quiltersmuse.com Blog

This morning, UNH Today, a daily e-publication of the University of New Hampshire, reports that 1/2 of the population of the United States is now Hispanic. The reason is that the number of births in that segment outstrips deaths. Even without more immigration statistics, the count is increasing from within this designated group.

Someone pointed out that this may be why we have to push a button on the phone for “English,” when calling large companies.

There are areas, even some in New Hampshire, where you can go if you want to hear Spanish. For example, just go to the Food Court in the Nashua Mall. At many of the fast food establishments of the southern tier of New England, (Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island) that is the case. Portuguese is a language also heard in food establishments.

Certainly, the NH state prison has seen its share of Dominicans and Puerto Ricans. The INS shows up, every now and then, to effect deportation.

Probably due to distance, we do not see many Mexicans or Mexican-Americans, or people who hail from Spain, in New Hampshire. There are hundreds of languages spoken in Concord, New Hampshire, and many of those are spoken by African immigrants whom the Lutheran Church and other groups have sponsored. Off the top of my head, I believe the last reported number of languages spoken in our capital city was 263.

The one point I want to make is the same one that is mentioned in the UNH article. It is not correct to assume that everyone who speaks Spanish is the same (that is racial stereotyping), nor do they even speak exactly the same. Anyone who speaks Spanish can understand another Spanish speaker, just as speakers of American English can understand the British though there are many variances.

In Spanish, individual words may differ. For example, the word for “car” in Spain is “coche”; but in Mexico, it is “carro.” In English, the word for restroom may have other equivalents that mean essentially the same time, the more euphemistic being “powder room.” In England, the area might be called the “loo.” My point is that the same basic language can be different, even though English is English and Spanish is Spanish.

The other difference in Spanish is the manner in which words are pronounced. One example is the dropping of the final “s” in words spoken in Puerto Rico. Another example is the insertion of a “th” sound in certain words spoken in Spain. “Cinco,” the word for “five,” become “Thinco,” as spoken in Spain.

So, not only the words but how they are pronounced are often different and vary between Spanish speaking countries. We are also in the habit of lumping speakers of Spanish under the umbrella term of “Hispanic,” a term that indicates that a person is from Spain. That is correct, according to the Oxford American Dictionary. However, a more specific term for people who originated in this hemisphere is “Latino,” a term that is preferred, according to a professor I once consulted about this matter. However, he does point out that the distinction is not critical. “Hispanic” and “Latino” are words always interchanged in the media.

In this present election process, it seems that the emphasis on Latinos and their purported draining of our resources for health care; and our need to have a wall between Mexico and the U.S., have not been given much play time. On strictly a personal level for immigrants, the situation seems tragic: to have to live in fear of being “found out;” to have children that cannot look forward to much in the future because their education is limited; and to have teenagers who cannot get a driver’s license at the same time their school mates do, is sad.

The whole issue of wanted/yet unwanted immigrants has been overpowering, at times, and has caused much division among people. As we try to make a better life for all, we leave a lot out of this discussion of how we can do right by ourselves and by others. All I know is that we are in this boat called “LIFE,” together, and unless and until we start acting as though we all belong to a collective body called “humanity,” the ship will start sinking fast.

Patricia Cummings

Photos, Film, and Recorded Music all capture the past in a way that surpasses human memory. We often forget what people looked like, or we never knew at all, but photos are somewhat of a vehicle of knowing who they were. To see photos of Ellen Webster, for example, were a thrill. Moreover to view a progression of photos from the time she was a young adult until she was a mature woman, is fun.

Old films bring us images of people who are no longer with us. In my time, so many actors have left the stage permanently, so to speak. Yet, it is nice to see Ronald Reagan, movie actor turned president, and so many others.

Perhaps my favorite old film footage is that which includes Frank Sinatra. I like Frank and his songs and just yesterday, I realized why. He enunciated. You could always tell what he was saying. I enjoy clear communicators, in any medium.

Yes, old photos, films, and recorded music are an important part of our culture. Just last week, I heard that Nat King Cole’s daughter had done another overdub on one of his recordings again. This is beautiful because it means that the music he created is still being adapted, and is being infused with the spirit of his daughter.

It is so good that we can have footage of events. Whenever I see the replay of President Kennedy being assassinated, I step back in time and I can almost smell the apprehension in my seventh grade classroom. The mood of fear was palpable.

To see old photos of homesteads on the prairie, or the cotton fields of the South, or photos of the wives of presidents, make us stop a moment to look back to who we were, when the country was young. To see photos of quilting bees reminds us that they actually were held and are not just a romantic notion from an historical novel.

For families, it is great to see photos of ancestors, even though we may not be quite sure what their names are. It is said that when a man (or woman) dies, a book is lost. I am certain that when my mother passed on, she took a lot of family information to the grave. Yet, she also left a lot of data behind. She took a small, date calendar book and wrote in the birth dates of her siblings and other information.

Some folks are lucky enough to have video cameras. Remember to record your loved ones, on film, frequently. Memories, unrecorded in some way, often fade. Today is tomorrow’s yesterday.

Patricia Cummings
Quilter’s Muse Publications

Some loves one never can forget, not the least of which are pets we have had. My mother spoke fondly of the dog that was companion to her and her ten brothers and sisters. I get very wistful when I think of my old horse, Montana Red, who was a retired camp horse and very gentle. I smile when I recall my miniature poodle who ventured into a six inch high snowstorm when I lived in Victorville, California, an odd occurrence on both counts, that is, the snow, and such a little dog having no fear of it.

I remember my miniature pinscher dog and my cat who chased each other around and around in my house in which the downstairs can be turned into a circular runway, if all the doors to the rooms are open. Now and again, I even think of my pet turtle who ate hamburger and who was purchased at Woolworth’s Five and Dime Store. He went missing for weeks, until he was seen, making it across the floor of my mother’s bedroom, within a dust ball. I believe that is also a commentary on her lack of interest in housekeeping. I suspect that one of my mischievous brothers put the turtle on the floor to begin with, as it had been within its own turtle dish, made with an elevated area for sunning and to be dry.

The few farm animals we had were really pets, too. Some of them became chicken stew and rabbit stew on an impoverished family’s table. I’d never quite thought that would be their end.

The truth of the matter is this: if we are the caretakers of animals (or people), we never can forget them, even if they are no longer here. Our love extends beyond this mortal existence, and if we close our eyes, we can dream of petting that cat, riding that horse, and walking that dog. Animals give us so much and ask so little in return. They are an example of non-conditional love. If you have lost an animal recently, you have my deepest sympathy. While your special pet cannot be replaced, consider the many more pets that wait to be adopted in animal shelters across the country, even purebred dogs. Even if you do get another pet, a part of your heart will always be reserved for the one you have lost.

Patricia Cummings