Stereotype Judgments Often Fail Us

There has been a failure in the system. You wont read about it in your newspaper- you wont hear about it on the radio; however it happened and now I live with the consequences.

Pride is a word that is hard to define. Many of us would never ask for help, except as a last resort. How many of us would starve rather than asking for help?

We are being overrun with illegal aliens from mexico, states like California are facing bankruptcy, at least in part, because of the drain on the public services provided illegal aliens in the form of health care, education, ad welfare payments. Many of these illegal aliens work extremely hard to provide for their families and many ‘game’ the system like a racket or con game. It is a sad situation that affects most of the country.

I am against illegal immigration, but I don’t have a badge and it isn’t my responsibility. Especially, now that President Obama is threatening police who try to enforce our laws against illegal aliens; however, there are many legal Hispanics that we assume are illegal because of their poor English or their humble living circumstances. That is when our concept of stereotypes fails us.

About ten years ago, I lost a dog that seemed to be about as close to my personality as a dog could be; he had wandered on my farm as a feral pup and took over the grounds as if I was the trespasser. There was something in the dog that appealed to me and I made it my personal mission to tame the wild little beast. He was smaller than one of my #12 boots and had the personality of a mountain lion. It took six weeks for him to be touched by me and by then he was considerably larger. I was a little nervous and I have dealt with some fairly rank horses that have maimed and killed people. None the less, I touched him and a bond was formed- a bond that grew stronger with time.

He traveled with me in my work into Canada and to the East Coast and never let anyone touch him; he instinctively knew how to help me with difficult horses and protected me a couple of times when horses got away from me or turned on me. He was obviously part Akita and had dedicated his life to me.

He was hit by a car one day, in front of my farm, one of the saddest days of my life. I was devastated and quit working for awhile.

I never go to bars, when you look like me, there is always someone in there that wants to be beat up and they inevitably try to start a fight with the biggest, baddest looking, hard ass guy in the bar and that is usually me, naturally I try to avoid bars. However, I felt the need to talk to somone and went over to the Polo Club’s Cantina think I would find an old friend and share a round of beer or two.

I’d stopped working polo ten years earlier to move on to more lucrative horses and jobs, but I still had a few friends there. It was a slow night and I watched the guys play pool and said hello to a few people, but there was no one I’d really call a friend. Finally, an Hispanic groom that I had known from the old days, when he was just barely a man, walked up and said I really looked bad and asked if something was wrong. He sat down and I told him about the loss of my friend. He was genuinely concerned and listened to my story when he could have been playing pool and laughing with the guys.

He was a soft spoken, quiet man who loved all animals and loved working with such well trained horses. He came here as a boy and made the cut during Reagan’s Amnesty program and was now a bona fide citizen. He had no education, but could read fairly well and was a hard working groom who made an honest living.

After listening to my story, he told me to go to the pound and get another dog. I eventually went to a pound and adopted a dog that is my constant companion and best friend, I owe my Hispanic friend for first directing me to make that move, one that I now suggest to other people in similar situations.

He lived in a ramshackle trailer on the same property that my mechanic for my German cars has his shop, I’d say “hi” and we would talk to each other about our dogs. It was casual, but I always enjoyed seeing my friend.

The Polo horses leave the desert for the summer and usually the grooms travel to other Northern polo clubs or find work on the local farms, but like most businesses, the horse industry has been hit hard by this recession. His landlord asked me if I had any work at the farm for this guy and I said I had decided not to farm this year because of the high expense and not being able to absorb a loss if things went South. He said the groom didn’t have a job for the summer and was looking for work. I said “no” and that is something I will always regret.

I didn’t realize how desperate the situation was. My friend starved to death. His landlord and my mechanic took him to the hospital, but the doctors said his body had shut down and he died a few hours later.

Now, most people will say, “Why didn’t he get food stamps.”

How many of us have said we would never go on welfare? This is one guy who meant it and he died rather than compromising his pride.

He could have come to me and asked to do yard work for money to eat on and I would have said, “of course”. The front yard is two acres and is way too much for me to take care of, if I’d have known how desperate the situation was, I would have bought him food. He was skinny as a rail his whole life and when I saw him a few weeks before he died, I mistakenly thought he might be using drugs because he looked so poorly.

Now his landlord, my mechanic, and me- all feel at least partially responsible for not stepping in and doing something. Not that any of us are doing well, but the country is a little worse off without this gentle Mexican American Man with too much pride.