Hispanic Fanatic

So I was standing in line to vote yesterday, and I was feeling cautiously optimistic. As it turned out, of course, I should have placed more emphasis on the “caution” than the optimism.

In any case, a woman exited the polling station and, perhaps brimming with civic pride after casting her ballot, spoke to all of who were waiting in line.

“Just remember,” she said. “Whether your candidate wins or loses, tomorrow we will still be the United States of America. And we all need to come together.”

And I thought her sentiment was nice — and also naïve and ridiculous.

After all, we have just elected a racist, misogynistic bully who will be the only president in history with no government or military experience, and who has total contempt for the US Constitution.

I mean, what could go wrong?

Well, for example, I wouldn’t be surprised if Trump’s first trip overseas ends with him snapping at Angela Merkel to go fix him a sandwich or he’ll nuke Germany.

Now, there are those who say that Trump’s obnoxious behavior will disappear once he is inaugurated. But saying Trump will calm down once he is in office is like saying your boyfriend will stop punching you once you get married.

Still, the country will survive this travesty. It is not the end of the world — well, hopefully not. And I’m sure many lessons about politics and progressivism and racism and delusion and class conflict and all the rest will illuminate us in the future.

And we have to imagine that this future will be brighter than today is.

Like most Americans, I’ve watched this election season with a combination of amazement, amusement, befuddlement, and stark terror.

After all, we are perilously close to electing a president who is openly racist and misogynistic, ignorant of the Constitution, fond of fascism, and quite possibly demented.

But you know who is not afraid of this development?

That’s right — my fellow Latinos.

You see, a recent poll found that despite Trump’s “harsh anti-immigration rhetoric throughout this year’s presidential campaign, Hispanics are less likely than either whites or blacks to strongly agree that they are afraid of what will happen if their candidate loses.”

Just 38% of Hispanics say they are worried about the outcome of the presidential election. In contrast, 53% of whites fear the outcome, while 64% of blacks are nervous that their choice won’t become president.

Breaking down the numbers further, 45% of native-born Hispanics are afraid of what will happen if their candidate loses, compared with 30% of Hispanic immigrants.

Now, this may seem odd, in that Hispanics are second only to Muslims as objects of loathing in this election. And Latino immigrants, in particular, should be jittery as hell about the possibility of a Trump presidency. And yet, Hispanic immigrants are among the least worried about what happens in November.

But it actually makes sense.

Think about it — when was the last time you heard a Latino say, “If my candidate loses, I’m moving to Canada”? We don’t make empty threats like that, possibly because so many of us have already endured tremendous hardships to get here to America, so we’re not going to pack up and flee just because some jerk becomes the chief executive.

Also, there’s that whole thing about Hispanics being more optimistic about the future, more confident about the American Dream (however one defines it), and in general, just happier about life.

So yes, despite my fascination (bordering on obsession) with this year’s election, I’m not really worried about the outcome. Oh, don’t get me wrong. A Trump presidency would be a disaster. However, despite what you’ve heard from commentators both respected and fringe-dwelling, electing that narcissist would not mean the end of civilization.

Throughout our history, we Americans have overcome war, civil unrest, and economic calamity. Just add “terrorism” to that list, and you’re talking about the last decade alone. And yet we’re still here.

Certainly, four years of a delusional, mean-spirited little man at the helm would be extremely harmful, but it’s not going to destroy us.

And if that isn’t an all-American, patriotic, can-do viewpoint, then I don’t know what is.

Yes, we’ve all been highly entertained by the chaos, comedy, bluster, and insanity of this year’s presidential campaign.

And perhaps no single concept illustrates the bizarre, parody-proof nature of this election more than Donald Trump’s plan to build a “big, beautiful wall” along the Mexican border.

This idea is hugely popular with his base, many of whom are rather overt about their preferences for a certain type of skin hue. But other supposedly rational people are onboard with this proposal. Its simplicity speaks to them: “It will keep out all the illegals!”

So John Oliver recently devoted a segment on his show to how realistic Trump’s wall really is.

Just to summarize his findings, it seems that the wall would cost $25 billion to construct, and billions more per year in maintenance costs.

But that’s not our problem — right? Because Trump is going to make the Mexican government pay for it.

Well, the Mexicans themselves have no intention of spending money on this xenophobic folly, and we have no real way to make them do so.

Except of course, if we go to war over it, which Trump has not ruled out.

Naturally, we have to ask if this wall thing is really fighting about.

Well, building a wall presupposes that America is being overrun by… well, you know who.

But in that place called reality, immigration of all types — legal or illegal — is down. In fact, “the number of immigrants living in the U.S. illegally is at its lowest number in more than a decade.”

And despite all the fear, hatred, and blame thrown at undocumented people for their supposed killing and raping, the truth is that “immigrants are less, not more, crime prone than their native-born counterparts.”

So the wall would be a drastic solution to a problem that is overblown in the first place, and that is resolving itself.

Thus, the bottom line is this series of questions:

Do you really think the United States can force Mexico to pay for a wall?

If not, do you believe we should go to war —literally killing Mexicans and sacrificing American troops — over this?

If not, are you willing to cough up $25 billion (just to start) to construct this thing?

If so, are you aware that illegal immigration is down and undocumented immigrants are actually less prone to crime?

If so, are you aware that a wall will be of limited usefulness and not stop people who are truly determined to come here?

Answering these questions brings us to a pair of incontrovertible conclusions.

If you support the idea of a wall, you are possibly a racist.

But if you honestly believe a huge wall is going up in your lifetime — regardless of who is elected president — you are either delusional or actively stupid.

Now that’s simplicity.

So for two years in a row, the top individual prize in the entertainment pantheon — the Oscar for best director — has gone to a Latino.

That’s great. And Mexican auteur Alejandro González Iñárritu took time in his speech to give a shout out to immigrants, which was classy.

But of course, much of González Iñárritu’s triumph was overshadowed by a truly tone-deaf chiste from that master of humor, Sean Penn (as an aside, is there any artist who is more respected but less liked than this guy?).

Now, González Iñárritu has pointed out that Penn’s comment was an inside joke between friends. We’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, then, and say that Penn isn’t a straight-up racist.

But perhaps inside jokes aren’t a very good idea when millions of people across the planet are watching. And maybe tossing racial jabs isn’t very bright when you’re representing an organization that is hypersensitive about its horrible record on diversity.

All Penn’s joke did was make every white liberal in the audience uncomfortable, confirm the bias that many ethnic minorities believe lurks within the system, and “underscore the problem the Motion Picture Academy of Arts and Sciences has been trying desperately to disprove.” Namely, that the Academy has a racial issue.

The stunning lack of diversity in the entertainment industry is a well-known facet of American culture, and I’ve written about it more than once.

And it is not, as many right-wingers seem to think, just blacks and Latinos clamoring for jobs they haven’t earned. It’s about equal access and opportunity. One could argue this is all that any fight over civil rights is, at its core.

But when it comes to the entertainment industry, specifically, it is about something more. As González Iñárritu has proved, different perspectives lead to new ideas and new stories. It is essential for any art form that, to remain relevant, it continue to grow.

And to be blunt, there are only so many more movies that we can take about an upper-class white family gathering together for a funeral/wedding, or a white guy’s attempt to bond with his elderly and uncommunicative dad, or the adventures of white prep-school kids coming of age.

We want something else.

You have to give credit where it’s due. Not many Americans still have the cojones, the chutzpah, the gall, if you will, to make blatantly racist statements in public settings and think they can get away with it.

But recently, a board member at San Jose State University’s philanthropy board had just enough gumption to blurt out the following: “Latina students do not have the DNA to be successful.”

Now, the woman didn’t dance around or mutter code words or qualify her beliefs. She said this during a meeting with other campus bigwigs, and she made it clear that, in her esteemed opinion, there is a genetic predisposition to failure, something encoded in the chromosomes and immutable, that makes Latinas dumber or lazier or whatever contributes to personal disaster. You have to admire the clarity of thought and confidence in her stand.

Or you could just say that she is a plain old racist with a very highly developed sense of entitlement.

In any case, she was forced to resign (i.e., they fired her ass) when the comments came out. Oh, and a vice president who was at the meeting and didn’t challenge her remarks also got canned.

But you have to forgive the woman. Maybe she has some bad genes that cause her to spew idiotic, bigoted statements in public.

Yes, it’s pretty sad.

By now you’ve heard GOP Rep. Steve King (a longtime friend of the Hispanic community) insist that “among young undocumented immigrants in the United States, ‘for everyone who’s a valedictorian, there’s another 100 out there who’” are essentially drug mules.

King, “an Iowa conservative who has come under fire for comments about immigrants before,” has stood by his remarks, insisting that he has “seen it with my eyes and watched the data and video that support what I say.”

I think we would all like to see the video that shows 100 Latino drug mules ganging up on one Hispanic valedictorian. That would indeed be persuasive to the immigration debate.

But all these references to mules have me thinking about another anti-immigration zealot who was obsessed with animals. I’m taking about Cordelia Scaife May, an heiress who, “before her death in 2005, devoted much of her wealth to … curbing immigration, both legal and illegal.”

Scaife May “never knew poverty,” unlike so many of the immigrants she despised. Ultimately, she became a crazy recluse and alcoholic. She also was obsessed with birds.

Her millions continue to fund right-wing anti-immigrant groups to this day. So here we have a rich person who never worked a day in her life. She was a virulent xenophobe and racist who held her fellow humans in contempt simply because they were born in another country. But she had a soft spot for the little birdies.

And who can argue with those priorities?

Basically, some conservatives don’t think of Hispanics as animals. They think of Hispanics as less than animals.

Here’s a quick thanks to Mel for his comment on my most recent post.

Before that article, I wrote about how the words “racism” and “racist” are tossed around a little too freely in America. I’ve been on the receiving end a few times, and I’ve also noticed that my posts (here, on HuffPo, and at Change.org) sometimes provoke readers to unload the word at each other.

Really, some of the threads beneath my articles – despite people’s insistence of principled claims and frequent use of SAT vocabulary words – are really little more than back-and-forth versions of “I know you are, but what am I?”

To continue reading this post, please click here.

I want to thank Susan A for her recent comments on my post. I’ll also thank DSewell, even though his comment consisted of calling me “nothing but a racist” and launching into an angry diatribe about Los Angeles and Hispanics in general. Why so tense, Mr. DSewell?

Let’s all lighten up. I’ll return to a topic I’ve addressed in the past – namely, my fumbling attempts to relearn Spanish. As I’ve written before, I was semi-fluent at one point, but lack of practice has dropped me to intermediate level at best.

Like every language, Spanish has its fair share of untranslatable phrases and idioms. For example, a few years ago, my mom and my aunt were speaking in Spanish. My mother let loose with a comment that made them both laugh.

Naturally, I asked what she had said. My mother informed me that, strictly translated, the phrase translated into something like “Your stepbrother’s bus is driven by a rage-filled monkey with pneumonia. And he’s very punctual, if you know what I mean.”

Yes, it all makes sense now.

Of course, it’s not just the quirks and exceptions that are frustrating to learners. It’s the faulty translations that well-meaning individuals foist upon the rest of us.

To give you an egregious example, recently I saw a sign outside a nightclub. The sign read, “You must be twenty-one years old to enter.” The very helpful Spanish translation beneath it read, “Necesita tener veinte y uno anos para entrar.”

There was just one problem. The “n” in the word “anos” was missing a tilde, the punctuation mark better known to English speakers as “that wavy line thingy above the letter.” The absence of this diacritical mark altered the sentence’s meaning, just a little.

Instead of saying, “You must be twenty-one years old to enter,” the sign read, “You must possess twenty-one assholes to enter.”

I think we can all agree that even the most determined club-goer is unlikely to achieve this high standard. We can further agree that few doormen or bouncers would be eager to check patrons to verify their adherence to the club’s policy.

I propose a system. Before anyone is allowed to translate anything into Spanish, they must demonstrate their proficiency by repeating the following tongue-twister at a fast rate, and then explaining what it means:

R con R cigarro

R con R barril

rápido corren los carros

cargados de azúcar del ferrocarril

I heard this little ditty a lot growing up. My mother said it often, and then watched amused as I, and the other American-born members of the family, tried in vain to master it. I still can’t do it, but at least I know that it has something to with railroad cars filled with sugar travelling at a high rate of speed.

No, it doesn’t make sense. But then again, when was the last time you saw someone selling seashells by the seashore?

My point – exactly.