February 9, 2019
Two days ago I was in the mountainside forest home of a composer, discussing American history. Yesterday I was in a small apartment in a public housing project talking about the differences between Mexican and American cultures. Two interesting families, good people all, living 20 minutes apart yet inhabiting very different realities.
I can’t reveal the names of the people I met or their two communities for reasons of confidentiality. In my capacity as a bilingual field interviewer for a social science research company, I meet all kinds of people in the course of conducting national surveys. What I can say is that I work mostly in the San Francisco Bay Area, and I knock on a lot of doors in wealthy, middle class, and poor neighborhoods.
“Ryan,” the middle aged white composer and his mixed race professor wife, are creative and accomplished professionals, world travelers, and by all appearances at least are living happy, fulfilled lives in a beautiful, upscale community.
“Eduardo” was shot and paralyzed on the streets of a big Mexican city. Now confined to a wheelchair and a legal immigrant, he lives with his loving and supportive family in a county-subsidized apartment building in an unpleasant neighborhood in a nearby city. While Eduardo was answering questions on my laptop, I hung out with his brother “Maurilio,” who helped me gain an appreciation of the lives that his family is living.
Eduardo, Maurilio and their mother live together in the apartment, and Eduardo has an affectionate girlfriend who was there during my visit. Maurilio’s job supports the family while Eduardo receives food stamps, subsidized (but not free) housing, and free health care through Medi-Cal (Medicaid). But there are other family members who live nearby, and they are all close and help each other. Maurilio said that unlike his white friends, he can’t imagine going for more than a week without seeing his other siblings and extended family members. They are his best friends. When I mentioned that white people tend to be more independent of their families, he laughed and pantomimed white parents kicking their kids out of the nest.
In my family, we love each other, but wouldn’t want to live under the same roof again. If I became disabled, my family would be helpful, but they would never let me live with them – I’d have to have a caregiver or live in a home for the disabled. In American culture we’ve lost to varying degrees the close family bonds that the Mexicans still have.
But Maurilio stated that his family is really glad that they’re in the Bay Area. In Mexico there is so much corruption at all levels of society. He mentioned that the guy who shot Eduardo got out of jail after a couple years, and the lawyers and hospital they used took their money but did nothing for them. Drunk drivers routinely bribe cops, meaning that drunks can drive with impunity, endangering everyone else. Maurilio added, “Just try bribing an American cop and see what happens,” and made a motion of his throat being cut.
Life in the housing project is less than ideal. They had cockroaches recently, but the management took care of the problem. Their black neighbors are noisy and don’t respect designated parking spaces, but Maurilio and Eduardo have learned to be flexible and communicate with their neighbors whenever a problem arises, so they get along more or less. The police get called often to the project, but so far Eduardo and family haven’t been affected by the crime.
Which life would I rather lead – Ryan’s, or Eduardo’s? The former, of course. Ryan and his wife enjoy abundance, beauty, and an easier lifestyle. But other than his paralysis, I don’t feel sorry for Eduardo or his family. They are better off now than they were in Mexico, and they are grateful for what they have and for each other. Ryan and his wife are the haves, and Eduardo and family are the have nots, but even the have nots have love.
David Wigginton 