Miami isn’t necessarily a very “cosmopolitan” community as many of us imagine it to be. We’re divided within different blocks of cultures, where some represent a Latino, African American, or Caucasian population. Every group remains within their neighborhood and the integration of cultures only occurs when a minority can afford a home in the Caucasian area. Our geographic division is further evoked as the Miami population embraces its different cultures, where politics is part of that nature.
Within my Latino community, my parents’ generation identifies with the Republican Party because the Church urges it strenuously due to the basic principles of its platform (its view on abortion). The title of being labeled “Republican” has never carried a negative connotation within my mind; it always represented the voice of my people. When my friends on my floor invited me to attend the Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin rally, I assumed it would be similar to home. It was my first (political) reality check.
At first, Martin Luther King Jr. posters greeted the National Mall with a sense of social hope. As I crossed the road towards the Washington Monument, I had my first peak, of what soon turned to be a massive congregation of white supremacists. Children pranced around in their U.S.A flag apparel accompanied by their “No Socialism” stickers and as parents wore “I can see November from my house” buttons on their shirt. I had never been to a rally before, and I felt compelled to try to get closer to the Lincoln Monument to see all the action. My friend and I decided to follow a protesting group in hopes that it would allow us to reach our destination quicker. When the shuffling finally stopped, we confronted a human block.
White Americans were bashing those who protested the rally and different cultural slurs rolled off their tongues as if it was second nature. I finally saw an “Anti Illegal Immigration” sign and knew that I was also being attacked.
I’m not illegal, just so you know, but as a Latina, I know many who are. From all the illegal immigrants I know, I have never met one that has had the intentions of decreasing the lifestyle of an American. Every story varies, but it will always lead to one main reason: provide the basic necessities back home, wherever it may be.
What my mother assumed a Republican to be was nothing similar to what a Nationalist was back at Honduras. Had my family been supporting the ideas of those who shared hostile sentiment of foreigners?
Where I stand in regards to a political agenda – I do not know yet. I’ve always been compelled by culture and the revolutions of the lower classes. This rally was just the opposite: Reestablishment of authority to a single race.
Despite the cultural shock and the narrow-mindedness of those who surrounded me on Saturday, I was astonished that freedom of expression was respected and sustained throughout the entire rally. In Honduras, freedom of expression means “vandalism” and “hooliganism.”
The days following the coup de etat in Honduras experienced an extreme rise of La Resistencia (the resistance) who ended up destroying businesses, homes, and different infrastructures (roads, government buildings, etc) as a manner to voice their opposition to the new government. The country was divided between two political parties: Nationalist and Liberal (La Resistencia). Shootings, violent protests, and curfews became part of the Honduran lifestyle, where many people had to survive off their savings and tune in every night to the new government’s news in order to have a sense of what was occurring.
Once elections took place, the country finally reached a balance and returned to “pre-coup-de-etat” mode. Nevertheless, individuals singled out others based on the colors they wore (Red=Resistencia, White=Nationalist), where at times, soccer gangs ended up taking the social tension between the two groups into a physical approach. Every soccer group represented a different political ideology. In the end, the country remained divided until the World Cup. Honduras finally found a source for the people to all be united and share a similar characteristic: their country was finally in the World Cup after 20 or so years of absence.
Now, what was what to happen in the U.S for all of us to be united again? My intention isn’t to leave that as a rhetorical question. At one point, I hope to have a solid basis to answer this question. Part of it will be this course, another will be my AU education, but most importantly, I hope to integrate my culture.
Honduras
The United States
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