Sunday, September 24, 2017

US Constitution and Kneeing in Protest

By kiki 

Here are a few words on my take on the NBA and NFL players taking a knee in protest as the National Anthem is sung. 

I think the black, and some white ones too, players are within their rights (though I wouldn't do it, I would fight to the end for their right to do so) under the US Constitution to take a knee to protest peacefully against what they feel is unjust racist treatment. 
  
President Trump is just pouring gas on the nation's racist flames with his over-heated statements, such as this one "Get that son of bitch off the field right now. He's fired. He's fired!" Trump and others against the kneeing need to sit down and read the constitution: The US Constitution is a unique document that our young men and women have fought mightily and gallantly to defend against foreign and domestic enemies. - Now, as to the people, some are my dear relatives and good friends,  that argue that their sons, fathers, and other loved ones fought wars or are serving in the military and feel disrespected by the players kneeling; they need to understand that they fought/are fighting to defend the same constitution that gives the players the right to protest as they see fit, as long it is done peacefully. My friends, you can not have it both ways; you can not want your freedom and, at the same time, try to take it away from people expressing their views simply because you disagree with their opinions. Unfortunately, some of my friends/family, when they see the folly of their constitutional argument, go by the wayside and fall back on the Holy Bible to try to convince themselves and us of their righteousness. But the founding fathers were intelligent; they knew that religion had no place in our government, thus 'Separation of church and state was inserted into the most significant document ever written by men.

Thursday, September 7, 2017

Montebello Junior High School.

By kiki 

In 1950, I entered Montebello Junior High School.

Somehow some of my Vail schoolmates and I got a year behind in our school years. After 7th grade, some schoolmates and I were asked to skip the 8th grade and go straight into the 9th grade. I said yes. My best friend Coy and others said no.

My two years at Montebello Junior High were not very memorable. Besides getting thrown off the school bus for shooting spitballs at the driver, finding a girlfriend that dropped me after a couple of months for a high school guy because he had a car, she told me. And seeing Mr. Martin, our English teacher, and another teacher whose name I can't recall—I'll just call him Mr. Dude—go after another teacher, whose name I can't remember, so I'll call her Miss Dudette. Both were trying to win Miss Dudette's heart. Mr. Martin won out in the end, and he married Miss Dudette.

One day in Mr. Martin's English class, my friend Chano Diaz asked permission to go to the boy's room, which he got from Mr. Martin. On his return from the boy's room and sitting at his desk, Chano bolted up in the air, yelling, "cabron, I am going to kill you!" at me. It seemed like somebody had put a thumbtack on his chair. Why he thought it was me, I've no idea. I was asked by Mr. Martin if I had put the tack on the chair or knew who had done it. I told him, "I ain't squawking." By the end of the class, Chano had gotten over it, and he didn't beat me up, which he could have quickly done as he was a big boy. By the way, Chano is a distant cousin.

The most exciting times at M.J.H. were in Mr. Archer's agriculture class. Mr. Archer had a fenced land plot for his agriculture classes; the lot had a locked gate. Mr. Archer would count the number of students going in at the start of class and coming out at the end. He was short one student coming out; he would look us over and ask, "Where is David?" Nobody would say they knew where David was, so he would send some of us to look for him. Of course, some of us knew where he was because some of us would tie David up in the tool shed during class. We would untie him once Mr. Archer asked for him. Some may say we were bullies, but we were just mischievous. It was all done in fun. Even David used to laugh at what we did to him.

Another fond memory of M.J.H. was trading my lunch with the gabacho boys. At the start of my 7th-grade year, my mom would pack me a "brown bag" lunch with tacos; they are now known as burritos. I would trade the tacos for sandwiches with the white boys. It was a good trade in that everybody was happy. But that didn't last long. About halfway into the school year, I started getting lunch money. Across the school was a mom-and-pop burger joint where we could buy a burger, fries, and a coke for 50 cents, and that's what I had for lunch for the rest of the time I was attending M.J.H.

My two years at Montebello Junior High went by fast. Finally, the spring of 1952 came around, and it was time to prepare for graduation. I needed to buy a suit, but before we could go to a men's store, a tailor making the rounds in Simons came to our door. My mom told him yes that I needed a suit for graduation. "How much?" she asked him. "$50.00," said the tailor. My mom said okay, even though we didn't have the $50.00. With the material picked and the measurements taken, the tailor said he would deliver C.O.D. with a small deposit in two weeks.

My mom then remembered that my paternal grandmother was holding $50.00 from a cow sale for me. "A cow sale?" When I was about 8 or 9, my grandma Lupe gave me one of her calves. After a couple of years, she sold my cow for $50.00 and told my mom and dad that she would hold that money until I graduated. When my mom told her we needed the money for my graduation, she said no, that I only graduated from junior high and not high school. So, in the end, she gave us $50.00 plus $20.00.

With the cost of the suit taken care of, I now needed a shirt, tie, and shoes. I settled on a white shirt, yellow knitted tie, and blue suede shoes to go with the light blue suit that had been tailor-made for me.

Graduation day was in mid-June. Ceremonies were held at Montebello City Park.

We sat on stage, and as our names were called, we walked to the center stage to receive our diplomas from the principal, Mr. Collins. After receiving our certificates, we would coolly walk back to our seats. Mr. Collins' daughter, who graduated with us (I can't remember her name), skipped-hopped across the stage, and after receiving her diploma, she skipped-hopped back to her seat. She had everybody laughing. - With the ceremonies over, it was party time at the Brickyard.

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

Dreamers

By kiki


Never in my 80 years have we ever had a bunch of: mean, ignorant, inhumane, racist men running our country. To send those "Dreamers," who are Americans for all intents and purposes and who have done nothing wrong, back to their country of origin is genuinely inhumane and heartless. Those Dreamers, some of who have been here since early childhood, and have gone to school here, served in our military, worked and paid their fair share of U.S. taxes, and have lived a high moral life, deserve better from the only country they have really known. Instead, the land they identify with and love is treating them as second-class citizens, which is unacceptable because their parent's crimes of illegally crossing the border are not theirs to bear.