Celebrate this

Bear with me as I try not to roll my eyes as I share the news, gleaned from my school inbox, that tomorrow is "National Multicultural Diversity Day," sponsored, or so it would seem, by the Department of Redundancy Department, All Talk and No Action Division. I was charged with reading this announcement at the very end of my third block class, and given that it explained that this day was created by a fourth grade teacher (of course!) who saw a need to "increase awareness of our tremendous need to celebrate our diversity collectively,"I wasn't surprised when I was asked to translate.

"Wellll, I guess it's a day to show how happy people are to be different."

"But they're not!" comes the retort, but the tone is not serious. As well-acquainted as they already are with the ways of the world, they know that some teacher's bulletin board for a made-up holiday is not going to be life-changing.

"Wellll," I smile back with a shrug, "I guess the idea is that if they pretend to be often enough, eventually they will be."

And then we went back to discussing Maria's quinceañera, to finally be held the next evening, and what time did I really need to be there in order not to miss the traditional dances that she and the boys have been practicing for months.


I suppose I could claim that party was my Multicultural Diversity Day, given that my family and I plus one white-haired gentleman who may have been the priest made up 3/4 of the non-Mexicans in attendance (and I do mean three of literally four people out of hundreds in the church gym), but that's not what it was. It was a real invitation gladly accepted, dinner with fellow parents, catching up with former students, fun on the dance floor: a night with friends.

At the moment I'm not sure whether it means anything that the hosting family has lived in that town for years and years and yet still seems so separate from the Americans; if I went to a reception at the black church up the street, I could draw the same conclusion, but it would be wrong, at least in a way. All I wish for this morning is that I had a way of getting the video from last night's party and setting it up for that so-called diversity display. I'd fast forward through all the Duranguense music and dancing (which even I tried), and set up in a constant loop the few minutes when all those Mexican teenagers line-danced to Achey Breaky Heart--in Spanish!--while the band took a break. For the record, I sat that one out, but I'd give anything to see what that multicultural committee would make of it.