The Consequences of Unpretentious Open Policies
There are two kinds of Latino immigrants. Okay, four. The majority are illegal. The majority are “good.” The minority are legal, and the lesser-known are the “bad.” There is no correlation. Let me clarify.
The truly scandalous immigrants, known only to the surfacing underground of cultured and intelligent Latinos, are the men behind the hundreds of strands of pregnant, baby-pushing Hispanics. You can relate to this imagery, as no Long Islander can claim that they have not seen such women on the decorated streets of their towns. They solemnly lead their children around like tanned, greasy mother ducks reeking of humidity, aluminum foil, and cheap perfume. But I am not writing here to pity them. To inform, to bring to light, rather, is my purpose.
Ask yourself: how many of these fateful mothers do not have the latest iPhone? Yes, the 5. Then double-check next time they’re pushing two carts around at the grocery store.
Understand this: the men who cut your hedges on your 25-acre property are not the bad immigrants. They came here to make a living, to live what’s left of the mysterious “American Dream”, just like any other outsider. Sure, they’ll work together in cliques, make alliances and treaties and enemies, and try to land the best jobs. But they work earnestly. You can’t blame them for being opportunistic when they’re here in America, right? Every man for himself. Right?
There are still a displaced some who blend in with these men, act as their managers, and rob them of their money to send profits to family back home. Such men could be the owners of landscaping companies. I’m not talking about white people here. Just two years ago, a member of our community moved to another town once it got “too heated.” Heated meaning that he was taking money from the government to ship packets of dry milk to his mother country, and people were beginning to catch on. So now he can continue the practice in the luxury of his new home. But with his powerful landscaping company, who could possibly threaten to take away his hard-earned cash? Think of ants herding their aphids.
“Spanish” people learn quickly. They can make $500 a week and rip off their landlords who charge only $300 a month. They sure did catch on to the “poor white mothers’ dilemma” and claim to be divorced and independent. Every Latino knows at least one family who does that. Needless to say, those offenders are illegal.
Let’s not even get into religious issues. Do you know where ninety-five percent of that $500 goes? Hint: the church is always the spiritually-mandatory recipient.
So how does this fly by the system? The sad (as in pathetic) truth is, people know. I’m talking about the power-wielding people who allow this to happen because it’s convenient for them — while they rant and rave at their weekly committees pondering how to go about restoring economic order in their towns. Not naming any names. (How could I keep track?)
Even more upsetting is the injustice that is so prominent in our eastern Long Island towns. It’s still not too cliche to say that the baby-pushers are living, sweating proof of tyranny. They’re hopping around just fine. It’s not cocaine they’re pushing out now, it’s children who feed on dollar bills, and that is natural. That isn’t taboo. It’s the miracle of life.
You don’t see the fathers of all those children at Parent-Teacher Night, though. They’re busy impregnating thousands more elementary-reading-level Hispanic women.
Just last month, a man was jailed due to an incidence of drunk driving. He was a respectable, hard-working family man who was simply down on his luck. This man is currently in the process of deportation. Another cruelty and misunderstanding that was totally controllable.
Using this comprehension of the underground, make your own assumptions and conclusions about the good and the bad, the illegal and legal. Next time you see a dark face, don’t be quick to jump to conclusions. But don’t let your newfound knowledge make you paranoid, either. That grass isn’t going to cut itself.
-From the eyes of the daughter of an immigrant V. Silva
