Sunday, May 8, 2016

My Heros Were Different... As Was My History

The only "history" taught in school when I was in attendance that made any sense to me was New Mexico history, and that was somewhat convoluted. Until it started to come together. American History taught in New Mexico at the time totally ignored the Spanish contributions. New Mexico history taught at the time barely touched on any contributions by the Spanish. It was all about 1912 and statehood.

Even though the American history that was taught did not connect with me it was still interesting, very interesting. As was the bits and pieces of world history I was exposed to in the years I attended school. History was the only subject I had to be prodded to learn, it was a story so long it would never end.

My heroes were different than those who were generally found in the history books. Not once did I see John Adams or George Washington as my heroes, not one for Patrick Henry, not Douglass McArthur either.

As a child I recall Elfego Baca as a hero, because of the television series and because I could identify with the name Elfego, I could identify with the name Baca. Francisco Coronado was a hero, Escalante was a hero. I could not do that with the many other names we read about in school.

As I grew a bit older, Francisco Villa, Dennis Chavez and other names that would come up in one conversation or another. A bit later yet Che Guevara, Fidel Castro and Camilo Cienfuegos were my heroes.

Later yet I would read the list of New Mexican dead in Viet Nam and wonder if they were brave and heroes in death. I recall the song about the death of Daniel Fernandez  in Viet Nam with some sorrow still. I would recall family talking about those who had not returned from the Second World War and wonder if they were heroes.

Some consider giving your life for a cause as the mark of a hero, others may consider them cannon fodder in the big scheme of things.

To me heroes had their people in mind when they took whatever action they took. If they happen to die because they were trying to move their people forward, I consider them a hero.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Nice post NM.

I can't argue with your qualifications for a hero although I think I'm too cynical to have any any more. Just thinking about it in the abstract, though, I think of a working class person who keeps putting one foot in front of the other every time they are knocked to the ground and still doesn't give in to cynicism and bitterness, is still able to smile, be helpful and generous, that is, to love.

Your cousin Mela Romero in the following post would be a good candidate. Making dinner after mass at 99 has got to be love! It's very interesting to see her through the eyes of the Anglo girl whose parents she worked for. In her eyes Mela is the grandest person of all and I believe her.