TWO LANGUAGES,
TWO
WORLDS
Language divides local Latinos.
Story by Kera Abraham
C
■
Photos by Luis Salazar
andice Coots and Jaime Valderas are both proud of their Mexican heritage.
They share the feeling that Latinos need a supportive cultural community in
the predominantly white city of Eugene. But even though they are both young
and sociable, their lives are worlds apart.
Coots, a UO student, was born in Anaheim, Calif. and moved to southern Oregon when
she was 8 years old. Despite her shiny brown hair and dark eyes, those who don’t know
her might not guess that she is ethnically half-Mexican. She’s visited Mexico and she
loves her mother’s tamales, but her Spanish is limited.
Valderas, a recent immigrant who works as an installer for a heating company, was
born in Veracruz, Mexico. He came to the U.S. in 1999 to visit a brother in California, and
moved to the Willamette Valley in 2001 because he liked the area’s tranquility. He chats
in Spanish with friends and co-workers, but he speaks only broken English.
Coots and Valderas represent two distinct groups in the Latino community: those who
speak Spanish and those who don’t. According to the 2000 Census, 15 percent of
Eugene’s Latinos speak Spanish only. But Eugene has an exceptionally high percentage
of monolingual, English-speaking Latinos, at almost half of the local Latino community. In
comparison, only 21 percent of Latinos in the U.S. speak English only.
At 5 percent of the total population, Latinos are Eugene’s biggest minority group,
according to the 2000 Census. Numbering nearly 7,000, the local Latino population has
more than doubled since 1990 — three times the growth rate of Latinos in California,
and twice the growth rate of Latinos nationwide. According to Coots, who collected data
for the 2000 Census, the number of Latinos in Eugene is likely even higher because many
undocumented residents decline to fill out Census forms for fear of deportation.
Differences separate the Latino population into distinct demographic groups. About
two-thirds were born in the U.S. and the other third were born in Latin American coun-
tries. Seventy percent have Mexican ancestry. Though Mexican nationals and native-born
Mexican-Americans share a common heritage, disparities in language and culture make
it hard for the two groups to relate.
12 MAY 1, 2003
Jaime Valderas
DIFFERENT WORLDS
According to Lane Community College
Anthropology Professor Bruce Sanchez,
considerable tension divides native- and for-
eign-born American residents with Mexican
roots. “Mexican-Americans think that
Mexican nationals are an embarrassment and
do not know how to behave,” says Sanchez,
“and Mexican nationals believe that
Mexican-Americans have abandoned their
culture; that is, they are pochos.”
Pocho is a slang word used by Mexican
nationals to insult Mexican-Americans who
speak English and identify with American
culture. It literally means “faded in color.”
For Mexican-Americans, it is a derisive term
that suggests a disconnection from their cul-
tural heritage.
Yet the insults fly both ways. A Mexican
national who emigrates to the U.S. is “what
people would call a ‘wetback,’ straight from
the river,” says Coots. The terms “wetback”
and “pocho” illustrate the rift dividing
native-born and immigrant Latinos.
Language is a primary factor affecting that
gap.
“It’s often a question of cultural legitima-
cy,” says Tomas Hulick-Baiza, the coordina-
tor for multicultural recruitment at the UO.
“Speaking as someone who was born on this
side of the border and raised biculturally, it
often seems that Mexicans are going to judge
us by the quality of our Spanish. I’ve always
seen it as an oppressive behavior. Often
you’ll find people from each side who make
fun of one another, like ‘your Spanish is
pocho,’ or ‘look at your English.’”
Sanchez, like Hulick-Baiza, is a
Mexican-American who was born in the
U.S. He speaks only English, and he does not
identify strongly with Mexican culture. “I do
not feel I share a lot with immigrants from
Mexico,” says Sanchez. “We live in different
worlds.”
MAINTAINING ROOTS
If Latino immigrants live in their own
world in Eugene, its capital is the Whiteaker
neighborhood, which is 16 percent Latino
and contains an assortment of Latino busi-
nesses.
A red and white hand-painted sign marks
Las Brasas, a Mexican restaurant located on
Blair Blvd. and 5th Ave. Inside, indigenous
masks and photographs of the dishes on the
menu decorate the bright yellow walls. A
large wood carving dominates one wall, dis-
playing an eagle holding a snake under the
words “Estados Unidos Mexicanos.”
Valderas has come to Las Brasas for
lunch on a sunny Saturday afternoon.
Sipping a Mexican soda and speaking in
Spanish, the 26-year-old immigrant says he
appreciates the friendliness of non-Mexican
people in Eugene. “Here, you go to the store,
and people say ‘Hola! ¿Cómo estás?’ in
Spanish. White people,” he emphasizes.
In contrast, he says, Mexican-Americans
born in the U.S. “are a little bit racist … It’s
like they see you as a little beneath them. As
if you are illegal.” He complains that many
Mexican-Americans don’t want to speak
Spanish or share in the Mexican culture. “I
prefer an American … to a ‘Mexican’ who
was born here, a pocho,” he says.
Unlike pochos, asserts Valderas, Mexican
nationals are humble and know the value of