Your logo reminds me of my first Mexican girlfriend. I think it should stay and you should name it Sylvia. I'm getting a boner just thinking about it.
By Monica Alonzo
By Stephen Lemons
By Jason P. Woodbury
By Dulce Paloma Baltazar Pedraza
By Ray Stern
By Pete Kotz
By Monica Alonzo
By New Times
Muchas, muchas responses to my March 8 column asking whether I should keep this column's gold-toothed, mustachioed, sombrero-wearing fat Mexican logo and what should I name him. The overwhelming majority of ustedes support amnesty for the wab, but a few folks also made articulate arguments in favor of deportation. Following are pro and con letters from gabachosand wabs alike:
I don’t think I’ll ever stop hating that image because it makes me think of the countless times I have to counter ignorance, explain the logo and be the voice of brown gente over and over to people who don’t get it. On the other hand, because you keep this image in my face, you’re making me understand that it represents what it actually is: a stereotype of our people made up by people who don’t understand our cultura, our raza. And although I may not like it, it is a reality. So I’ve come to embrace this phony image. It’s true that we give it the power it has over some of us. And because I know that, I can’t let it get to me or have influence on me. I think this logo is more than appropriate for what it’s being used. You have the power to use humor to educate in such an artistic way that few can get away with doing. This logo exemplifies exactly what you’re trying to do: break through to people who are trying to get it. And for this, I thank you. Let ’em rip.
La Que Sí Sabe
Fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke. When I lived in San Antonio, I had a tee shirt of Speedy Gonzales that featured his friendly image. A couple of whacked-out Chicanos told me at an art opening one night, "That shirt is racist." I replied, "Speedy is kind, helpful, smart, energetic, and he always wins. Shit, you guys are right. He ain’t a Mexican at all." Fortunately, their switchblades jammed as I did an impersonation of Speedy . . . ¡andele andele!
Fag, nigger and wetback have been used in rap and comedy for nearly 20 years. Yet still today, when Ann Coulter uses fag, when Isaiah Washington uses fag, when Michael Richards uses nigger despite the repetition of these terms they still sting and are used primarily as insults. What makes us think that using an old stereotype of the drunk, gap-toothed Mexican is going to erase its history and use as a negative? It’s not going to happen. These racist terms and images were made for racists to use as racial slurs. To think we have the power to change one word’s or image’s meaning by using it is unrealistic. We need to come up with new terms and images that will destroy the old racist one. For example: "wetback" or "illegal alien" should now be "nuevo pioneers." As Audre Lorde said, "We cannot dismantle the master’s house using their tools." Let’s start making some new tools, word and images, ¿simon ese?
As for naming the Mexican, the following Denverite put it best:
Whatever we name the Mexican, it won’t matter because everyone will call him Chuy.
Gracias to everyone who offered feedback. More responses, critiques, and suggestions appear below, in no particular order. And don't fret: More spicy questions will be answered next week!
I’ve been around a long time, managed to laugh at Speedy Gonzales and JosĂ© Jimenez, couldn’t have cared less about the Frito Bandito, and couldn’t understand the flap over the Taco Bell Chihuahua, even though it was led by my good friend Mario Obledo. I looked forward to I Love Lucy because Ricky Ricardo had an accent. I loved the Cisco Kid and Pancho too. They were my childhood heroes.
They looked and acted a little like me and my family, too. I grew up being called a Mexican as if it was a bad thing, a Chicano as if it was a good or bad thing, an Hispanic as if it was a condescending thing, a greaser as if it was a dirty thing, a beaner as if it was a smelly thing, a Mexican-American as if it was an inclusive thing, a spic as if it was a despicable thing, a wetback as if I didn’t belong. I was called cabrón, guay, mijo, pendejo, Viejo, Chulo, Feo, Vendido, Indio, Don, y Doctor by my Spanish-speaking friends. The stuff that bothered me? I got over it. I learned to chalk the insults up to ignorance and racism and not stoop to their level. Me, I don’t need thought police telling me or anyone else what to think, how to respond to images, or what images I can use.
¿Sabes quĂ©? I don’t care what picture you use. It cannot insult me or mi Raza. People are going to think what they choose to think of me and you, all of us, in accordance with their own frame of reference no matter what image you try to present. I am proud of the Mexican bandidos like Pancho Villa, who have been similarly characterized. I loved those guys in Treasure of Sierra Madre who told Bogie, "Badges!? We ain’t got no badges. We don’t need no badges! I don’t have to show you any stinkin’ badges!?" You know what? You or I don’t need no stinkin’ badges either. Use whatever pinche cartoon you want, ese. Tell the intellectuals and the homeboys alike: Be all you can be, not what someone else decides is more acceptable.