Just Start Talking: Those Who Walk Unheard

Throughout the history of the United States, there have been groups of people whom have been blamed, degraded or simply ignored for their culture or religious backgrounds. For a long time it was African Americans, then the Irish and Polish, the Chinese were thrown into the mix along with Middle Easterners and Indians. While many of these, as well as many other cultural groups are still being met with bias acts and blatant as well as not so blatant racism, the group dealing with the most outward verbal disdain I see during this time period are Mexicans.

From the issues with the fence being built at the border in Arizona to politicians’ push for more restrictive immigration and visa laws, Mexicans are taking a beating. And yet often, this group of people are those who have the greatest impact on the “mundane” everyday aspects of our lives…the parts we take for granted but are, in fact, the most important in something like Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. These people cook our food, clean up our shit, take care of our children. They are the ones making sure our fancy restaurants look fancy and our nails stay polished. And yet often, they walk unseen, for they are beneath the rest of us immigrants. They are the newest to enter the country created from generations upon generations of past immigrants.

If paralleled to high school, Mexicans would be the dorky freshman not quite understanding the politics and language of school popularity and social systems. They would be the ones quietly doing their homework and yet being belittled and beat up by the upper classman with more power and popularity.

While I would like to say that I don’t take part in this classism, just like I wish I hadn’t taken part in the cruel world of high school popularity and social norms, society can have quite an influence on a human being and so, if I really reflect, I myself might at times feel superior to the cooks and cleaners and delivery men who take care of me on a day to day basis.

One of my jobs is playing the role of a bartender at an Upper East Side dive/karaoke bar. While I make the drinks and interact with the patrons, very little of my job involves real work. I barely clean or tidy up for that is not our role; we leave that to the barbacks most of whom are…you guessed it…Mexican.  While us bartenders are not rude to these co-workers, there is definitely a lack of conversation that takes place, partially because of the language barrier, primarily because of the feelings of superiority we all might consciously or unconsciously posses. Though I have said hi and how are you, often that is where the conversation or possibility of connection ends.  Last week however, while there was just me and the barback, Bruno, at my bar, I was tired of the lack of conversation and decided to step outside the traditional hi and bye into the possibility of something a bit deeper. Though I knew Bruno’s English was not fully fluent and my Spanish is almost incomprehensible, I wanted to get to know this man I work with side by side a bit more.

“Bruno, I always say hi to you but we never talk! Where do you live? How long have you been working here? Why are you always so quiet?” I asked.  Forty-five minutes later, I had learned a great deal about this man whom I previously failed to understand. The first thing I was most impressed by was the amount of English Bruno actually knew. In response to my initial question, he had told me that he lived in the Bronx and had worked at this bar and others for over 20 years. He had come to New York from Puebla, Mexico when he was thirteen but “was stupid and never went to school.” He wanted to learn more English but had to work so much that it was hard for him to find time. He told me that he likes to talk to people but more often than not, people won’t talk to him. He didn’t want to take part in conversations unless they were initiated by someone else…understandable. Without even asking, he began to open up further. He told me that he was married for nine months when he was young but got divorced and hadn’t married since. He was an alcoholic for over twenty years until seven years ago when he went to church and found Jesus. He had spent this time with his church finding himself and new joys in life besides alcohol. He also told me that he would wake up at three a.m. to close the bar, go home and sleep for two hours, and wake up again to open one of the other three restaurants that he worked for. When I asked how he was able to survive on such little sleep he responded, “I need the money. Plus, I enjoy my life. I make my own schedule and my own rules.” Amen to that.

While our conversation could have gone on longer, a customer came in to have his afternoon drink (sad but true) so I had to cut the conversation short. But before I did, I thanked Bruno for opening up to me and letting me know who he was sans the title of “barback” or even worse, “Mexican help.” Too often, there are masses of people who are forgotten, who work their asses off to make our lives run smoother and yet who lack a say in the way our and their own lives run. But by taking less than an hour out of my day, I finally heard the voice of one who is never heard.