Page 1: Editors Thoughts

Our Featured Artist this month is Zeke Sena. A very Spiritual and Knowledgeable man of Native American Art and customs. As I was writing his interview I started to reflect on my own heritage, and how I've become the person I'am.

My Father,(he's gone now), was Mexican. My Mother is German. She left him and divorced when I was about 5 years old. We moved away from a small town called Watsonville where my siblings, two Sisters and a brother were born. I was born a few miles north of there on a beach called Santa Cruz. I'm the youngest, although this time next year we will all be in our 60's.I can remember back to the time I was about6-7 years old. There was something different about me from the other kids. Maybe the fact that they were white and I was brown had something to do with it..LOL..but it was more than that. The small town Watsonville, was full of Mexicans, Fillipinos, and Japanese...Still is. So when My Mother left my Father and moved to San Jose, we lived in a normal white neighborhood. We were the only children of color on the whole street. I remember my friends parents saying to me, "What a nice tan you have...are you Italian?"...it was as if they never heard or seen a Mexican...This was 1950ish don't forget.

Then one day when I was in the 4th grade, our teacher brought in this young man with blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a grey suit, and introduced him to the class as Mr.Shroder..(or something like that)...He was to be our German Language teacher. German?...I'm German...I raised my arm and waved it like a Flag, and shouted out "I'm German!"... The words echoed through my head, the room, and the Halls of the school, all they way to the Janitors boiler room in the basement. Finally I had a connection to who I was... Herr Shroder was somewhat confused. Out of 29 white kids, one dark kid claimed his linage...Had I known a little German name like Hitler, I probably wouldn't have been so eager....Hey, these were patriotic times. It had only been 12 or 15 years since the war...

I embraced the German language. I was after all the best in my class.I dreamed of someday returning to my motherland and visiting my relatives somewhere in Auchen...or was it Munich?.. it didn't matter, I was ready. I spoke the language, loved Shwine, Bratwurst, Sauerkraut, and somewhere was a pair of LeaderHosen with my name on it...

29 years later, I forgot my German, or most of it. Some where along the way I became Mexican, Chicano, Latino, and Hispanic. My wife and I finally made it to Germany. I was excited to say the least. After we landed and got to our hotel in Munshau, We walked up to the hotel desk and asked for our reservations. The desk Clerk looked at me and asked, "Are you on vacation?"..."Yes We are"...I said... " Nice tan, You must be Italian...!"
Good Grief!

Have a Great July everyone...capt.



captphrank@gmail.com
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Remember, Where We go One, We go All...
captphrank
(Editor)

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