This is true story of my fight to earn the right to be Smiley #1

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My mother, Carmen, often sent me to La Paloma Market, while my brother Salomon watched I Love Lucy re-runs. We lived in East Los Angeles’ Ramona Gardens housing project, where I had to be selective about the routes I took.

Since I feared the barking dogs along the alley, I always took a shortcut through the hill that was controlled by a local gang, the Hill Boys. The homeboys never bothered me on my daily trip for groceries, especially since we attended Murchison Elementary School at the same time.

Mas…This is true story of my fight to earn the right to be Smiley #1

New generation defends San Diego’s Barrio Logan, Chicano Park (video)

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It’s been five decades since San Diego’s Barrio Logan activists (like POCHO fave Chunky Sanchez) fought for Chicano Park. Now a new generation is stepping up to make sure this vital community resource thrives. One of them is POCHO’s Chicano Punk Rock Artesano Joaquin “Junco” Canché who is concerned with the effects of gentrification. (His segment starts at 5:35.) [Video by Voice of San Diego.]

I smoked weed before it was legal: 1 Chicano, BD (before dispensaries)

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By John Edward Rangel

Smoking cannabis became a regular form of medication for me when I was 15 years old. That was in 1977. Back then the U.S.A. was still reeling from the Vietnam War, Watergate and something the media referred to as “The Generation Gap” (we called it arguing with our parents).

These were trying, confusing times (much like now), and for a teenaged Chicano in East L.A. who had to deal with the added effects of institutionalized rascism (big white cops called us “Pancho” and beat us with gusto) it was sometimes overwhelming. Getting numb helped me cope.

Almost every adult I knew medicated on something.

Mas…I smoked weed before it was legal: 1 Chicano, BD (before dispensaries)

WATCH: Mexicans + African-Americans + Gabachos: Mississipi ❤️ ‘hot tamales’

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First, Mexicans from just over the border brought tamales to the fertile Mississippi Delta. African-Americans soon realized the Mexicans had a good thing going in these little, corn-husk-wrapped magical meat pies.

And, sure enough, area whites realized the masa miracles weren’t just for people of color anymore. And that’s why Mississippi loves tamales.

Yes, we know proper Spanish means it is one tamal, two tamales. But we’re not proper Spanish speakers or proper anything, actually.

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