1st Generation Integration (America)

Growing up bi culturally speaks to 1st generation integration. Schools that our parents went to gave them a different vision for us; their children. Walking in the door from the world --------------------------------------------                                            
(of private school, downtown dance class and Italy-ville or “Well Intentioned White Liberals” using the hyperbolic bludgeon in the battle against conservative remnants mostly, my logic would guess. Who knows what was going on in their minds, grown folks’ minds or politically how they were voting: my friends parents', my instructors, etc. Having a daughter will definitely change your views, for example, especially for men and you can safely imagine that one.                    
                                           
At the same time, city white has always been a little bit different from country white with finely manicured neighborhoods spitting each other up. No, just by proxy of immigrant neighborhoods and their dynamics, for one: put the Italians next to the Blacks and then the Greeks, Hispanics and Polish are never far behind. Never mind, the language, culture and identity; but aware of “spatial perspective.” De-constructing it for ya; the ability to see themselves in relation to one or more other things. BAM! Now just imagine what that did, in their bedrooms, bouncing off the walls to latest house track. Thanks, to hand made mix tapes; doing Napster long before that llc genesis shyt ever was.                                              
                                              
Certain houses weren’t afforded to me per my Mother because she knew them; 1 in particular was {Italian} Fata-"I heard you were at Mickey's house over the weekend but you won't come to mine" and that was the problem; "I can't go to you guy-es house;" finally let it out-the end. We weren't close anyways; she was on some other shit. Coincidently, their Mother let them stay out until midnight in 6th/7h grade and what’s going on in other peoples’ houses can sometimes make it hard on yours but my Mother wasn’t running the same program. I had to be back in the house by the time the street lights came on, standard; otherwise it was on and popping with the belt or extension cord. There was also Mexican; her Mother was Irish and she was rough too-more like bisexual rough with a Mexican Daddy, so {Mexican} Carmona + an only child like me and my Mother was ok with them. Her Mother would have stepped straight up in that ass, too. Consequently, the 3 of us all went to the same school with the nuns; minding the yard stick-yes corporal punishment was in full effect and we were better off for it if ya ask me.                                
                                              
There were a couple of public-school kids whose parents she didn’t know but fun still went to their house: {Greek} M. Mendes + an only child like me and {a sistah a social class away} M. Sanchez; the irony of the situation. Oddly enough, she did meet the Mother of the 3rd girl {Polish} K. Tomaski. Now, they all went to the same school but weren’t friends, nor were they (Mendes-fly, Sanchez-chubby, Tomaski-homely) moved by my (fly) allegiance to each one separately. We just ran up on each other and cliqued right away one on one in the neighbor’s leisure time)----------------------------------                                            
hearing Jimmy Bo Horne’s “Spank” on heavy rotation and the cultural dissonance or “straddling of two realities” might have ate me alive but I knew.                                                
                                              
#you guy-es that was how we talked              
             
(This was a hard write in terms of figuring out how I wanted to present it to you; concisely as possible.)