By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Eric Nicholson
Dear Mexican: I'm a pocha immigration attorney. Why do Mexicans seem to want me to lie to them and steal their money, and tell them they can become residents even when it's hopeless? Why can't Mexicans answer yes or no questions with a yes or no? Why do they have to give me long narratives that make no sense? If Mexicans claim that part of the reason they don't want to be in Mexico is because of government corruption, then why do they ask me to lie for them, and help them to lie? Why are polleros the rudest, most aggressive clients a lawyer could ever have? Why don't mexicanas want a female attorney, while mexicanos seem to think it's kind of cool? When I go into fast food restaurants in my power suits and order tacos, why do the mexicanas selling me the food giggle? When I tell a Mexican I don't think their case is winnable, why do they change from using "usted" with me to "tú"? When I tell a Mexican bad news, why is it that I get so nervous that my pocha accent comes out super strong? Pocha Attorney
Dear Wabette: Mexicans want you to tell them they can become residents because they are paying you to make their hopeless situation a legal one, lies or not. Their "long narratives that make no sense" is otherwise known as America's immigration system. They ask you to lie for them because the alternative is going back to Mexico's cesspool of corruption. Polleros are rude because they're criminals. Mexicanas not wanting you to represent them isn't a pocha thing but a female thing; Mexican men wanting you as an attorney, in turn, is all about an hombre ogling you. As a pocha, you shouldn't be eating fast food in the first place — and the mexicana-on-pocha hate is a female issue that Jezebel can answer. When a Mexican switches from usted to tú, it's because you're no longer someone deserving of their respect but the shyster scamming them out of cash. Finally, you start talking like a pocha because you don't like delivering bad news — that's understandable.
Why do so many Mexican parents let their kids play in the street unsupervised? Whitey
Dear Gabacho: The main reason is there's nowhere else for them to play. The lack of park spaces in barrios is an unfortunate phenomenon well-known to city planners. Compounding that is that most landlords in barrios don't allow kids to play in common areas.