It is very common to hear Chicanos say, “Well, yes, they say my grandmother was pure Indian, but no one knows what tribe.” Of course, because that rarely is spoken of. Children are told not to behave like indios. When raza gets drunk and carries on, the next day the people often say, almost a mixture of shame, laughter, and admiration, “The Indian in me came out.” Out of where? Out of hiding? Out of the closet? Out on a prison furlough? Out of isolation?
“An Open Letter to Chicanas: On the Power and Politics of Origin”
Inés Hérnandez-Ávila (Nimipu/Tejana)
My family always tries to disconnect from our heritage. It is through painful & grueling & tiring research that I slowly have to come to know only a fraction of my legacy.
so too in the american south :/
This is interesting.