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"I
don’t know where to begin. That is one thing that I really
don’t know where to begin. The first thing was when I asked
my father, “How come that you did not teach us or told us that
we were discriminated against?” When I left Morenci, that we
were treated so differently. He says, “We could have packed
up and left.” He says, “But it made you so strong. You
don’t look for it, you don’t find it. It was there, opportunities
were missed, don’t miss them. Keep on fighting.” That
was one thing that he told me. He says, “We stood by and let
it happen but you guys are not.” That’s one of the things
I remember most about my father.
The
one thing I remember about my mom is just her jolliness. If things
were not going well, it’s just, “Hey, brush it off, you’re
gonna be okay.” When I quit school and so on and they brought
me back. She says, “You need to finish this off.” I said,
“I’m embarrassed.” “Be embarrassed all you want
but go back and do it,” she says. “Not for me but for
you, for you.” And I did. I didn’t want to. (Laughs.)
I came back even though I thought this is not what I want to do.
By her coaching, she got me back. I had gone to take care of an
aunt and uncle and didn’t want to come back.
Some
of the stuff that they taught us, just at home. I used to complain
to them about not speaking Spanish in the public swimming pool,
public theater. One time we were kicked out. I remember that one
time. My father says, “Let’s go and we’ll talk to
them. I fought in a war for freedom. I fought and I fought in a
war. Let’s go and we’ll talk over this. They have stepped
on my shoes, but they’re not gonna step on my children’s.”
I cried and I said, “No, Dad. Let’s just leave it.”
The ways things were I thought, he’ll get kicked out of town
because that’s what happened to all of us. We got kicked out
of town if we disagreed because of our different lifestyle. That’s
one of the things that they also taught my children, fight for your
rights. Complain! They’ll be there. My dad says, “I wasn’t
made foreman, but I knew in my heart I could do it. I knew in my
heart that I was the one that taught them once they were made foremen.”
He says, “Don’t let this happen to you.” Especially
to my son. He was such an influence on my children. My parents were
best friends. Like my son is a lawyer, he [my dad] would say, “Be
an ambulance chaser, but be a good one at it!” One thing he
told him, “Remember always give some time to your people because
they were left behind. We don’t stand as united as we should
be.” He told my son that and I’ll always remember.
One
of the things that I remember about my grandfather is when he was
outside and my grandmother had died and he had been misplaced to
my uncle’s home. He was outside just looking at my children
play and I said grandpa, “What are you thinking about?”
“Thinking? Mi’ja, I’m not thinking of anything. Look
at your children. They were born with their hands closed wanting
everything. My hands are open wanting nothing. I have what I wanted
in my life.” I said, “Was it happy grandpa?” He says,
“Yes, happy. Look at all of you and this came from two people!”
I’ll
always remember that, my grandfather’s wisdom and just the
happy times because we didn’t harbor on what was not given
to us. We always had to fight for what we did. I remember going
up in the trails when the strikes were long and we had no money.
I remember going up in the trails and having to pick little plants.
I said, “Mom, this is not right we can’t eat this. We’re
not cattle, not cows. We can’t eat this.” “You will
eat what will make you survive. We will not beg.” They opened
it up for us, the older people. They opened up what we have for
our children. They’re the ones, pioneers. They fought for everything.
I remember one time, I had told my mother and father, “I want
to explore other religions.” I went to Jehovah, I went to Mormons,
and Father came to our house. Father was going to kick me out of
the Catholic Church. My father says, “We’re standing man
as man. This is her right. She’s Catholic. This is her right
as a citizen, to figure out who she is and where she wants to plant
her feet.” I thought, that’s my dad. I had seen him in
other lights before but this, he spoke and fought for my right.
Father says, “We’ll leave it alone now.” (Laughs.)
As it was, I stayed Catholic but it was the searching, what I wanted
to do. It was just exploring, that was all. My mother was ready
to do battle. (Laughs.) That I remember distinctly, that she stood
at my back and said, “No one will get you from behind. Be in
our church or what we had to go through.”
Then
when I used to return home and see it like a concentration camp.
Just vandalism. We were made out to be such bad people because all
the lights at night, it was just like daylight. They would turn
on these big lights that you didn’t have to have a flashlight
because these lights were placed to give light everywhere, because
of vandalism. Vandalism that happens everywhere. Vandalism that
was taken towards our area that was mostly Mexican. That was in
Morenci. We had the big lights that would face in areas. My father
said, “It’s okay. We still choose to live here.”
“You’re happy here?” “Yeah, we still choose
to live here.” He says, “This is our home. No matter what.”
Just for having a difference of opinion, he would be threatened
by the company and stuff like that but he would still have the right
to speak up so we spoke up. That’s how much my siblings and
me. That I learned from him. I did learn that from both of them.
They spoke up. This was my legacy. They gave it to my children.
They were best friends. They were totally best friends. I can say
my father might have been drinking, he was an alcoholic, but who
wasn’t in that town. How could it be any other way if they
hid so much from us? I don’t think that’s the route to
go, to have hidden but they protected us. That’s why I think
we’re not as prejudiced. We didn’t notice, because we
weren’t taught this. Like he said, “We don’t have
to live here but we do.”
Protected
us in a sense. They must have buffered us because if they didn’t
it up, we didn’t know we were different. We did not know we
were different. I thank Mr. Glodis, this man from Massachusetts.
Every time I did something wrong, of course he ran to my dad. This
is the one teacher that did it. No body else did it. My father said,
“That’s a good man. That is an excellent man. Learn from
him.” Because remember we were the “unteachables.”
We were all in one classroom and we didn’t know any better,
mainly because it was never brought up by our parents. They never
wanted us to see the difference. My father’s answer was, “We
live here. We can leave but we choose to be here.” We did it
their way because we liked living there. He says, “One day,
you just fight for your rights.” We had a very great childhood
because of that.
We
were like any other dysfunctional family of course. Definitely a
little bit dysfunctional; they worked so much. They came from a
different era and they didn’t give up. They were hard workers.
I don’t give up. I’m a hard worker and I keep my head
up. One thing when people try to change my name in the English way.
When I went to California, that’s one of the things my father
objected to. He says, “Never let them call you (pronounces
her last name as if it were in English). You are (pronounces it
in Spanish). Always be proud of who you are. You are Mexican and
I did that. I object to children having their names brought down
to the English level, because it’s not so hard to pronounce
last names if you try. This is who I am and that’s who I’ll
always be. I have significance in this world so don’t change
my name by bringing my name down to what you want it to be. My children
are the same. They [my parents] gave that to my children. Like everybody
calls them Doo-ran and my father always corrected them, “You’re
Duran! There’s no Doo-ran.” He says, “Be proud of
that.” My son and my kids are Durans. They pronounce it that
way. That’s why we’re happy where we’re at. It might
have been dysfunctional, but I’m happy with who I am. I’m
happy and proud that we haven’t lost so much.
I
miss home. God, I miss home. I miss him terribly. My children miss
him. They still have their grandmother. They shared secrets with
their grandparents about their lives. I’m their mother and
they don’t share with me but they shared them with them. I
think it’s wonderful. They call her Mom and they called him
Dad Dominguez. I thought it was wonderful because at one time I
thought his drinking was getting in the way. That’s not who
he is. He knew I had told my children. He came to my children and
my mom came to my children and he says, “I act a certain way
when I’m drunk but you know me when I’m sober and that’s
the majority of the time so it’s up to you to accept for who
I am, unconditionally. I’m one person when I drink or not.
You can discard me but don’t.” My children says, “There’s
no way we would ever give you up, never, even with your grumpiness
and your yelling and so on! Never!” They says, “We know
two people in you and all of that is overshadowed.” I knew
that my children loved him unconditionally.
One
thing my kids did say about my mother. One day someone had asked
me, “God, your kids love your mother. They seem to love her
more than they do you.” I said, “Imagine! That’s
all I can give my mother is my children’s love. I don’t
have anything else.” I asked my daughter, “How much do
you love you me?” She says, “I love you all the way to
God’s tender hands.” “How much do you love your ma?”
“Oh gosh,” she says, “al the way to God’s tender
face!” Coming from a child! And this is my child. My mother
has made me proud. My son tried to graduate from law school so his
grandfather would know that he was a lawyer. He says, “Not
an ambulance chaser, but corporate, grandfather!” He says,
“I’ll leave the ambulance alone. This is for you! I became
a professional because you led the way.” And he did! He led
the way! We keep on going and I’m glad. I’m really happy
with who I’ve become. I’m not only content and happy but
what Joe and I have as parents. I love his parents as much as I
do mine and he feels the same way about mine. I’m glad. It
took a long time to get there. (Laughs.)
M.D.D.
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