Chronicles de la Chicanita Trying to Make It

aaaaahh Spring Time in DC. The thought of moving to the East Coast is often blurred by the winter snow and seemingly endless cold. But we never hear about the amazing reality that is springtime. There’s a beautiful magnolia tree in my front yard that blossoms a couple of times during the spring, sending a sweet scent and brightening my mornings with shades of pink and white. The apple tree is starting to blossom again. The grass is greener and the birds are singing. And Cherry blossoms adorn the city with their delicate pink flowers.

We have a family of birds living in our chimney, making our living room a mini concert hall. We all pitched in to purchase a new grill and hosted a carne asada last weekend. We cooked at least five different animals and a couple of vegetables. It was a major carnivorous reunion, followed by a three hour game of dominos. There was a wrestling match, lots of tequila shots, and brazilian passion fruit mousse, just another day in the life of a law student.

But even the sweet smell of BBQ and springtime cannot lessen the bitter taste of finals. Yes ladies and gentlemen, it’s that time of year again, I am in the midst of finals. Start sacrificing the chickens (for carne asadas) and light the candles. But there’s a wonderful light at the end of this tunnel… an entire summer in the Bay Area. I’ll be working with an amazing judge in San Francisco. I’ll get to spend quality time with my family and to re-meet the Bay. I have not spent more than three weeks in San Jose since 1998. I am very excited about day long hikes, weekend camping trips, lots of dancing, and some kind of excercise since recently all I’ve been doing is sitting on my butt against Bush (no jogging). Plus, my brother, Carri (my fellow chicanita trying to make it), and I are in the process of writing a children’s book. And a trip to Napa Valley is in the works… life is good

Race Matters

I love to travel but the actual process of taking shuttles, boarding planes, and talking to random people can often take a toll on my spirit. In my return to DC from San Jose after Spring Break, I met Jim, a single father of two young children, whose wife left them due to drug addiction. He’s a middle class entrepeneur who was headed to Florida for a much needed vacation. When the East Bay Shuttle picked me up at 4:30am for my 7:00am flight, Jim was already in the front seat. I figured that I would sleep for an hour while the shuttel travelled to Oakland from San Jose but Jim felt like talking. He asked me my name and where I was travelling. I answered but did not engage him in conversation; an hour of sleep awaited. He was quiet for a couple of minutes before he asked me what I did in DC. He was curious about how I was paying for law school and I proceeded to discuss federal and private loans. He asked me if I worked and after I answered that I did not work, he proceeded to tell me that he had completed a year of law school but dropped out due to financial problems. “Poor Jim”, I thought.

Suddenly, he took a deep breathe and began to accuse me of being a parasite on society. His ignorant berate continued, “your people come here and just feed off my people who pay taxes and work hard. My grandparents came here in covered wagons but I can’t receive financial aid to enroll my kids in a private school because people like you steal this country’s resources.” The only things he knew about me where that my name was Lucero, that I was a law student in DC, that I did not work, and that I received financial aid. I was so mad that this man had chosen to release his frustration and ignorant racism on me at 4:30am. But there was no use in actually trying to have a conversation with him. I sat there and smiled, thinking that people like Jim were the reason that I was in law school. An affirmation and a moment of clarity in an otherwise uncomfortable, hate filled morning. My silence was like fuel to his fire. He then proceeded to tell me that I should drop out of law school because I was a horrible attorney if I could not even defend myself. His voice got higher and higher and I think he was about to really let me have it when Ralph, the shuttle driver, asked him to be quiet. Then, I turned to him and said, “Jim, I am going to pray that your children do not grow up to be ignorant racists like you. Have a great vacation.” Minutes later, Jim got off at the San Francisco airport.

Ralph turned out to be a Chicano and a Vietnam War Veteran who has to work because his benefits do not cover the high cost of living in the Bay Area. On the trip from San Francisco to Oakland, we laughed at Jim’s expense and Ralph encouraged me to be a strong advocate for people like him. Another sign that I am exactly where I need to be. This incident came after an enlightening conversation in my Constitutional Law class. While we were discussing school desegregation and affirmative action, many of my classmates actually said that racism did not exist anymore, that it was a thing of the past, the stuff of history books. Yet in my class of 90 students, there’s only 1 black man. When this fact was highlighted, people actually said, “see, the system is working.” I was awed beyond comprehension. Where did these people grow up? How scary that these are the future leaders of our country.

New York, New York is the city of dreams but everything in New York ain’t always what it seems…

A couple of weeks ago, I seized the opportunity to attend an immigration conference at NYU Law School, which was my dream school. I drove up with a couple of 3L students who enlightened me on getting a job after graduation and some old school hip hop. When we arrived, I walked around NYC with my ex-co-worker Manuel, had dinner at a great Peruvian yummy restuarant called Pio, Pio, and watched Hotel Rawanda. We also visited central park to view Christo’s “The Gates.” The park was grey and frozen and the natives claimed that Christo’s orange curtains adorning the entire park brightened their view but frankly, I thought it made it look like a construction site. Installation art can often be criticized for a lack of astethic value but it was easy to be critical of this heavy priced event.

In a better calculated investment, I purchased a great skirt in Greenwich Village and had drinks at a chic bar in SoHo. I felt like one of the girls in Sex and the City. I look forward to the day when I will live in this city. I am not ready to settle down and commit to any one city just yet. As memorable and warm as my memories of LA will always be, as excited as I am of Mexico City, and as awed as I am of DC, I am not ready to plant some roots on either coast.

If you have not been to the NYC yet, come visit and we’ll take a short drive up north. Plus, you may hear some of these great comments during your visit:

OverHeard in NYC

http://www.overheardinnewyork.com/

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Philly Cheese Steak Sandwiches. Thomas Jefferson. Life, Libety, and the Pursuit of Happiness. The 76ers and A.I. (Allen Iverson). The Constitution. The Liberty Bell.

The mention of Philly evokes thoughts of the city of brotherly love and the city’s historical importance in the birth of our democracy. A couple of weeks ago, I had the pleasure to visit some friends at Penn Law in Philly, the fifth largest city in the US. A short drive from mi DC casita, Philly lies between NYC and DC off the New Jersey Turn Pike.

The Latina/o Law Student Association at Penn Law hold an annual event entitled La Gran Fiesta, where they host students and practitioners for a dinner and dancing. This year’s theme was Latinos in the Judiciary and my judge was dinner keynote speaker. It turned out to be a great opportunity to meet my colleagues in the northwest and many practitioners. Plus I danced a lot of bachata, dominican like merengue.

As I walked through the cobblestone streets, I imagined the fouding fathers debating and dreaming the future that I am living today. Ana (a chicanita from LA that I met at MALDEF last summer) and I walked from the trolley metro to Constitutional Hall where the Liberty Bell is housed. We also walked by the Museum of Art that was hosting a Dali exhibit, the only US engagement. After a light breakfast at Yum Yum donuts, the official sponsor of the city (there was a Yum Yum on every corner, I was floating while I thought about my wonderful trip and he peaceful drive that awaited me. As Ana and I were walking down a narrow street toward my rental car, a man walking toward us on a mean mission totally shoved me and I almost lost my balance. So much for brotherly love.

But I look forward to exploring Philly in future trips.

New York, New York is the city of dreams but everything in New York ain’t always what it seems…

A couple of weeks ago, I seized the opportunity to attend an immigration conference at NYU Law School, which was my dream school. I drove up with a couple of 3L students who enlightened me on getting a job after graduation and some old school hip hop. When we arrived, I walked around NYC with my ex-co-worker Manuel, had dinner at a great Peruvian yummy restuarant called Pio, Pio, and watched Hotel Rawanda. We also visited central park to view Christo’s “The Gates.” The park was grey and frozen and the natives claimed that Christo’s orange curtains adorning the entire park brightened their view but frankly, I thought it made it look like a construction site. Installation art can often be criticized for a lack of aesthetic value but it was easy to be critical of this heavy priced event.

In a better calculated investment, I purchased a great skirt in Greenwich Village and had drinks at a chic bar in SoHo. I felt like one of the girls in Sex and the City. I look forward to the day when I will live in this city. I am not ready to settle down and commit to any one city just yet. As memorable and warm as my memories of LA will always be, as excited as I am of Mexico City, and as awed as I am of DC, I am not ready to plant some roots on either coast.

If you have not been to the NYC yet, come visit and we’ll take a short drive up north. Plus, you may hear some of these great comments during your visit: OverHeard in NYC

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Philly Cheese Steak Sandwiches. Thomas Jefferson. Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. The 76ers and A.I. (Allen Iverson). The Constitution. The Liberty Bell.

The mention of Philly evokes thoughts of the city of brotherly love and the city’s historical importance in the birth of our democracy. A couple of weeks ago, I had the pleasure to visit some friends at Penn Law in Philly, the fifth largest city in the US. A short drive from mi DC casita, Philly lies between NYC and DC off the New Jersey Turn Pike.

The Latina/o Law Student Association at Penn Law hold an annual event entitled La Gran Fiesta, where they host students and practitioners for a dinner and dancing. This year’s theme was Latinos in the Judiciary and my judge was dinner keynote speaker. It turned out to be a great opportunity to meet my colleagues in the northwest and many practitioners. Plus I danced a lot of bachata, dominican like merengue.

Aaaaahh Spring Time in DC. The thought of moving to the East Coast is often blurred by the winter snow and seemingly endless cold. But we never hear about the amazing reality that is springtime. There’s a beautiful magnolia tree in my front yard that blossoms a couple of times during the spring, sending a sweet scent and brightening my mornings with shades of pink and white. The apple tree is starting to blossom again. The grass is greener and the birds are singing. And Cherry blossoms adorn the city with their delicate pink flowers.

We have a family of birds living in our chimney, making our living room a mini concert hall. We all pitched in to purchase a new grill and hosted a carne asada last weekend. We cooked at least five different animals and a couple of vegetables. It was a major carnivorous reunion, followed by a three hour game of dominos. There was a wrestling match, lots of tequila shots, and Brazilian passion fruit mousse, just another day in the life of a law student.

But even the sweet smell of BBQ and springtime cannot lessen the bitter taste of finals. Yes ladies and gentlemen, it’s that time of year again, I am in the midst of finals. Start sacrificing the chickens (for carne asadas) and light the candles. But there’s a wonderful light at the end of this tunnel… an entire summer in the Bay Area. I’ll be working with an amazing judge in San Francisco. I’ll get to spend quality time with my family and to re-meet the Bay. I have not spent more than three weeks in San Jose since 1998. I am very excited about day long hikes, weekend camping trips, lots of dancing, and some kind of exercise since recently all I’ve been doing is sitting on my butt against Bush (no jogging). Plus, my brother, Carri (my fellow chicanita trying to make it), and I are in the process of writing a children’s book. And a trip to Napa Valley is in the works… life is good

Race Matters
I love to travel but the actual process of taking shuttles, boarding planes, and talking to random people can often take a toll on my spirit. In my return to DC from San Jose after Spring Break, I met Jim, a single father of two young children, whose wife left them due to drug addiction. He’s a middle class entrepreneur who was headed to Florida for a much needed vacation. When the East Bay Shuttle picked me up at 4:30am for my 7:00am flight, Jim was already in the front seat. I figured that I would sleep for an hour while the shuttle traveled to Oakland from San Jose but Jim felt like talking. He asked me my name and where I was traveling. I answered but did not engage him in conversation; an hour of sleep waited. He was quiet for a couple of minutes before he asked me what I did in DC. He was curious about how I was paying for law school and I proceeded to discuss federal and private loans. He asked me if I worked and after I answered that I did not work, he proceeded to tell me that he had completed a year of law school but dropped out due to financial problems. “Poor Jim”, I thought.

Suddenly, he took a deep breathe and began to accuse me of being a parasite on society. His ignorant berate continued, “your people come here and just feed off my people who pay taxes and work hard. My grandparents came here in covered wagons but I can’t receive financial aid to enroll my kids in a private school because people like you steal this country’s resources.” The only things he knew about me where that my name was Lucero, that I was a law student in DC, that I did not work, and that I received financial aid. I was so mad that this man had chosen to release his frustration and ignorant racism on me at 4:30am. But there was no use in actually trying to have a conversation with him. I sat there and smiled, thinking that people like Jim were the reason that I was in law school. An affirmation and a moment of clarity in an otherwise uncomfortable, hate filled morning. My silence was like fuel to his fire. He then proceeded to tell me that I should drop out of law school because I was a horrible attorney if I could not even defend myself. His voice got higher and higher and I think he was about to really let me have it when Ralph, the shuttle driver, asked him to be quiet. Then, I turned to him and said, “Jim, I am going to pray that your children do not grow up to be ignorant racists like you. Have a great vacation.” Minutes later, Jim got off at the San Francisco airport.

Ralph turned out to be a Chicano and a Vietnam War Veteran who has to work because his benefits do not cover the high cost of living in the Bay Area. On the trip from San Francisco to Oakland, we laughed at Jim’s expense and Ralph encouraged me to be a strong advocate for people like him. Another sign that I am exactly where I need to be. This incident came after an enlightening conversation in my Constitutional Law class. While we were discussing school desegregation and affirmative action, many of my classmates actually said that racism did not exist anymore, that it was a thing of the past, the stuff of history books. Yet in my class of 90 students, there’s only 1 black man. When this fact was highlighted, people actually said, “see, the system is working.” I was awed beyond comprehension. Where did these people grow up? How scary that these are the future leaders of our country.