21.06.2020 Views

LWRS June 2020 Volume 1, Issue 1

Inaugural Issue co-edited by Yndalecio Isaac Hinojosa and Isabel Baca

Inaugural Issue co-edited by Yndalecio Isaac Hinojosa and Isabel Baca

SHOW MORE
SHOW LESS

Create successful ePaper yourself

Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.

Mexican Food, Assimilation, and Middle-Class Mexican Americans or Chicanx<br />

can be and often is for many Mexican Americans. To their credit, white students do<br />

enroll in a class focusing on Mexican food but can clearly be disadvantaged because<br />

they often have no organic knowledge of the culture and of the social and political<br />

history of Mexico and its diverse variety of foods, there and in the US. Their<br />

knowledge of Spanish is often also quite limited if not altogether nonexistent. Because<br />

of the effects of white colonization, they must tread lightly in a class focusing on<br />

Mexican food taught by a brown professor whose origins are unquestionably Mexican.<br />

Their understanding of Mexican cultural foodways and of the people creating them<br />

often thrives on stereotypes which for them are almost always laughable. If it weren’t<br />

for the fact that they are enrolled in an upper-level English class in a major American<br />

university, a course like this, which could otherwise operate exclusively on superficial<br />

racialized stereotypes, would be a breeze for them. Their rhetorical situation in a class<br />

like this serves notice that colonizing tactics like racialized stereotypes and of<br />

essentializing ethnic human figures are grounds for failure.<br />

Aside from white students, the school where I teach also draws African<br />

Americans, Mexican Americans, as well as students whose heritage stems from Latin<br />

American countries. There are also students from racially blended families, with half<br />

of that blend often being Mexican. Thus far, the kinds of students this class draws<br />

have largely been ethnically, racially, and culturally mixed, as well as notably mixed by<br />

gender and sexual preference. Because my classes represent a vision of the future of<br />

this country, how we manage ourselves in our mixed rhetorical situation has become<br />

increasingly important. We nevertheless have to remember that this upper-division<br />

English class at my school still mainly draws white students—but all that’s changing.<br />

Increasingly, all classes at my University are mixed, and most of the classes I teach,<br />

including my Mexican food classes, are no exception. These mixed students, like in<br />

most all my classes, obviously represent part of a rhetorical situation that I as their<br />

teacher must entertain, just as I, as a Chicano, have long represented a part of my<br />

students’ rhetorical situation when they are writing for my classes. In my Mexican food<br />

writing classes, situated as they are in a central Texas university, students come from<br />

all over Texas, so our discussions often cover predictable and at the same time<br />

surprising cultural dimensions related to Mexican food.<br />

The school where I work became a Hispanic-Serving Institution, an HSI,<br />

about three years ago. Since that time, our campus has become a minority-majority<br />

school. The difference this change has made in student demographics is nothing short<br />

of astounding, given that this school has historically been populated predominantly by<br />

white students. This change, though, is unlike the diversification which occurred in the<br />

late 60s and early 70s when many universities began implementing open-admissions<br />

<strong>LWRS</strong>, <strong>2020</strong>, 1(1) | 87

Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!