A Wise Latina Woman

¡Hola! Everybody...
Tomorrow, it’s quite possible that we will have the first Latina as a Supreme Court Justice -- a woman of Puerto Rican descent from the ‘jects of the South Bronx! And speaking of wise Latina women: today is my mother’s birthday...

* * *

My mother and I eating at a diner, 1969 (middle school graduation)

-=[ McDonald’s, Flags & Wise Latina Women ]=-

I would hope that a wise Latina woman with the richness of her experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion [as a judge] than a white male who hasn’t lived that life.

-- Sonia Sotomayor, Supreme Court Justice

I’m not going to put her on a pedestal because that would be taking away from her humanity, and what a beautiful, loving, and courageous human being she is. My mother was far from perfect; in fact, I would say my mother is a deeply flawed human being. She is impulsive, capricious, at times maddeningly irresponsible, just for starters. LOL

On the other hand, my mother, bless her, is a courageous soul with an intuitive intelligence, a warped sense of humor, and a heart as wide as the world. She is beautiful, even in her mid-seventies, and if you met her, you would think she’s really cool.

My mother led a really “interesting” life with her children in tow. She committed outrageous acts -- all the time. What's more, she always managed to enlist the poor men and women who had the misfortune of being her neighbors, friends, and family. My mother was a born leader and would cajole, intimidate, and demand others follow her -- including her oldest son... LOL

Many years later, as a community organizer working in the same neighborhood I was raised, I would look for women like my mother. I call them the “universal mothers,” the many fearless women of the ghettos of my childhood who were the greatest soldiers. They were and are the boundary crossers, the frontiers women of the urban landscape.

Of course, life with mother dear was almost always interesting, and her escapades often made for hilarious crimes retold as story time delights. This one is true, as far as I can remember...

The famous hamburger franchise, McDonalds, didn’t always exist as it does now. In fact, many of you younger people cannot remember a time when there wasn’t a McDonalds on every corner. But New York City didn’t get McDonalds until the early 70s. Before McDonalds, we would get our hamburgers from family-run diners that were the staple of New York City neighborhood eateries. The people at McDonalds decided it was a good idea to place one of their first Brooklyn franchises a block away from where we lived in the neighborhood of Bushwick.

For some reason, I don’t know why, my mother took an immediate dislike to the notion of a McDonalds. From the beginning, she kept giving the people in charge a lot of problems. I didn’t get it at the time, chalking it up to my mother’s idiosyncratic behavior.

She insisted on making demands on the McDonalds people. She went back and forth like this for some time and I think the McDonalds people made the mistake of dismissing my mother. This is not a good idea. You never dismiss my mother, not if you want her to go away. Eventually, this “McDonalds” thing became an obsession for my mother, also not a good thing. I think the people at McDonalds underestimated my mother’s influence and reach within the community, because once they saw she could organize community residents (often against their will), and she began threatening to boycott the restaurant once it was constructed, they started listening to her.

But they had already pissed her off by dismissing her, so she was decked out in warrioress mode, and nothing less than complete, utter surrender would satisfy my mother. Her list of demands included involving the community in hiring practices and some other issues. But the one thing she fought for most was that McDonalds construct not two flagpoles, but three. You see, I don’t know if they still do it, but McDonalds used to fly the American flag and their corporate flag flew lower than the American flag. My mother wanted three flagpoles, one for the American flag, one for the McDonalds flag, and one for the Puerto Rican flag. In addition, she wanted the Puerto Rican flag to fly higher than the McDonalds corporate flag. The McDonalds people tried to put up a fight, but it was too late. My mother threatened that the mostly Puerto Rican neighborhood would find it disgraceful if their culture wasn’t respected and that she would make sure that the Puerto Rican community would not eat anywhere their culture wasn’t acknowledged.

Eventually, they relented, but then my mother took it one final step further: she insisted that during the opning ceremony, the Puerto Rican national anthem be sung along with US national anthem. I think those in charge probably said something along the lines of, “Look give the lady what she wants, tell her to get someone to sing the fuckin song if it means she’ll leave us alone, by all fuckin means, go ahead!”

The thing is, she couldn’t find anyone to sing the dammed thing and she decided she would sing it. Now, my mother is a lot of things, but listening to her sing is a lot like listening to fingernails on a chalkboard...

And that’s how it came to pass that my mother sang the Puerto Rican national anthem in front of all our neighbors, friends, and family on that fateful day of the opening of one of the first McDonalds franchises in Brooklyn, NY. It was embarrassing for us, her children, but my mother went and belted out the PR national anthem like she was the Puerto Rican version of Barbara Streisand or some shit like that. Of course, no one dared laugh at her in front of her face, but my friends rode me for years for that one.

And that’s how it happened. I believe that was the only McDonalds with a Puerto Rican flag flying alongside the golden arches...

Happy birthday moms. I love you.

Son #1