I have a dear friend who is the son of a Bracero. He was born in the United States in the 1960s but his father never became a citizen, even after he married into a family with deep roots north of the border—a family heritage that predates the existence of the United States by several millennia at least.
His mother, who passed away in 1987, was Navajo and Mexican. Like many people her age, she came to identify, defensively, as “Spanish American,” especially after the family moved to Pueblo, Colorado where her bracero husband got a job as a manual laborer at the steel mill. Of course, she was not Spanish, but that’s a different story for another time.
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