Growing Up in Wisconsin

Growing up in a small mid-west town in Wisconsin may seem to some as almost a luxury. There was very little crime in the early 70s. Almost every kid I knew could read in my school. Yes I said they could read, you know books and the newspaper. Gas was cheap. We would fill our VW for not much more than a dollar. On the surface the town I lived in looked like almost any other town in Wisconsin.The society was all Christian, Many different types of Christianity, but I suppose mostly Catholic and Lutheran. People worked in the paper mills in canning factories.

Of course in the cheese industry, back then Wisconsin was the leading dairy producer. To give you more of a hint where I grew up William Defoe went to my high school. Although I did not know him. You might say my family was sort of unique. My father claimed to be Mexican. I say claimed because I have never seen any paper work that states he is Mexican. Although his last name was Hispanic. My mother married a Mexican in the early 50s and moved to Wisconsin with him, having several children that all looked white and didnt speak Spanish. Had really no knowledge of the Mexican culture except what we learned from the Wisconsin people. In general we learned that Mexican people were not to be trusted, dirty, and unintelligent. The people in Wisconsin have little use for the Mexicans except to pick pickles and do jobs that the whites didnt want to do or were to lazy to do.

Now we lived in a city where my father was the first Mexican American to be employed by a local hospital. I was asked by many teachers in front of the entire class if my father picked pickles. I found it difficult to get to and from school because the people that lived there taught there kids to beat up Mexicans. You can imagine the type of resentment this could bring persecuting a kid that looks like everyone else but has a different last name. The police of course will treat you like a criminal if you have a Hispanic last name. You will get no help from any social organizations because the people think you do not belong.

Now I realize that many places in this country are just like the place I grew up in.Thousands of people in this country are persecuted for their names, what they look like and a host of other reasons. Now would be the time to look at yourself and say. Do I like this person in the mirror? Would I like to be treated the way I am treating this person. Its time to step up and be the person you keep telling yourself you are. Stop lying to yourself. Take people for what they are. Souls! Yes souls A spark of divinity. Each unique in their own way. Respect these Souls as you would like to be respected.