The Sting of Prejudice

Mary and her siblings

Growing up, I did not feel the sting of prejudice. My parents and grandparents taught me to not feel inferior or subordinate to anyone. Unlike recently arrived immigrants, my family has lived in what is now New Mexico since the 1600’s, a hundred years before the United States became a nation. The family image of our ancestors was that of explorers, conquistadores, and “vigilantes,” the royal guard for the king. Today, as I watch the sin of racism displayed all too frequently, I see that prejudice did exist in my small community in the 1950’s. We just didn’t talk about it. Why not? What effect did prejudice have on my parents and grandparents and what lessons did they pass on to us?

My grandfather, Eduardo, retired from ranching and opened a saloon in the 1950s. He managed the bar and was the chief bartender. His English ability was limited. One afternoon, a man walked into the bar and ordered a drink. He became irate that my grandfather spoke in Spanish. He reached across the bar, grabbed my grandfather by the collar with both hands, and shaking him, yelled, “Speak English!”

My dad Estevan, hearing the commotion, rushed into the bar, grabbed the man, and ordered him to leave. The man, nearly 6’ tall, who would not be intimidated by a 5’7”, 140# Spanish male, took a swing at Estevan. Esteban ducked, avoiding the punch, and slammed…