Ethnic Avenue – The Street That Crosses All the Others

Archive for the ‘Latinos’ Category

Everybody knows that American jails are disproportionately packed with Latinos and blacks. But unlike my asshole Republican ex-boss, I think there are more sophisticated reasons, beyond “they commit most of the crimes,” behind this statistical phenomenon. One of those reasons is pretty obvious.

Our legal system is set up to detect and penalize certain types of crime over other types. There are no white-collar crime regulators driving around 24/7 in patrol cars with sirens–or setting up check points on the highway–to catch people in the act of insider trading or tax evasion or selling junk securities. Sure, agencies exist that are supposed to catch that stuff, but they aren’t on every street corner, and the mayor doesn’t go on TV every few months to talk about how he’s putting 2,000 more regulators on the force by next year. There’s no trained dog they can bring to your office to sniff out your illegal white-collar shenanigans.

So it’s automatically more likely that you’re going to get caught committing some sort of street crime. Then, when they do catch someone for that, the punishments for those types of crimes tend to be longer jail sentences than for the other things. You get a lot more time for stealing $20 from a liquor store than for counterfeiting $20 million Picasso paintings. That’s just a fact. And, minorities tend to commit the easier crimes because it takes a few generations of enfranchisement to get access to high-class, low-risk, lucrative, white-collar crimes we would all love to be committing.

That’s the first reason.

But, now the NY Times is saying something that I’ve been saying for years. Statistically speaking, Latinos and blacks also just act more suspiciously–at least in New York.

Blacks and Latinos were nine times as likely as whites to be stopped by the police in New York City in 2009, but no more likely to actually be arrested. Of the reasons listed by the police for conducting the stops…the most common reason listed by the police was a category known as “furtive movements.”

Furtive movements. In case you don’t know idiotic police-speak, that’s a five-dollar euphemism for acting sneaky and suspicious. And, that’s kind of annoying, because that’s a natural condition of living in the city in general, but especially of living in the ghetto. There’s a certain amount of constant, mutual suspicion in the hood–nobody really trusts anyone (and shouldn’t). So, naturally, people there (namely, blacks and Latinos) are going to act sneaky and suspicious most of the time, even when they’re not “up to something.” You can’t help it.

A black or Latino dude strutting across the street in a hoodie and shades (at night)–while looking over his shoulder–is probably just as likely to be scared of something than to be doing something scary. But, of course, to a blue-collar street-crime police force, set up to look for only that type of sneakiness, behavior like that is worthy of a pat-down.

Maybe it should be that way. But, what if we also had a white-collar police walking the streets, like I’m asking for: who would look suspicious to them?

Officer, I didn't do anything wrong. What do you mean I was "acting suspicious"?! Get your hands off me. I know my rights!

The big thing in the news these days is an Arizona state bill, signed into law by appointed hag-governor Jan Brewer (see below), that basically requires regular-ass police officers to go around asking people for proof of citizenship if “it looks like they could be illegal.” I’m not making this up. What’s more, if police don’t do their (new) job, they can be sued by regular people for not enforcing the law.

Frankly, I don’t like chiming in on things this mainstream because pretty much anything that can be said about a topic like this gets said in the first few minutes, and I tend to be slow. So that means, invariably, I’m left unintentionally repeating the same shit some other guy said. This is the reason I didn’t say much about the whole Tiger Woods harem thing (except about his disappointingly cheap taste in sandwiches), the “balloon boy” story, and the healthcare reform “debate.”

Forget, for a minute, the coincidence that the illegal-immigrant debate seems to always come up in election years, especially ones in which Republicans are in the minority (i.e., out of power) and are hoping to make some gains by lathering up the masses about issues they don’t ever intend to solve—simply recycle the next time they need something to work people up with. Also forget the fact that you could solve the problem pronto by simply enforcing the laws that already exist, and throwing the CEO of any company that hires an illegal immigrant in jail for a few years.  (Like when you also throw the John in jail, not just the prostitute.)

I assure you, a lot of people would be leaving if no one would hire them. But of course that would hurt millionaires and billionaires and corporations, who benefit from cheap illegal labor that undercuts unions and their ridiculous demands for fair pay and benefits and the occasional vacation day. Remember: it was the conservative messiah, Ronald Reagan, that passed the largest amnesty for illegal immigrants in American history (1986), making millions of “illegals” legal overnight. He hated unions.

I could go on. But this isn’t about that.

This is about the question of what an illegal immigrant looks like, since that’s now become an important part of the dialogue on this issue. You can’t profile people by their race, because that would illegal. So these guys are handling that sticky question in a couple of interesting ways.

On the one hand are the right-wingers that claim to not know what an illegal looks like at all, deferring to the “professionals” in this arena.

Exhibit A

Then there are the ones that say they can tell, but with all sorts of other indicators apart from race. Definitely not race.

Exhibit B

Look guys, I know spotting an illegal immigrant (or at least a potentially illegal immigrant) without resorting to racial profiling isn’t easy for the untrained eye. But years of living in the great City of Los Angeles–the mecca for Guatemalan, Vietnamese, El-Salvadorian, Mexican, Ethiopian, and every other variety of immigrant you could dream up–has giving me a keen sense of what else to look for.

I know I may be hurting my ethnic brothers and sisters, but here’s a simple guide for you guys. Pay me back with what you do best–some tax breaks and exotic pyramid-scheme-like investment vehicles.

Right-Wingers’ Quick Guide to Spotting Illegal Immigrants

General FOB-ness

This is what the idiot in the second video above (Rep. Brian Bilbray) was dancing around, but couldn’t—or wouldn’t–articulate. Everyone knows when they’re dealing with someone that just “ain’t right.” It’s like when you spot an unseasonably pale (but straight) white guy, wearing a mesh tank-top and John Stockton coochie shorts, exposing his wickedly hairy legs (and, in some unfortunate cases, some of his junk) in the middle of Los Angeles. European, right? You bet.

Or like when you see a white girl in Teva­ sandals, shorts, a fleece vest, and a Nalgene bottle hanging from her outdoorsy backpack in the middle of your city. Unless you’re in a certain region or two of the country, you know she’s an unassimilated transplant.

John Stockton and his now-infamous shorts.

Similarly, people that haven’t properly integrated into the American Way of Life are going to telegraph that shit from a mile away. Mixing up our treasured clichés. Calling dollar bills notes. Singularizing plurals (Starbuck Coffee). Wearing a cowboy hat and mustache.

Every race and ethnicity has its unique set of FOB dead-giveaways. Learn them.

Broke-Asses

Seriously, when was the last time you saw a rich illegal immigrant (that wasn’t a king-pin in a movie)? I’m sure they exist, but they’re not the ones mowing your neighbor’s lawn or standing outside the Home Depot. Being poor is definitely a sign.

Brown

Let’s face it guys: you’re going to have to use some tangential indicator of race to pluck out the illegal immigrants you want to actually get rid of (the south-of-the-border variety). The great thing is that using color isn’t necessarily using race. Brown is generally a good start, but combine that with broke-ass and FOB, and you have yourself a good candidate.

A good candidate.

I don’t know what’s going on, but the Los Angeles Times is quickly becoming the leading source for fish-out-of-water stories about privileged white girls crossing paths with poor, ethnic people. The latest installment in the transformation is this story about how two brave “journalists” (one writer and one photographer) decided to–just to see what happens–move into one of those apartments packed densely with several families of FOB Central American and/or Mexican immigrants, in a torn-up neighborhood.

They’re posting their results in a series of minimalist, urban-blight-stylized “journal entries” on their website, strangely reminiscent of every old-warehouse-turned-fancy-clothing-store in the gentrified areas of the city near you.

Intrepid White Girls, Devin Browne and Kara Mears (Photo Credit: LA Times)

Even though I partially agree with each of the major criticisms leveled against these two, I also feel sort of bad for them because people are dog piling on them unfairly. “Oh, it’s culturally condescending.” “This isn’t journalism” (which they readily admit up front on their website). “The LA Times is perpetuating (immigrant, Latino, illegal immigrant) stereotypes by giving these two chicks a forum.” And so on and so forth.

Even though, to me, this whole project smells of a reconnaissance mission into fresh gentrification territory, I’m still giving these chicks a pass on the whole interloper argument. It’s not a bad idea to drop some white girls into strange, foreign situations to see what happens and, then, report it as news. Of course, it doesn’t work with every type of white girl. It’s only interesting if you mix ultra-white girl types or–as in this case–semi-arty, wannabe creative types that are more privileged and out-of-touch than they realize, and are always looking for opportunities to re-enact that semester abroad they did in college.

So, I say, let’s see more of it.

Off the top of my head, here are a few overlooked, exotic Latino situations I’d like to suggest to other intrepid white girls looking for a “project”:

Gringa Butcheress (Carnicera)

The butcher (carnicero) is an important character in Latino life, on the order of a Catholic priest or the host of Sabado Gigante. But behind-the-counter is generally a man’s domain. Imagine the high-jinks of having a white girl or two running the place.

Guess what: I hear we're being replaced by some gringas.

White Girl Ice-Cream Cart Operator (Paletera), Mexican Corn Vendor (Elotera), or Side-of-the-Road Fruit-Bag Seller (Frutera)

If you’ve been to any major U.S. city in the South or Southwest, you’re familiar with (or even have a taste for) the ambulant foods of the hood. On any given day, you can get a bounty of south-of-the-border favorites, from the condiment-heavy “crazy corn,” to a bag of peanuts, all for around a dollar. Why not have a white girl operate one of those small businesses for a year and get a tan and a good project in the process?

This is generally how I push the cart, ladies.

Balloon and Toy White-Girl

The advantage to this one is that—in addition to the others’ benefits–you also get an upper-body workout. The main problem is that it’s hard to text your friends and take documentary-style pictures while you’re carrying that heavy-ass pole, so this is definitely a two-girl job.

This will look better in black and white.

Sooner or later, everyone encounters one of those fat guys that thinks his girth automatically makes him tough or, worse, that his fatness is roughly equivalent to being muscular.

Sadly, there’s wide pandemic of this type of wannabe-tough-guy asshole in the urban Latino and black communities, a problem I attribute largely to the popularity of football, which rewards a few linebackers–with little more ability than that of clogging up space–with the largely undeserved labels of “tough” and “athletic.”

I usually ride back here.

It’s pretty easy to know when you’re dealing with one of these idiots. For one, they’re enormous. They waddle around, often in some sort of sports gear, trying hard to look hard. And, they’re one of the more likely candidates to diagnose your staring problem. If he’s assumed any position of authority–however minor–rest assured that he fully, and regularly, trips on his power. Think bouncers, the occasional bus driver, and–of course–tow-truck operators.

There’s a TV show that relies almost entirely on these characters for its poorly staged theatrics—TruTV’s Operation Repo. The show, which features a group of (mostly Latino) male and female “tough guys” doing sham repossessions, is an unsettling reminder of why the United States and Mexico are numbers one and two—respectively—on the list of the world’s fattest countries.

It used to be that we consistently portrayed the fat guy as inferior to the fit guy.(And, often, as the bad guy.) The Blutos of the world routinely got their asses kicked by the slimmer, buffer Popeyes.

But nowadays, we celebrate the Blutos.

Not to be confused with his richer, whiter cousin—the Standard Corporate Ass-Wipe—the Latino variety is an equally abundant plague in U.S. cities—especially on the West Coast. You might well recognize him by his other name, the Alberto-Gonzales Latin Guy, named after one of the most “successful,” public specimens of the group.

Consummate Latino Corporate Ass-Wipe

Appearance & Dead Giveaways

• Otherwise regular-looking Hispanic guy, but with tell-tale signs of deep-seeded corporate asshole-ness
• Wears the office uniform, dress shirt and pleated pants, Monday through Friday
• Tucked-in polo shirt, or “golf clothes,” on the weekends
• Speaks clean English, but can’t completely rid himself of pesky Spanish influences, despite his best efforts (peak-za for Pizza, rolling the Ls in Million)
• Bilingual, but speaks poor, awkward Spanish from pretending not to speak it for years
• Deliberately engages in racially incongruent activities, like golf, to seem less ethnic
• Especially dicky to “regular” Latinos and FOBs as way of distinguishing himself from them

Additional Behaviors & Habitat

• Most likely in a corporate setting, since he only thrives in the hierarchical, structured setting of an office
• Practical, functional, status-minded education—a business degree, communications, maybe law school
• Works in safe, accessible fields (e.g., marketing, finance, administrative fields)
• More ambitious ones in minor elected office, local government
• Surprisingly conservative, impressive ability to spit out right-wing or centrist talking points
• Uses nauseating corporate speak, like “no-brainer” and “out-of-the-box” outside of the office

Ten years ago, most people couldn’t have told you what chipotle was. Shit, I’m not confident most Mexicans could have told you what it was. If you’d asked me, I probably would have guessed that Chipotle was an obscure brother of my favorite god in the Aztec pantheon—the mighty Huitzilopochtli.

The fierce Huitzilopochtli.

But these days, chipotle is everywhere. And, everyone most assuredly knows what it is. There’s chipotle spread. There’s chipotle salsa. Every sandwich, burrito, wrap, entree-sized salad has to have something chipotle. It seems that every restaurant throws a little of it into everything, just to be on the safe side. In fact, there’s even a whole bargain-bin Mexican food chain bearing the name of the pesky condiment.

For some time I’ve wondered what or, more importantly, who was responsible for polluting some of my favorite cuisines with this distracting, overpoweringly smoky taste. A little field reconnaissance, and attentive television watching, has revealed the obvious culprit.

Someone please pass the chipotle.

It’s no wonder White people love chipotle (the chili, I don’t know about the restaurant). It sounds exotic. I have an aching suspicion that they enjoy pronouncing the hard Nahuatl stop in the middle of p-t-l-e. (I mean, who doesn’t?) But above all, chipotle provides just the right amount of non-threatening ethnic zest to their food, without the inconvenient, and potentially embarrassing, “kick” of the Latino-er chilies.

Say it ain't Sosa.

Let’s face it: most people aren’t that observant anymore. They don’t see nuance. And, they’re too self-absorbed or distracted by gimmicks to notice anything about you that doesn’t directly affect them (by threatening or benefitting them). That’s why people never notice when you get a haircut or wear a new shirt. It’s the same reason television stations can feed you ever-degenerating garbage and still keep robust audiences. But no matter what you look like, one thing is for sure: people are going to notice if you bleach your skin. And, as soon as they notice, they’re going to compare you to Michael Jackson. If you started wearing a red jacket with zippers all over it and a rhinestone glove on one hand, you’d get the same result.

Something we can all learn from the White Chocolates among us is that the best way to change your race is to do it from the inside out, not the other way around. White Chocolates “darkened their skin” by wearing wind pants with one of the pant-legs raised up, break-dancing, playing basketball, and performing a variety of other racially incongruent behaviors. In the best cases, it worked like a charm.

Eminem, Crown Prince of the White Chocolates.

So Sammy, next time you want to “lighten your skin,” listen to some Save Farris, start snowboarding, and un-learn how to dance. It takes longer like this, but it’s the honorable way.