From a Farm Owner to a Bracero
Excitement and adrenaline ran through my body as I stood before the wide, white doors that lead into my grandparent’s house in a small farm town called Jose Maria Morelos in Durango, Mexico. It was a beautiful, sunny, December evening; warm enough to just wear a light sweatshirt, not like the December evenings in Minnesota where you need Eskimo attire to go outside. It has been a family tradition to go every winter break, leaving Minnesota behind in an avalanche of snow. Jose Maria Morelos, called La Bajada by the locals, including myself, is a small thriving farm town that has a young spirit when it comes to culture and friendliness. What once boomed with agriculture and farm animals, now stands as a visiting town on vacation days and a ghost town the rest of the year. My Grandpa left this charming town and his family for the demand in the working tomato fields in California around World War II. Just as my Grandpa provided food, shelter, and protection as the head of the family, his responsibility was to give his family the best he could. This concept is described perfectly by Jacqueline Goodman, a professor of sociology as, “ men come north and leave their families in Mexico, they are fulfilling masculine obligations defined as the breadwinner of the family” (320). My Grandpa, a hardheaded man, with a straightforward mindset decided to leave and come to the United States according to my Grandma. Although she had some doubts and concerns, she finally agreed because after all, she loved him (interview).
As I turned the cold, weathered gold knob, I stepped into the main living room, where the spacious room had a thin cloud of dust covering the furniture. Small cobwebs on the corners assured that the place had been abandoned for a few years. The ornaments and portraits still in the same places, served as a remembrance of the past. The icy December air lingered in the room, but as soon as my mom started the wood stove, little by little the warm, smoky air
As I turned the cold, weathered gold knob, I stepped into the main living room, where the spacious room had a thin cloud of dust covering the furniture. Small cobwebs on the corners assured that the place had been abandoned for a few years. The ornaments and portraits still in the same places, served as a remembrance of the past. The icy December air lingered in the room, but as soon as my mom started the wood stove, little by little the warm, smoky air
Cited: Burciaga, Maria. Telephone Interview. February 2, 2013. Estabrook, Barry. Tomatoland: How Modern Industrial Agriculture Destroyed Our Most Alluring Fruit. Kansas City: Andrews McMeel, 2011. Print. Goodman, Jacqueline, ed. Global Perspective On Gender & Work. Lanhand, Maryland: Rowman & Littlefield, 2010. Print. Mitchell, Don. "La Casa De Esclavos Modernos : Exposing the Architecture of Exploitation." Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 74.4 (2012): 448-61. JSTOR. Web. 05 Feb. 2013. Rosas, Ana Elizabeth. "Breaking The Silence: Mexican Children And Women 's Confrontation Of Bracero Family Separation, 1942-64." Gender & History 23.2 (2011): 382-400. Academic Search Premier. Web. 15 Feb. 2013. Vargas, Zaragosa. Crucible of Struggle: A History of Mexican Americans from Colonial times to the Present Era. New York: Oxford UP, 2010. Print.