Chandler Barton
Brave New World: The Hispanic, Central/South American & Afro-Caribbean
Narrative
Defining a particular group’s experience in the context of an immigrant
or minority narrative is particularly difficult when speaking of Hispanics,
Central/South Americans and Afro-Caribbeans, both as contemporary migrants and
native residents. Grouped together under the “New World” category, these peoples
are unique in that they share many qualities and traits of both immigrants—as a
group having immigrated from a foreign land seeking opportunity and open to
varying levels of assimilation—and minorities, as a group that may feel
marginalized, exploited or grouped in with traditional American minorities such
as the Indian or African-American. This difficulty is especially amplified when
attempting to apply the traditional model of assimilation to New World peoples.
While
in the last midterm a good deal of time was devoted towards differentiating
“immigrant” from “minority” and how they applied to different cultural and
ethnic groups, as discussed throughout the past few weeks during the seminar,
pinning New World immigrants as entirely immigrant or entirely minority, as well
as assessing and defining assimilation, is a difficult undertaking. This is
especially apparent when considering the vastness of the Hispanic demographic,
as well as historical and geographical circumstances; these may include “the
border crossing me” situation when national lines are redrawn, or resettlement
after the end of slavery in the case of some Afro-Caribbean communities.
Proximity to parent nations and subsequent attachment to their former homes,
families and countrymen also makes the narrative of the New World unique
compared to others.
One
example from the recent pool of literature selections that demonstrates the odd
ambiguity between immigrant and minority identities would be Oscar Hijuelos’s
short story, Visitors, 1965. Hijuelos
gives a glimpse into two extended, related families of Cuban immigrants; one
family had immigrated years prior to the Cuban revolution to the United States,
while the other came to America as de facto “exiles” fleeing Fidel Castro’s rise
to power. Both families display varying levels of assimilation and habits
associated with both immigrant and minority groups. Whereas Alejo’s family—the
one which had immigrated earlier—was functionally far more passive and
“exploited” in an economic sense, not really demonstrating the ambition normally
associated with immigrants, his extended family of cousins and aunts were far
more immigrant in their desire to assimilate, achieve financial success and
discard memories of their Cuban heritage. While neither family could be
considered “fully” immigrant or minority, both display varying degrees of both,
and also displaying different modes and methods of assimilation.
Assimilation and resistance can also be a generational priority as opposed to a
familiar one in the context of New World immigrants: in some instances, the
older generations are more keen on resisting assimilation whilst the preceding
generations embrace it, and vice versa. Nash Candelaria’s
El Patron is an outstanding example
of generational conflict from the viewpoint of an older generation embracing
assimilation against a younger generation which is inherently opposed to it. In
this narrative, a draft-dodging son is at odds with his father, who demonstrates
extraordinary zeal for patriotism and service, and finds his son’s decision to
skip out on military service to be deplorable. This literature piece shows how
the father, Senor Martinez, having retained an adherence to traditional family
values and hierarchy as well as embracing the dominant American culture, feels
an inherent compulsion to encourage (force, rather) his son to adapt the same
outlook of civil and national service. His son’s conscience ends up conflicting
with his father’s views and that of the dominant American culture: patriotism,
service and self-sacrifice for one’s country. This story shows how the
disconnect between the older generation of Senor Martinez, an immigrant to
California embracing the dominant culture as a model immigrant, and his son
Tito, resisting assimilation and dominant culture standards, perhaps being
considered more minority.
In
contrast to El Patron stands Gary
Soto’s Like Mexicans. In this
narrative, the generational conflict is reversed. The narrator is intent on
marrying a non-Hispanic, disregarding the insistences and prodding of his family
which wants him to marry within his own ethno-cultural group.
The constant pressure from the narrator’s mother contrasts with his own
desires to marry an Asian-American, and in essence defy the
“anti-assimilation”/resistance attitude that is prevalent and demonstrative of a
more minority-centric attitude. By seeking out a mixed-race/ethnic marriage, the
narrator shows a definitive desire to embrace assimilation, which is more
in-line with the immigrant narrative and model of behavior.
Both
stories demonstrate how assimilation can vary in the context of New World
peoples, and how their identities as immigrant or minority groups can vary, and
how prevalent the phenomenon of “mixed” minority-immigrant identity is amongst
Hispanics. An example of where this mixture is not as explicit, however, is
found in Reyna Grande’s The Distance
Between Us. Grande narrates a story where her father, an illegal immigrant
living in America, returns to Mexico to get his children from his estranged
wife—vehemently opposed to the idea of leaving her village in Mexico—and bring
them back with him and his new fiancé to their home in California. The arduous
journey through Mexico and the border crossing to get to California end in their
arrival to Los Angeles. The overhanging themes of emigration and assimilation
are heavily emphasized in the story whilst the immigrant-minority dynamic takes
more of a secondary (obscure?) role.
As a
nonfictional narrative, The Distance
Between Us gives a first-hand account of both the struggle to flee and cross
into the United States, as well as the disagreement and conflict between two
perspectives: the desire and wish to stay behind, attachment and loyalty to
one’s homeland, as well as retention of culture, language, and other norms; and
the desire to assimilate, fleeing for economic opportunity, education and the
prospects of overall advancement. This stark opposition is vividly retold in
Grande’s tale in the first few scenes, where her father and step-mother’s
appearances—resembling and modeling the dominant American culture— are radically
different from the unkempt clothing and appearances of Grande, her siblings,
mother and extended family.
The
tale of Paule Marshall’s To Da-Duh, in
Memoriam, demonstrates the similarity in experience and perspective that
Afro-Caribbeans have with mainland Hispanics, and is another example of a story
that deals with the different, sometimes conflicting, world views and
perspectives of family generations, as well as the undertones of assimilation
and resistance. A member of the older generation—Grandma or
“Da-Duh”—simultaneously stands for resisting dominant culture and assimilation
through instilling a sense of national pride and belonging to her Americanized
grandchild, whilst also acting as an agent of the dominant culture by preferring
“white” skin, and becoming indignant at hearing the mention of her black
grandchild fighting a white child back home. This odd mixture of
sentiments—resistance to assimilation, pride in national/homeland origins, and
deification of whites—is far more indicative of a minority experience and
narrative, as opposed to the assimilated grandchild who sings show tunes and
dances to Shirley Temple.
Afro-Caribbean narratives, just as Hispanic/Central & South American ones, have
the capacity to be almost strictly minority. Where the Afro-Caribbean narrative
differs, however, is the propensity for them to be identified and grouped
together with native African-Americans, and subsequently become a visible member
of the “minority” whether they like it or not. Claude McKay, a Jamaican
immigrant, is one such person who found themselves the target of racial
discrimination in the United States based solely on his black skin color, which
by default made him the target of indicative southern racism. In this sense,
McKay (and Afro-Caribbeans as a whole) are forced into the minority category
regardless of their origin, desires to assimilate, and so forth, simply because
they are black.
In
McKay’s case, he demonstrates his frustration and opposition to this racism and
the dominant culture in his poem The
White City, where the disdain for the dominant culture and civilization
derived thereof are made very clear and vivid; but, despite all of this, McKay
retains the capacity to in some ways to identify as a member of the immigrant
group, and this is made apparent in his other poetic work
America, where despite the
frustrations, terrors, and injustices he experiences, the might, “wonder” and
monolithic entity of a personified America as Liberty, envying and admiring her
power, and cherishing the opportunity and greatness that America has to offer.
While the sentiments of The White City
are very much framed in a state of opposition, resistance and malice—hallmarks
of the minority group—the message of
America seems of far more acceptance, hope and assimilation in the
perspective of the immigrant. Thus, even though McKay is (even if it is against
his will) grouped as a minority, he still has the ability to sympathize and
speak from an immigrant perspective.
All
of these stories, though encompassing a vast number of demographics throughout
the New World, have a single common element that runs through them all:
ambiguity and the idea of a large “gray” area. For most Old World peoples, it is
very easy to categorize and identify them as immigrants and pin-point the common
characteristics that make up what it is to be an immigrant. But for the peoples
of the New World, it is not only much harder to do, but in essence, impossible.
Hispanics, Central/Southern Americans and Afro-Caribbeans exist in this weird
purgatory between immigrant and minority experiences, and often this divide is
seen in families, or even in other more extreme cases, with individuals
conflicted with their own identities. Overall though, New World narratives
provide a very unique insight into the genre of immigrant-minority literature as
a “hybrid” that is constantly evolving and changing with time, context and
history.
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