Reunited in LA

August 17, 1920

Dear Mama,

I am so happy to finally be able to write to you! How is everything back in Chihuahua? I wanted to tell you about how I finally reunited with Carlos in El Paso and how we eventually made it to Los Angeles, California.

When Carlos first went to the United States to earn money for our family, I rarely worried about being able to see him again. I grew accustomed to his cycle of taking the train into Texas to work the fields and returning home to me every winter. When rumors started swirling of a new Immigration Act in 1917, Carlos decided it would be best if he stayed in America permanently. I worried so much that I would never see him again, and that our family would suffer dearly without his earnings. When he suggested that I move to Texas with him, I was initially very excited, but turned quite fearful of the border. My English is still poor, but my Spanish was strong enough for me to pass that daunting literacy test. But the literacy test ended up being the least of my worries. I was forced to remove my clothes and take a bath, like some stray dog brought in off the street. It was humiliating! I hesitated to even tell you. Reliving that moment makes me sick to my stomach. I overheard a man say, “they disinfected us as if we were some kind of animals that were bringing germs,” (56). I could not describe the feeling better myself.

When I finally made it to El Paso, my clothes now wrinkled and smelling of chemicals, I was elated to jump into my husband’s arms. Carlos was just as happy to see me and had some surprising news—he intended for us to leave Texas for Los Angeles as soon as possible. He said he wanted to get away from the Texas recruiters who had so used him in the past. There would be more money in Los Angeles. He also thought I would appreciate being able to live in a real city with a growing Mexican community. He would simply commute to work so we could have the best of both worlds. Knowing little of America myself, how could I say no?

So now we are in East Los Angeles in a neighborhood called Boyle Heights. We have settled into the barrio well and have made friends. I am still figuring out how I will spend my time. An American woman is offering English and sewing classes and encouraged me to join. She admired my sewing skills and said I had the potential to be a seamstress. But she said I would never fit in in this country if I didn’t learn to speak English. Perhaps I will join her English class so I can improve. I am still confused as to why she is so concerned about my activities. Is she simply being kind or is there some ulterior motive to her actions?

I must go now, but please write me back as soon as you can! I am eager to hear about how you and the family are doing.

Love,

Clara