Hispanics a Melding of Cultures

By George J. Church.

The Yakima Valley of southern Washington is 1,000 miles from the Mexican border. But so many former migrants have settled there after coming north to $ pick the valley's apples, pears and cherries that no one thought it odd when the governor of the Mexican state of Michoacan made a speech to them last spring over the local Spanish-language radio station. The governor, or so went the local joke, was only trying to stay in touch with his constituents.

Union City, N.J., is 1,300 miles from Cuba. But refugees from Fidel Castro's island so dominate the community that a service organization posts the days when the "Cuban Lions" meet. A children's shop does a brisk business in mosquiteros, lace mosquito nets for cribs that are a necessity in Cuba but only a nostalgic and expensive decoration in Union City.

Chicago is far from any entry point for Hispanics into the U.S. But it has drawn such a diverse Latin population that the Spanish language alone is no guide as to what kind of neighborhood a visitor has wandered into. Says Dem ocratic Ward Committeeman Jesus Garcia: "You can tell where you are from the sounds and the smell of the cooking. In Mexican areas people are doing the taco thing with beans and rice; in Puerto Rican areas it's roast pork and fried rice. If you walk around Pilsen (a Mexican enclave) you'll hear mariachi music; in (Puerto Rican) Humboldt Park you'll hear salsa and conga drums."

An Anglo's nose and ears, to be sure, might be unable to tell the difference today. But that is likely to change. Already the growth of the U.S. Hispanic population is one of the most startling phenomena in American social history, and if anything it is likely to speed up.

As recently as 1950, the census counted fewer than 4 million residents on the U.S. mainland who would today fall under the category Hispanic, the majority of Mexican descent. Last year there were an estimated 17.6 million, with roughly 60% tracing their ancestry to Mexico and the rest to Puerto Rico, Cuba, El Salvador, the Dominican Republic, Colombia, Venezuela and about two dozen other countries of Central and South America. Fully two-thirds were immigrants, according to a study by Yankelovich, Skelly & White Inc., a New York market-research and polling firm, that was commissioned by the SIN Television Network, a national grouping of Spanish-language stations.* Some 24% had entered during the previous ten years alone. These figures are open to argument, since they include Puerto Ricans on the mainland, who legally are not immigrants but citizens from birth. Even so, never before has the U.S. absorbed so many newcomers speaking the same foreign language.

< Shortly after World War II, three-quarters of all Hispanics on the U.S. mainland lived in Texas or California. As of 1980, those two states still accounted for 51% of the total Hispanic population. But large numbers have also settled in Arizona (16% Hispanic) and New Mexico (36%) and in such inland and Northern

cities as Denver (19%) and Hartford, Conn. (20%). In South Florida, nearly a million Hispanics (78% Cuban) have spread so rapidly beyond Miami (64% Hispanic) that they sometimes refer to the entire 25-mile-or-so stretch from Miami to the Everglades as Calle Ocho (Eighth Street), after the main drag of Miami's Little Havana.

Moreover, American Hispanics are a predominantly young (median age: 23) and highly fertile population. Yankelovich found that 54% of all Hispanic households consist of four or more people, vs. only 28% of all U.S. families. They keep coming too in such numbers that even if all illegal immigration could be stopped, the Hispanic population would still grow. Some 42% of legal immigrants are Hispanic, and they follow the classic pattern of sending for spouses, children and parents once the first family member has established a home in the U.S.

Some analysts think that Hispanic Americans by the year 2000 will total 30 million to 35 million, or 11% to 12% of all U.S. residents, vs. 6.4% in 1980. If so, they would constitute the largest American minority, outnumbering blacks and, indeed, people of English, Irish, German, Italian or any other single ethnic background.

It is no wonder, then, that frightened Anglos sometimes whisper about a "silent invasion from the south" that will transform parts of the U.S. into annexed territories. But this fear is much more mythology than fact, in part because the Hispanics are anything but a unified force.

The word Hispanic, to begin with, is a catchall term embracing new immigrants and some families that have been living in what is now the Southwestern U.S. for 300 years or more. It applies to people of white, black, Indian and, frequently, thoroughly mixed ancestry who hail from countries that sometimes seem to have little in common except historical traditions and the Spanish language itself, and even that gets a little confused at times. For example, the translation by someone from a country bordering the Caribbean for "I am waiting for the bus" might be taken by a native of South America's Andes region to signify "I am waiting for the small child." Many use the word Hispanic only when distinguishing themselves from Anglos (another catchall term meaning all non-Hispanic whites; it applies to people of German, Italian, Jewish and other non-English ancestries).

When they meet in the U.S., Hispanics feel as much rivalry as camaraderie. Many of the first Cubans who fled from Castro were middle class or even wealthy. Other Hispanics call them "the hads" (los tenia) because so many of their sentences supposedly begin "In Cuba, I had . . ." These Cubans in turn contrast themselves with others who fled in the 1980 boatlift from the port of Mariel, a minority of whom had been inmates of prisons or mental hospitals. The word Marielito, flung by one Cuban American at another, can be a fighting insult.

For all their diversity, Hispanics share some common characteristics. Though many immigrate from rural areas, in the U.S. they have overwhelmingly become an urban population. As many as 90% live in cities or suburban towns. Seeking companionship, and in response to discrimination, they cluster together in communities where they can preserve their language, customs and tastes.

In Miami's Calle Ocho district, open-air markets sell plantains, mangoes and boniatos (sweet potatoes); old men play excitedly at dominoes in the main park. Little but Spanish is heard on the streets and indeed in many offices and shops. A Hispanic in need of a haircut, a pair of eyeglasses or legal advice can visit a Spanish-speaking barber, optometrist or lawyer. In the barrios of Los Angeles, an Argentine can watch the latest movies from his homeland at any of a dozen theaters, while a Guatemalan can find a soccer league composed entirely of players from the country he left. In Chicago, says Ariel Zapata, a journalist who emigrated from Colombia last year, "it is possible to live, work and play without speaking any English at all."

Immigrants to the U.S. and their children have always tended to live together, of course. But the trend seems stronger, or at least more visible, among Hispanics. For one thing, their sheer numbers enable Hispanics to colonize bigger chunks of bigger cities than previous waves of immigrants could. Perhaps more important, coming from countries that can be reached by an inexpensive plane ride or even a short foot trip across the Mexican border, many Hispanics have thought of themselves as being in the U.S. only long enough to earn a little money. Most, of course, eventually change their minds as they come to realize that jobs in their home countries still pay next to nothing when available at all. Still, the process of deciding to stay can take years, and meanwhile, the immigrants have little incentive to put down roots outside the barrio.

To many Anglos, Hispanic insularity seems to be, to put it bluntly, un- American. This feeling not infrequently is reinforced by straightforward, ugly racism. Neil Rogers, who conducts a talk show on Miami radio station WINZ, last December broadcast a prediction of continued heavy Cuban immigration into South Florida and invited his listeners to comment. "Shoot them before they land," suggested one caller. More often, Anglos simply avoid contact with Hispanics. Bob Lansing, who runs a collection agency in Beverly Hills, grew up in the Boyle Heights neighborhood of East Los Angeles when it was predominantly Jewish. Now that it has become a Mexican-American neighborhood, he tries to stay as far away as possible, even though he frequently vacations in Mexico and speaks some Spanish. Says Lansing of Boyle Heights: "I think it is pretty dangerous, a real barrio with a lot of gang activity."

If Anglos looked closer, they would find some of their suspicions unfounded. Though many narcotics enter the U.S. from Central and South America, addiction among Hispanic Americans, according to drug-enforcement agencies, appears to be less common than in black ghettos and indeed in many poor and middle-class Anglo districts. Youth gangs are a problem in some areas, but police generally report that barrio crime rates at worst are no higher than in poor black and white areas. Illegal immigrants in particular seem to be less the perpetrators than the victims of crimes, which they often are reluctant to report for fear of being deported. Says Police Chief John Swan of Beaumont, Texas, with no conscious irony: "Our experience is that illegals are very law-abiding members of our community."

Hispanics also frequently display what U.S. Anglos have come to regard as old-fashioned virtues: devotion to God, to family and, despite Anglo misconceptions about siesta and manana, to work. Even the concept of machismo has a different ring in Hispanic than in Anglo ears. Asked to define the essence of masculinity, 54% of Hispanics responding to the 1984 Yankelovich survey answered that the ideal man above all else "is a good provider to his wife and family," vs. 34% of all Americans who defined that as the primal male trait.

Economically, Hispanics occupy a middle ground. According to the Census Bureau, the 1983 median income for Hispanic families was $16,960. That was $2,450 higher than the figure for blacks but still well below the non-Hispanic white median of $25,760. The Hispanic figure probably was held down by the initially low earnings of recent immigrants. Barry Chiswick, a visiting economist at Stanford's Hoover Institution, calculates that Hispanic immigrants generally work their way up to national-average incomes eleven to 16 years after entering the U.S.

Oddly, Puerto Ricans, who are Hispanic by language and culture though they were granted citizenship in 1917, have been the least successful. "Any indicator of well-being shows that we're at the bottom of society," says Jose Hernandez, professor of Puerto Rican and black studies at New York's Hunter College. Family incomes of the roughly 2 million Puerto Ricans living on the mainland, about half of whom are crowded into Greater New York, averaged a mere $11,300 in 1981. More than 40% live below the official 1983 poverty line of $10,778 for a family of four.

One paradoxical reason is the very fact that Puerto Ricans are free to come and go as they please; many indeed do travel back and forth between the mainland and Puerto Rico. Says Robert Martinez, a sales executive who was born in Brooklyn but now lives on the island: "Puerto Ricans always dream of coming back, and that dream has prevented them from settling down and their offspring from progressing." Some Puerto Ricans also believe they have encountered more discrimination than other Hispanics. "Our special status does us no good," says Teresa Rivera, director of Miami's Puerto Rican Opportunity, a city-funded social service agency. "We are regarded neither as Hispanics nor as Americans. We are Puerto Ricans, outsiders."

Cubans generally have done the best. In Dade County, which encompasses Miami, their family incomes average $25,000. As political refugees they knew they could not go home soon, and from 1960 to 1979 the Federal Government provided over $1.3 billion in financial assistance to the refugees and state and local governments. Perhaps more important, it was precisely the most ambitious spirits who found Communist uniformity intolerable and fled to the U.S.

Juan and Carmencita Rodriguez, who left Cuba in 1969, are reasonably typical. They settled in New Jersey, where Carmencita had a sister. Juan, 49, a former storekeeper, got a job in an embroidery shop by saying that he could cut lace left-handed. In fact he is right-handed and had never cut lace. Carmencita, 47, a former teacher, worked in a handbag factory and cut insignia for uniforms on a piecework basis at home. "See this finger, see the callus I still have on it," she says proudly. The couple saved enough money to open two gift shops in Union City, living in an apartment over one. Like many Hispanic-owned businesses, the stores are a family enterprise: Daughter Alina, 20, who is studying at St. Peter's College to become a teacher, helps to manage them, and Yesinia, 12, clerks after school.

Other Hispanics came to the U.S. primarily to escape the poverty of many of their homelands and frequently had to resolve serious doubts as to whether to stay. But they, too, follow the immigrant pattern of hard work and an uphill struggle. Some varied examples:

-- Wilson Brandao Giono, a Panamanian painter and sculptor, came to New York City in 1978 following his German girlfriend (now his wife) and, he says, "ran out of money. I was nervous and ready to go back three times; once I even had my suitcase packed. Eventually I found a job as a dishwasher." He began to sell a few art works. One, a geometric illustration of a woman, was chosen as the cover for a New York Spanish telephone directory. He still works two to three days a week as a carpenter and elevator operator but has exhibited paintings and sculptures in several galleries, learned reasonably fluent though still accented English and for the moment has given up all thought of leaving. Says Brandao Giono: "I like it here because there is more competition. I can prove myself better."

-- Cesar Dovalina, 53, followed a brother to Chicago in 1947 after the crops failed on his family's farm in Mexico. He worked in factories making ladders and road-construction equipment, sold tacos in his off-hours, and saved enough to open his own taco stand in 1952. He now is a millionaire who owns three restaurants, five apartment buildings and a construction company. Says Dovalina: "I came to work a year or two and return, but you get used to the comforts of life here." -- Guillermo, 41, a furniture repairman, asked that his family name not be revealed because he is in the U.S. illegally. He entered in 1975 from a village in Michoacan, Mexico, and drifted north to Seattle, hoping to earn enough to start his own business back home ("upholstery or construction, senor, it would not matter"). But by 1979 ! his wife Guadelupe advised him that prospects for founding a business or even earning a living wage in Michoacan were nil, so Guillermo brought Guadelupe and their four children to join him in Seattle. Today he earns $400 a month from a boss who deducts $250 for rent on a ramshackle apartment that the boss owns. Somehow, though, Guillermo is saving money to buy a sewing machine and once more dreams of going into business for himself. Marvels Guillermo: "Me, a businessman in America!"

What are the prospects that the immigrants, and eventually their children, will be fully integrated into American life? The process so far has been slow. Politically, Hispanics have yet to wield anything like the clout of the blacks that they are rapidly overtaking in numbers, primarily because voter registration among Hispanics has remained low. Many either are not citizens or are too young to vote, but estimates in Los Angeles are that only half of those who are eligible to register do so. Many Hispanics are too busy earning a living to vote, and some come from countries where elections, if held at all, are rigged and meaningless.

In Texas, however, determined sign-up campaigns by both parties and the Southwest Voter Registration Education Project nearly tripled the number of registered Hispanics, from 488,000 to 1,132,000, between the 1976 and 1984 elections. Their votes supplied the margin of victory for Democratic Governor Mark White in his 1982 upset of incumbent Republican William Clements. Nationally, Hispanic registration is increasing more slowly: the census counted a rise of 800,000, to a total of 3 million, between the 1980 and 1984 elections. Hispanics generally are liberal on economic issues, and as late as 1976 they gave Jimmy Carter 81% of their votes. But as many as 35% pulled the lever last year for Ronald Reagan, partly because they admired his leadership qualities and emphasis on conservative social values. Cuban and Nicaraguan refugees, in addition, often express an anti-Communism as vehement as the most right-wing Republicans.

Social assimilation may lag behind political participation, since it is easier to vote than face possible backlash by moving into an Anglo neighborhood. Moreover, Hispanics can remain in ethnic enclaves even as they move up economically. The bigger communities in fact have begun to spawn middle-class suburbs. Sweetwater, Fla., in Dade County, is a city of solid ranch-style homes with red tiled roofs and, frequently, Buicks and Cadillacs * parked in the driveways; it is populated primarily by Hispanics.

Some Hispanics question whether full assimilation, at least in the sense of giving up the Spanish language and Hispanic cultural traditions, is even desirable. Says Daniel Villanueva, a former field-goal kicker for the Dallas Cowboys and Los Angeles Rams who is now general manager of KMEX in Los Angeles, a Spanish-language TV station: "I bought hook, line and sinker the myth that said you had to give up your culture to assimilate." Now, he says, he shares "a new mentality that says you can take the beautiful parts of the Hispanic culture and you can take the drive and aggressiveness from the Anglo culture." Nonetheless, social assimilation of a sort is coming, led as usual among immigrant groups by the children. At the Loyola School in the Miami suburb of Westchester, both the Cuban and American flags are raised each morning, but nearly all the students gulp Big Macs and admire Madonna. In Miami proper, Josefina Fraga, assistant principal of Auburndale Elementary School, who immigrated in 1962, reminisces: "As soon as my kids got here they wanted to get rid of their embroidered dresses. They were more American than George Washington."

The impact of Hispanics on the larger culture is growing imperceptibly. The most noticeable change is culinary. In Chicago, for example, the Yellow Pages list 36 Latin restaurants, one with the hybrid name of Guadalaharry's; some have appeared in the fashionable Lincoln Park and Old Town areas. In the Long Island suburbs of New York City, packaged taco mixes are appearing in many supermarkets whose customers are nearly all Anglo.

Latin rhythms have long influenced American jazz and pop tunes, and vibrate today at many rock concerts. In sports, Hispanics have been most conspicuous -- and successful -- in boxing and baseball. They make up a sizable proportion of the crowds at boxing matches in New York and Los Angeles, cheering for the many Hispanic fighters who are ranking contenders (Cruiserweight Carlos "Sugar" DeLeon, from Puerto Rico, is world champion). Almost 100 of the roughly 1,000 players in major league baseball at the beginning of the season were born in Latin America. A Hispanic All-Star team might include Pitchers Fernando Valenzuela, Joaquin Andujar and Willie Hernandez; Infielders Rod Carew, Damaso Garcia and Dave Concepcion; Outfielders Tony Armas and Pedro Guerrero.

In business, the number of companies interested in selling to Hispanics "is growing by leaps and bounds," says Howell Boyd, executive vice president of Sosa & Associates, a Hispanic-owned ad agency in San Antonio that has picked up such major accounts as Anheuser-Busch and Westinghouse. In Los Angeles, Villanueva reports that more than 30% of KMEX'S advertising revenue comes from national-brand companies. Says he: "No longer is the attitude among advertisers 'Why don't you learn English?' "

Sheer numbers are not the only reason for this interest. Hispanic consumers have a reputation for seeking high quality in the products they can afford and, once sold, showing more loyalty to their favorite brands than Anglos do. But selling to them, experts warn, requires more than translating ads into Spanish. Attention must be paid to cultural and linguistic nuances. Example: the slogan "Catch That Pepsi Spirit," translated into Spanish, had an overly physical intonation. The company accordingly urged Hispanics to "Vive el Sentir de Pepsi" ("Live the Pepsi Feeling").

In all probability, though, the Americanization of Hispanics will be far more rapid and thorough than any Hispanicization of Anglo culture. Businessmen, Roman Catholic clergymen and politicians in Hispanic areas find it useful and sometimes essential to learn Spanish. But an Anglo lawyer in Coral Gables, Fla., who took the trouble to learn some limited Spanish now finds that most of his Hispanic clients prefer to speak to him in English. Says the lawyer: "America triumphs over these immigrants as it has over others." A survey of Midwestern Hispanic voters by the Midwest Voter Education Project probably is unrepresentative, since many Hispanics do not register, but nonetheless suggestive. Of the 1,346 people questioned, 9.4% spoke no English -- but almost twice as many, 17.9%, could not speak Spanish.

FOOTNOTE: *Copyright 1984. Used by permission of SIN, Inc.

With reporting by Dan Goodgame/Los Angeles, Russell Leavitt/Miami and Laura Lopez/New York