Traditionally Latin

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2013-03-18T15:53:00.001-07:00

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2012-08-27T20:04:00.001-07:00

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2012-08-27T09:37:00.002-07:00

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Donna C. Ledesma
Writer/Author

2012-05-19T23:30:00.001-07:00

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Thank you,
Donna C. Ledesma

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La Lechusa

2011-11-06T06:03:00.000-08:00

The story of La Lechusa is an old traditional Latin Folklore that has been told from generation to generation. As a child, I remember hearing countless stories about people being attacked by white giant ominous owls with big red eyes. The owl was a witch transformed. She would torment, attack and frighten people who came to close to her or people that she was sent to torment. To see her was a bad omen.

She was said to only appear late a night. La Lechusa would screech and make strange sounds in the dark on old country roads. Sometimes she would fly into cars and windows. If she did? That meant that someone was casting spells and was trying to cause serious harm. People would often pray for gods protection.

As of today this story is still being told. Most of the time it comes from people who either lived out in the country or ranches. It always seems to occur when the intended victim is alone, and always late at night. Visibility was also minimal. On some occasions the owl appeared to the intended victim when they were with someone else.

I recently heard from a man out of Mexico. He claimed that a friend he knew was walking home one late night. It was very hard to see as he walked through the dense brush towards his ranch. He heard a screech and howl. He stopped and looked around. At first he couldn't verify where the noise was coming from. The man was walking with a rifle in hand just in case he ran into a wild animal. Then out of nowhere came the Lechusa. She flew down and began to chase him. She chased him for a long distance. He was so frightened that he ran as fast as he could. He was running towards his ranch. He decided to stop running. He slowly turned around to face it. He held his rifle to his shoulder, aimed and shot. The shots echoed through night with a loud cracking sound. He heard a loud thump as it fell to the ground. He crept silently towards the figure on the ground. He wanted to know if he had in fact killed La Lechusa. As he approached, he saw that it was a human body that fell out of a tree. He was so frighted that he ran away.

I remember as a small child that my parents truly believed in La Lechusa. They were extremely frightened. I remember traveling one late evening with my parents to Orange Grove, Texas. I might have been around seven years old. In those days old folklore was still very strong in the minds of the people who heard about them. We were on our way to visit an uncle. All that could be seen was the headlights from the car on the road.

Suddenly out of nowhere came a big white owl. Everyone screamed as it hit the windshield of my fathers station wagon. My mother said in spanish, " Mira! Mira! Era una Lechusa." (look! Look! It's a Lechusa!) She explained that seeing a Lechusa or being chased by a Lechusa was a bad omen. I remember screaming as it hit the windshield. While I understand NOW that it probably was a poor owl with bad vision; I'm still afraid to drive onto dark roads and dense brush in neighboring ranch areas.

If you have a story to tell let me know. I'll post it here. Or you can post your own story on the comments section.

Write to me at: Loveroses24@hotmail.com

Written by Donna C. Ledesma

2010-11-26T23:24:00.001-08:00

Thank You Loyal 187 Readers!

2010-10-14T18:15:00.000-07:00

Angels Comments

Thank you 187 readers for you loyalty and interest in my stories, poems and work. Thank you US, South Korea, Denmark, Brazil, United Kingdom, Canada, Russia, Singapore, Taiwan and Bulgaria.

May God bless you and keep you safely in his arms. May prayers be heard the moment they are spoken.

Sincerely
Donna C. Ledesma

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A Soldiers Price For Freedom

2010-10-08T20:58:00.000-07:00

THE FINAL INSPECTION

The soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

'Step forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you ?
Have you always turned the other cheek ?
To My Church have you been true?'

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
'No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand.

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

'Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well..
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell.'

Author Unknown~

It's the Military, not the reporter who has given us the freedom of the Press.

It's the Military, not the poet who has given us the freedom of speech.
It's the Military, not the politicians that ensures our right to Life, Liberty,

and the pursuit of Happiness.

It's the Military, that salutes the flag, that serves beneath it,

who's coffins are draped by it.

If you care to offer the smallest token of recognition and appreciation for the Military, Please pass this on and pray for our men and women who have served and are currently serving our country And pray for those who have given the ultimate sacrifice for freedom.

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Remembering A Mexican American Hero Dr. Hector P. Garcia

2010-09-19T21:55:00.000-07:00

(Photo taken by my father Pasqual V. Ledesma)

In 1982 I was a Senior is High School at W.B. Ray in Corpus Christi Texas. I was a member if the American GI Forum Youth Club. I was voted president of the Youth Club by other members after my boyfriend resigned his position. That year we had Bar B Q,s and Car Washes and campaign balls. I was able to attain over $500.00 in donations for the American GI Forum. The money was used for Scholarships.

I was seventeen years old and my boyfriend was 23years old. I was head over heels in love with him. We would attend the meetings at the medical office on Bright Street. He would pick me up on his motorcycle and we would head to the medical office for formal meetings. Many of the Youth members were teenagers. Their parents served, most of which were US Veterans were members of The American GI Form.

Dr. Hector Garcia was the Founder of the American GI Forum on March 26, 1948. He was also my Grandmother Esperanza Garcia and my Physician. Dr. Hector Garcia was always very professional and very friendly. When it came to treating his patients he was a serious man. He also had a pharmacy right next door that allow many people to purchase medicine at a cheaper rate. He was wonderful to the elderly in this regard.

Not only was he a Physician but he was also a surgeon, a World War II Vet, and a Civil Rights Advocate. In 1968 he was appointed to the United States Commission on Civil Rights. A documentary was produced entitled "Justice for my People: The Dr. Hector P. Garcia Story". It was broadcast nationally on PBS.

Dr. Hector Garcia came from humble beginnings. He was one of ten siblings. His father Jose Garcia dreamed and helped his children pursue a career in Medicine. He encouraged his children by teaching them mathematics, literature, history and the heritage of Aztec Indians. Out of the 10 children; five successfully became physicians in their own right. Their names are Jose Antonio Garcia, Clotilde Perez Garcia, Cuitlahuac Perez Garcia, Xioctencatl Perez Garcia, Dalia Garcia-Mailson. His father paid for Dr. Garcia
s education by cashing in on a life insurance policy in 1932. From the: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hector_P._Garcia

When he was a young man he joined the Citizens Military Training Corps in 1929. This was a peacetime branch of the United States Army. He attended a segregated high school and graduated in 1932. That same year he earned a commission from the CMTC with a rank equivalent to second lieutenant in the U.S. infantry. He hitchhiked thirty miles to attend college at Edinburge Junior College.

(photo taken by my father Pasqual V. Ledesma)

He was recognized for the appointment of Mexican American and American GI Forum charter member Vicente T. Ximes to the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission in 1966.

In 1967 he was named alternate ambassador to the United Nations. He had approximately 700 Mexican - American veterans in the American GI Forum. In 1984 he was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the nations highest civilian honor. He was also named to the order of St. Gregory the Great by Pope John Paul II in 1990.

His devotion to civil- rights and securing equal rights for Hispanic Americans was instrumental in helping Hispanics all over Texas. Thats just the beginning of his many accomplishments. He also helped to earn benefits through the G.I. Bill of Rights of 1944; when The Veterans Administration failed. He also secured many other issues such as hospital care, Mexican-American representation on draft boards and most all for the intervention and widespread protest for the funeral of Private Felix Longoria. In 1949 the director of Rice Funeral Home in Three Rivers Texas refused the use of his chapel for the funeral of Private Felix Longoria.

Through the intervention of Lyndon B. Johnson; Private Felix Longoria was buried at the Arlington National Cemetery. In 1957 the form ended a ten year struggle with the federal court that school segregation of Mexican-American children in Texas schools was unjustified. During that decade the forum helped thousands of Mexican Americans in the Rio Grand Valley register to vote, and incidents of police brutality were confronted. From: http://www.thedmcfoghorn.com/remembering-the-legacy-dr-hector-p-garcia-1.474820

In 1983 President Ronald Reagan awarded Dr.Garcia an award for distinguished accomplishments. Here is small quote from the Book In Pursuit of a Dream by Henry A. J. Ramos Youth Leader. books.google.com/books?isbn=155885262X.

"As a young man growing up in South Texas during the 1950's I vividly rememer the conditions that gave rise tot he formation of the American GI Forum. For Mexican Americans in South Texas and the Rio Grande Valley (the birthplace of the forum and numberous leading national Hispanic Organizations, Life was hard.
Opportunties for Hispanices to acquire meaninful employment and schooling were limited by law and local custom. Housing and health condtions were dangerously substandard, and Local Anglo service establishments, from restuarant and hotels to hospitals and barbar shops, were frequently off - limits to Lantios. Much like blacks in the South, Hispanic American in Texas and much of the nation were denied equial treatment under the law as a matter of course.

After world ward II Hispanic servicemen and woman found these conditions intolerable. They organzized and fought for change. The American GI Forum becam their Primary Vehicle of advnace Work. Younger Hispanics saw the possibiity of equality. Gave them pride in hispanic history and the contributions to American society and culture "

Dr. Hector Garcia also saved my life in 1983. I was only 17 years old and my life was falling apart. I was no longer a member of the American GI Forum Youth Club. Nor was I attending $500.00 a plate balls for the next elected offical. I saw the potential that we as American Hispanics can fulfill. We can live our dreams with leadership and honor.

That year was a rough year for me. My 23 year old boyfriend and I broke up. I lost three close friends. One died in a vehicle accident in New Mexico. They say, he was alive up until the van rolled on top of him. Another friend of mine died saving the lives of her friends after a car accident. People said that she kept saying to everyone, "It's alright. Everything is going to be alright." She had no idea that she was bleeding internally. She died that same night. Then another passed away while swimming in the Nueces River near Mathis Texas. His friends said that he dove in and never resurfaced. His body was found a few days later. He was taken by the under tow and was stuck under the branches beneath the river. He was a very good person and had a wonderful heart. The rest of his family passed away in a car accident a couple of years ago. His mother was a personal friend of my sister.

As you can probably imagine I was slowly falling into a state of depression. I was worried about my two best friends who recently tried to commit suicide by taking pills. What hurt me the most about my two friends is that they were my friends and we always spoke to one another. I didn't understand why they didn't reach out to me for help.

That same year my parents marriage was in trouble and I was worried about their future. I hated that I was not skinny and was a normal size girl. I began binging and purging every day. I would jog for miles then go home exercise and drink a pitcher full of water. Then I would take laxatives and water pills. I tried to change my hair color just to be more attractive. Then I would sleep till evening. When I awoke in the middle of the night. I just cried for most of the night. I began to drink MD2020, Malt Ducks and I smoked pot. I started skipping classes.

Needless to say these things didn't help. In 1983 I was a secretary at Benai' Isreal Synagogue and was responsible for helping to light the lights on the tree of life/Remembrance in the Synagogue. As matter a fact after awhile I felt myself dying. I remember calling my mother from my office near the Synagogue and telling her exactly that. Of course she was alarmed. She was at the Synagogue within minutes.

Dr. Garcia saw me immediately. I remember that he took one look at me, then lightly pinched my skin up. I watched my skin slowly return to its placed on my hand. He told me that I was completely dehydrated. That same day the hospitalized me. I was a patient for six weeks. It took eight IV fluids to return me to health. I was having trouble eating. I vomited everything I ate. I went from a size seven to a size five. I remember that my father brought me a huge Teddy Bear. He alway gave me stuffed animals.

Dr. Garcia told me that I damaged my kidneys and that if I had gone one more day in that state; I would not have survived. So you see. He was more the an American Hispanic Leader. He was my angel and my Hero.

He allowed me to study for my classes in the hospital. I graduated with a B average. And was able to walk up the stadium to receive my diploma. You see he saved me in more ways then you know. He helped me realize that I was not stupid. He also gave me a scholarship for college.

I will forever be thankful to him for everything he did for me. And for his leadership. He taught me to be a leader. Dr. Hector Garcia passed away on July 26, 1966 surrounded by his family and friends. Two days later, President Bill Clinton issued a statement that read, " Dr. Garcia was a real American hero. We should honor him best by committing ourselves to the work of his life." From the http://www.thedmcfoghorn.com/remembering-the-legacy-dr-hector-p-garcia-1.474820

My father Pascual V. Ledesma
Died October 26, 2009

He loved his wife, children, taking photos, dancing, fishing, hunting and family outings.

I love you forever and ever AMEN

Today I am a Mother, Writer, Author. I am disabled but I keep pushing forward. I keep climbing out of that hole of poverty and old labels. I do this for my sons. To show them that anything is possible even if it seems all is lost. As long as you keep fighting to make it right. And fight for your life and your future.

(photo of me and my first son Sebastian)

For my sons Sebastian, Zachary and Nicholas Casanova. Boys I love you. I want you get up when your down and try, try, try again. Never give up. Live your dreams and fight for them. Always in my heart. Always dreaming for you and with you. Mom

Written by Donna C. Ledesma
Copyright 2010
All rights reserved

(To the far left my youngest son Nicholas, In the middle is my oldest son Sebastian, on the far right is my middle son Zachary)

Photos by Pascual V. Ledesma and myself.
References:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hector_P._Garcia

http://www.thedmcfoghorn.com/remembering-the-legacy-dr-hector-p-garcia-1.474820

In Pursuit of a Dream by Henry A. J. Ramos Youth Leader- books.google.com/books?isbn=155885262X.

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Meaning of Flag Draped Coffin

2010-07-28T18:18:00.000-07:00

My sister E-mailed this to me and I thought it was very interesting and important to pass along.

Meaning of Flag Draped Coffin

All Americans should be given this lesson. Those who think that America is an arrogant nation should really reconsider that thought. Our founding fathers used GOD's word and teachings to establish our Great Nation and I think it's high time Americans get re-educated about this Nation's history.
Pass it along and be proud of the country we live in and even more proud of those who serve to protect our 'GOD GIVEN' rights and freedoms.
I hope you take the time to read this ... To understand what the flag
draped coffin really means ... Here is how to understand the flag that laid upon it and is surrendered to so many widows and widowers.

Do you know that at military funerals, the 21-gun salute stands for the sum of the numbers in the year 1776?

Have you ever noticed the honor guard pays meticulous attention to
correctly folding the United States of America Flag 13 times? You probably thought it was to symbolize the original 13 colonies, but we learn something new every day!

The 1st fold of the flag is a symbol of life.

The 2nd fold is a symbol of the belief in eternal life.

The 3rd fold is made in honor and remembrance of the veterans departing the ranks who gave a portion of their lives for the defense of the country to attain peace throughout the world.

The 4th fold represents the weaker nature, for as American citizens
trusting in God, it is to Him we turn in times of peace as well as in time of war forHis divine guidance.

The 5th fold is a tribute to the country, for in the words of Stephen
Decatur, 'Our Country, in dealing with other countries, may she always be right; but it is still our country, right or wrong.'

The 6th fold is for where people's hearts lie. It is with their heart that
they pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States Of America , and the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all.

The 7th fold is a tribute to its Armed Forces, for it is through the Armed Forces that they protect their country and their flag against all her enemies, whether they be found within or without the boundaries of their republic.

The 8th fold is a tribute to the one who entered into the valley of the
shadow of death, that we might see the light of day.

The 9th fold is a tribute to womanhood, and Mothers. For it has been
through their faith, their love, loyalty and devotion that the character of the men and women who have made this country great has been molded.

The 10th fold is a tribute to the father, for he, too, has given his sons
and daughters for the defense of their country since they were first born.

The 11th fold represents the lower portion of the seal of King David and King Solomon and glorifies in the Hebrews eyes, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

The 12th fold represents an emblem of eternity and glorifies, in the
Christians eyes, God the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit.

The 13th fold, or when the flag is completely folded, the stars are
uppermost reminding them of their nations motto, 'In God We Trust.'

After the flag is completely folded and tucked in, it takes on the
appearance of a cocked hat, ever reminding us of the soldiers who served under General George Washington, and the Sailors and Marines who served under Captain John Paul Jones, who were followed by their comrades and shipmates in the Armed Forces of the United States, preserving for them the rights, privileges and freedoms they enjoy today.

There are some traditions and ways of doing things that have deep meaning.

In the future, you'll see flags folded and now you will know why.

Share this with the children you love and all others who love what is
referred to, the symbol of ' Liberty and Freedom.'

MAYBE THE SUPREME COURT SHOULD READ THIS EXPLANATION BEFORE THEY RENDER THEIR DECISION ON THE PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE. FORWARD IT; MAYBE SOMEONE WITH THE NECESSARY POWER, OR POLITICAL AND FINANCIAL INFLUENCE, WILL GET IT TO THEM.

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IN THE MEANTIME, MAY GOD PROTECT US ALWAYS.

ONE NATION, UNDER GOD, WITH LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL.

2010-07-14T00:52:00.001-07:00

Thank you Loyal Robstown!

2010-06-25T06:06:00.000-07:00

Thank you Loyal Robstown once again! You may be a little town. But the people have a lot of heart. God bless everyone there. May you grow abundantly. May Gods angels keep you and your family in safety. May his mercy remember always.

With peace and love forever
Donna C. Ledesma
Writer/Author
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Meeting the Devil At A Dance

2010-06-24T02:42:00.000-07:00

This is a very old Latin folklore/legend that has been passed from generation to generation. This story begins with a handsome man coming into a dance hall to seduce a woman into dancing with him; then turns out to be the devil. This story has been told from South Texas to New Mexico, Bolivia and Columbia. It has a lot to do with old folklore and culture.

Most of the stories were meant to keep young people away from bars and late night dancing. This story was meant to keep the young men and women, safe and out of harms way. Away from anyone that may seduce them and take away their virtue.

It reminds me of the old Hispanic story about the "Yorona" (Llorona) (the wailing lady), who drowned her children in a river because her husband was cheating on her. It is said that she roamed the rivers at night wailing and crying for her children. This story was told to keep children from going near the rivers alone. Parents were afraid that their children would attempt to swim unsupervised and drown.

I remember this story frightened me as a child. My grandmother would stay up late at night and tell me that the wailing noises outside my window and down the street were from La Llorona. She said this so that I would go to sleep quickly. And I did.

In the story "The Devil Dances", written by Jose Limone; the devil is described as a handsome Anglo man with blond hair. He represents the desires of Hispanic woman in those days. They wanted wealth and status. They even wanted light-skinned, blond haired, and blue -eyed children. Therefore a blond Anglo man that seduces a Hispanic woman was a great threat to the the Hispanic men of the community.

In those days it was not common for a woman to marry an Anglo man. As a matter of fact it was considered wrong to marry outside of your race. And the elders viewed the devil as a form of punishment for the sins of the youth. The elders would often say that anyone who was out in bars late at night drinking and dancing was out of gods protection. They were vulnerable enough for the devil to appear and take their soul. The late night drinking, dancing, and smoking, was considered to be a great sin.

Especially as in the case of New Mexico. If a young person were out dancing on Easter Sunday; which as of today is a tradition that some people still follow out of fear. In fact, one young woman told me her sister went out on to a dance on Easter Sunday. She did in fact meet a very handsome man. He was wearing a long trench coat. She danced with him all night. At the end of the dance, she noticed that he had a long tail behind his coat. At which time she ran away quickly. Never to repeat this action again.

When I was a child my parents used to tell us to go to bed early, because if we didn't the devil would appear at our window to snatch us away in the middle of the night for being disobedient. As children, when we didn't listen. My siblings of would swear we had seen the shadow of him in the window. And the hoof prints outside in the mud.

To conclude, the devil seems to represent something that is not readily accepted by society or culture. He represents sins, evil, communism in some countries and perhaps a threat to the current generation. Just as the writer Jose Limon wrote, "In this respect he is less a fold figure then in South American and more, yet again, Like the dancing, modernist figure indebted to the past but open and available as a flexible and critical tool for reading and critically evaluating a threatening present"

Written by Donna C. Ledesma
Copyright © 2010
All rights reserved

Reference from
Jose Limones , "The Devil Dances"
Interview with a local New Mexican who shall remain nameless for privacy sake.

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2010-06-20T13:30:00.001-07:00

Machismo

2010-06-16T19:06:00.000-07:00

Hispanic men are an interesting part of my culture. It is sometimes implied that most Hispanic men are gangsters, lazy, lack respect of women, and family. They are presumed to be "Macho men." But I feel that his assumption is quite contrary. Rudolfo Anya, explained it best in his story, "I'm the the King, The Macho Image."

Rudolfo Anaya explained that being "Machismo": was a learned behavior. He also explained that not all Hispanic men were mean, gangsters, and abusive. Many Hispanic men had a sense of value. They knew their place in the family. They were kings of their domain. They were men to be respected and admired.

As a Hispanic woman, and dealing with Hispanic men, I've learned first hand about their way of thinking. Rudolfo Anaya writes,

"The intangible of the macho image is that sense of honor. A man must be honorable, for himself and for his family...Hombrote also means providing for the family....They took care of the politics of the village, law and order, the church, the acequia, and the old people."

My father was one of these men. He demanded and commanded respect. He was very protective of us all. If anyone stood up to cause us harm, my father was there to verbally bash or use physical violence if necessary. Fortunately, my father most often chose peaceful ways to deal with problems. His way was, man to man. He was a man of his word. A male in the Hispanic culture that is a "man of his word," is very important and valuable. A man of his word is more valuable then a man who makes false promises or is untruthful. People in the Hispanic community have no respect for someone like that.

When I was growing up my father was sort of a macho man to a degree. He was the good kind of "Macho man." He was not a gangster or wife beater. He was always very hard working and very proud. He took very good care of his family. My father was the center of our family. He was in a word, "The king of his house." He often used words like, "Yo mando" (I rule). Every king has his castle, and my father's kingdom was our family.

When I was about 15 years old, my sisters and I were allowed to date. My father demanded that our dates properly knock on the door and ask us out. Our dates were also required to meet our parents and discuss their intentions. One late evening, our dates came to the house to take us dancing. The boys decided to stay in their car and honk. This action was unacceptable. My father was so angry that he flung the front door open and shouted,

"Oje Cavrones, mis hijas no son peros! Get out of that damn car and knock properly!" (My daughters are not dogs, jerks!).

The boys were so fearful of my father, that they promptly exited their vehicles and asked my father to forgive their rude and thoughtless behavior.

Another aspect of being a Hispanic man was making sure that your family was right with god. My father made sure to wake us all in time for church. He would flicker the lights off and on in the early morning hours and say,

"It's time to get up ! Time to go to church! Get up heathens!"

He often joked and laughed at us as we moaned and griped about getting out of bed. My father was also the teacher, along with my mother, who I felt was always very interesting in her late night speeches about life, literature, and education. But my father, taught me about the world and the people in it. He would often teach me what to look for in a good man. He would say,

"Tu necessitas darte valor." ( You need to give yourself value). "You don't value yourself enough. Make him fight for you. Make him prove to you that he loves you. Not with trinkets or money. But make him show you. A man who loves you will do anything for you. A man who loves you will prove to you that he loves you."

His words are edged in my heart as a permanent reminder of what I need to look for in a man. I find myself comparing date after date to this simple quote. My friends say that I want the perfect man, and that I will never find him. I know that I will. I won't take anything less.

The younger Hispanic males have much more pressure and stress then the females. For example, my father was hard on my little brother. He expected so much from him. He wanted my brother to be as aggressive and manly as he was. My father wanted my little brother who was three years younger then myself, to be a great hunter and fighter. He hated when my brother had sleep overs. he would say,

"Are you a Fe, Fe? Are you a girl? Why do you need some boy to spend the night with you?"

My father often said and implied, "Are you a fairy? Are you gay?"

My father was definitely homo phobic, but he really didn't have to worry. My brother was just a kind, loving, and fun human being. He grew up, hand five children, and married. My brother was lucky in some areas all he had to do is pick up trash and throw the trash once a week. The rest of us girls cleaned, cooked, ironed clothes, and washed. At supper time we always served my father first. He wanted fresh tortillas, fresh salsa, and gravy with every meal. My father never hand to get up to place his dish in the sink or get his second cup of coffee. We (my mom, sisters and I) always provided what he needed.

Being macho also meant taking your family on nice outings. We often went camping, fishing, hunting and traveled. My father loved to take pictures. He really had an eye for beauty. He would take vibrant pictures of flowers, fish, and statues. The pictures that my father took, I often thought belonged in a museum.

Another thing that was not always accepted in my household was men. If my father was not home, we were expected to inform them that he was not in and that they must return later. It didn't matter if the person visiting was an uncle, cousin, or friend of the his our ours. We were not allowed to wear shorts outside of the house, no clothes that were too revealing. And there was always a curfew. My fathers' rule was, in the house by nine and no parties unless he officially checked them out.

A husband was also expected to make more money then his wife. This is a very powerful macho image. I remember when I was about 7 years old, my father worked as a Welder. He was very proud of his work and the money he made. he would pass out $20.00 dollars bills when we were kids, like it was nothing. At that time that was a hunk a change. I remember feeling like my family was rich. Then my father hurt his back and became a School Bus Driver and my mother became an RN. That was a bitter pill for my father to swallow. I loved him anyway. It didn't matter to me if my father made a dollar or a million dollars. But it mattered to him.

Hispanic men should also take care of their mother. There was no one more devoted to his mom then my dad. He really took good care of her. And of course he was her favorite. He was loyal, giving, and caring. He took Grandma Esperanza shopping and to eat at restaurants; always just a phone call away.

The writer Rudolfo Anya, had a good sense and idea of what is was to be a Hispanic male. To some extent. young Hispanic males in this day and age have a lot to learn from the old Hispanic men. I miss the men of honor, men with a sense of responsibility and leadership. To quote Rudolfo Anaya again, "The intangible of the macho image is that sense of honor. A man must be honorable, for himself and for his family."

I don't feel that all Hispanic men are gangsters. That's just a stereotype. I can only hope and pray that the real leaders of our Hispanic culture will stand tall. My hope is that someday they will teach the younger generation to be more like them. We still need our old traditions and ways of living. I am thankful that many Hispanic men are getting an education and through education some bad behaviors are being eliminated.

Overall what I learned from my father, who is a very traditional Hispanic man, is that I like being with a man who can protect me and take good care of me. A man who is not afraid of hard work or going to church is always a plus. I could do without the verbally abusive, physically abusive, and womanizing man. I prefer a man who is educated. I prefer a man who is not afraid to teach me what he knows and not make me feel stupid for asking. I don't want to be a slave to a man. I do respect men in their right to be the kings of their castle. But as queen I want to rule too, within reason.

Written by Donna C. Ledesma
Copyright (C) 2010
All rights reserved

Reference:
Rudolfo Anaya - "I'm The King" The Macho Image

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