and pain, they think useless trash."
My grandmother finally called someone out on their slurs, her sister in fact. Betty had said something about those stupid black people in
I'm a woman, with nothing but minorities for grandchildren. I've always been a hard worker, a kind person and an understanding friend. But I can't be kind or understanding to you any longer. You don't live in the 1950s and this isn't
Now you all have a chance to grow up, and into the world, live like the rest of us, happy, and caring, kind, loving, and passionate about something. Or you can all be hermits of the old fashioned bigotry and hatred world you miss so much, but if you choose that, well hell, you're not much good to me anymore.
The only response to all of this was simple:
Joyce, That Marshall has just made you too Liberal, and you think you're educated. You've forgotten the real education you got growing up, right and wrong, good and bad, God fearing behaviors. Joyce, let it go, and remember what Daddy Fred taught you...
Ha Ha Ha, well Grandma, damn if I’m not happy to hear it! You're just too liberal!!!
(Now when will you finally move to the left on the immigration and marijuana issues? For God's sakes!!!)
posted by Marshall at 2:45 PM
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