It’s no secret, I’ve totes got daddy issues. In addition to daddy issues, the world appears chaotic and is collapsing all around me and really most of us(a) right now. The world as I see it also has Mexican Mommas or Latina issue(s). I for one love Latinas, but not in all the same ways that singer/rapper/writer “Snow da Product” does, “God bless the Latinas, God bless where they from. You want to deport them? Shit, I want to make them cum.” But they do deserve to cum/come too and they deserve their fair chance at life, liberty and their pursuit of happiness. They also deserve your motha fuckin respect, support, help and allyship.
You may have guessed it; I don’t have many positive or happy memories of my dad. Although he’s not dead yet I’m not holding my breath anymore that they will happen. He was around a little too much if you ask me, but he sure wasn’t a nice guy about anything. His work ethic suuuucked, his attitude suuuucked, and his behaviors toward people he was supposed to protect- SUUUUCKED!
However, I do have one memory that isn’t completely covered in his bullying, drunkenness, or domestic violence. It was a cold October around 1986 or 7…. I couldn’t have been more than 8 years old and already knew that my dad was a dangerous scary person who couldn’t be trusted. This time of year, in Utah is deer hunting season and our family piled into a white and orange Scout with our guns and went to Monte Cristo (within Utah’s Wasatch Range). It was cold, I didn’t want to be there, and I was scared that the tilting of the vehicle on the steep mountain terrain was going to be the end of us. But like always, I just bottled up the fear.
We stopped at the top of a mountain, and everyone got out, guns very nearby. I even had a 22 pistol I was learning to shoot. Then someone spotted a group of deer in the valley below. As if murdering an innocent animal was second nature, we all picked up our guns and began to shoot.
Someone was looking through the binoculars and noticed something went down in the bushes. One of us hit something. We got into the car and went down to the dry cold valley where we ambushed them. There lay a fawn, a baby deer gasping for air and flailing as death arrived.
I had shot a bird, a Robin, months before with a bb gun in my backyard. And it didn’t die right away; I picked it up and held it as it closed its eyes with pain. I was immediately filled with regret and sorrow for hurting this innocent bird. I cried as I had to put it out of its misery, which I was the sole responsible party for- I caused this.
I couldn’t help but be filled with the same regret, sadness and deep sorrow for this innocent baby deer accidently killed in the crossfire. Did I shoot the fatal blow? Am I a baby deer murderer? Hunting the parents inadvertently hurt their baby and cut its young life short.
I think about that scared herd and all the others who run from place to place, fleeing danger and longing for safety, security and food for their babies. It was these foundational moments that made me not want a gun in my life ever, and it wasn’t until almost 35+ years later that I reconsidered because I don’t want to run anymore and I don’t want to live in fear either.
Along with a gun, I also have that bruise on my soul that reminds me how much it hurts my own being to hurt innocent life forms. All of those lives matter and their pain was just as real as mine or yours. I saw the pain I inflicted in the bird’s eyes and on the face of that dying fawn.
Nowadays, it’s brown people who are hunted in the streets of our own country. They hunt Mexican men and women, their children, with ruthless and cruel abandon. They hunt, hurt, murder, rape and/or incarcerate innocent people who look just like me.
I knew back then that I was different than my dad or that if I wasn’t … it was my goal to be different.
Even 40-some-odd years later, when my parents were starting their divorce proceedings, that crazy old man continued to express that I was different than him. Like he did throughout my life (mostly in secret to my Mummy). He would throw accusations in her face and claimed I was some other man’s child. Yes, you heard that correctly, he accused my mom of cheating on him and that’s where I got my curly hair from. (*Gay Mexican Nappy Headed Gasp*).
He’s always treated me like I wasn’t his kid or maybe just the worst kid that ever existed. He did treat me like I was different- all the time. I just assumed it was because he knew I was gay as fuck before I did. Maybe it was just my curls?
All those word jabs aren’t harmless, and they surely do a number on one’s soul. Words have power and can be weapon or a call to action. I hated my curly hair for so much of my life and really just wanted to be like er’body else; I straightened it all the time. If I could just make one more thing about me mirror them, maybe my other differences won’t be a focal point? Fail.
It didn’t work- I still have curly hair and am loving it more now than ever. I’m different. I deserve to take up space and so do you. All of those hardships have warped my sense of self but also helped me standalone (as tall as I can) in so many dark moments. I didn’t have any other choice, and I know so many of us(a) are looking for the glimmers of light in the darkness. Keep looking- it’s there…sometimes just hard to recognize when we don’t know what it looks like in the first place.
This isn’t a story to rip on my dad; he’s a textbook narcissist. It’s never his fault, it’s always his way or no way, and there’s never an apology for bad behavior. Nothing changes with that guy, and I accept it but don’t need to let his hate rule my world.
This post is more about how he didn’t appreciate my little Mexican Mommy and how devalued women our in our society. I think I was always keenly aware the message has always been that Mexican women are less valued than males and expected to be subservient. Well, I always thought that was the wrong way of thinking- BECAUSE IT IS!
Mexican women hold value and I’d fight to protect them from child abusing rapists, just like I did as a scared kid. Wouldn’t you? Is that even a question? Another something to ponder… how do you decide what’s worth fighting for? I hope if you ever have to pick between your own life and a white supremist monster trying to hunt or hurt you or your family– you pick your own motha fuckin life. If these times don’t constitute a crisis or the standards and definition for emergency action in our country- I don’t know what does.
Mexican women are worth fighting for. Yes, this is the part of the blog where I either bring up Jesus or JLo. What? The two have made me feel safe and not alone, and have worked for me so far in my little life, why change now?
I’m finally seemingly okay, and I hope they keep working for me. Some of JLo’s movies were recently released on Netflix, like “Bordertown”. I rewatched her movies but Bordertown really speaks to the notion that Mexican women’s lives don’t matter, that they are disposable, something to be used and discarded, even in the town of Juarez, Chihuahua, Mexico.
NAFTA, made it legal for the enslavement of the poor Mexican population; working for a few dollars a day. What kind of life can you have making a few dollars fuckin day? When do Mexican women get their shot? When do they get to stand up for themselves and fight back? Are they the saviors this country needs right now?
I know so many of us(a) are worried AF right now. I’d be doing better if it weren’t for that crazy man destroying our government while stealing all of our tax dollars from you, me, and they and them- for generations to come. That shit needs to be stopped! Why have they not stopped them? Are all republicans really evil enough to continue to follow the devil into the darkness? Do you think their desire for oppression and greed ever get satiated?
They are rigging it over and over and over, in every single way. They are going to destroy our planet, kick you off your land, out of your homes, steal your jobs, and destroy the very way of life Americans have grown to know. If we do nothing, we are complicit. If we do nothing, we are next. Are you complicit? Are WE next?
I was also stoned and watching a nature show… I admit it, I’m gooey and dewy for our planet (and some of these menz up in this desert). But I can’t help that my mind goes to all the current new data center and those who now are forced to share land with them. Yes, data centers are up and running in our country and already destroying local environments.
I’m so sorry these evil people destroying your homeland, cities, towns, states and country- even exist. AOC, brought jars of water to a congressional hearing from these sites. There is dirt, pollution, and contamination that have made their way into towns aquifers and drinking wells; poisoning their water. My heart goes out to these communities that have lost their fight to protect their own lands, or they failed to even start one. Heller, don’t you realize these are the same people who are stealing your elections, democracy, voice, life, liberty and your pursuit of Queer Happiness? THE VERY SAME EVIL ONES! (Stop voting against your own best interest. Stop tightening their noose around your own necks.)
I digress; some good weed. I was saying, Nature Shows. I love nature and I also love to watch when nature strikes back. I love when those disgusting billionaires that go trophy hunting get served real life justice. They aim to kill endangered species and appear to be proud posting about it, ewe. I love the part where the Rhinos attack and murder the hunter, or the bear fights back and kills the billionaires, or when nature itself stands up for itself – because it deserves to live. Isn’t it nature to want to fight back and survive?
It seems like justice when the billionaire hunter becomes the hunted and the hunted become the hunters. I love that plot twist.
God bless the Latinas. Always providing and protecting. The true hunters and gathers…. is it time to gather some beeoches and hunt?
In Love with Nature and Nurture,
The Happy Homo
PS Do you decide them or us(a) now? Or later? Have you decided? I hope you don’t wait until they strip you of every social support, food stamps, housing, etc to make up your fuckin mind. They will starve us(a), infect us(a), and murder us(a) if we don’t stand up for ourselves. When… if ever, along the way are you going to decide they intend maximum harm against us(a) all? If there are aliens, we could really use your help about now eradicating the evil of white supremacy and greed. Now would be a good time for your intervention, help…help us(a) are you there? Heller? And Jesus, I hope you on your way too. I’ll be at 541, but would meet you anywhere.
PSS Happy Memorial Weekend and God Bless the United States of America and cheers to saving our democracy.
PSSS And JLo’s new movie hits Netflix June 5th, can’t wait.
PSSSS
PSX5 I love you. You are not alone.
PSX6
