Day 1: Irish & Italian Immigration
Political Cartoons on Irish Immigration
Primary Source: "The Italians in Chicago" c.1897
Day 2: Jewish, Chinese & Mexican Immigration
Government Poster on Jewish Americanization
Political Cartoons on Chinese Immigration
Bracero Program Interviews
Interview # 1:
Below is a partial transcript of an interview with Angel Guzmán Domínguez who was born in Paraíso, Tabasco, in 1924. Before joining the bracero program, he had a shoe-making business in Tabasco. He joined the bracero program in 1946, working on the railroad and in agriculture in Maryland, Philadelphia, New York, and California. His final contract was in 1956.
I was born in Paraíso, Tabasco, on October 14, 1924. My parents were poor, and there were people even poorer during the time I grew up . . . . I studied, I left and went to study shoemaking. At night I went to the town square, to the little park, right, with my letter in hand. We had this custom of sitting on the benches, and that is where all the talk started. “Listen, guess what, I have a letter my uncle sent me from the United States.” And we started to read it . . . and listen, right there we started to get really excited . . . . We arrived at the [contracting] office, folks from the north, from Aguascalientes, from Zacatecas, from Hermosillo, from all over, to look for a way to leave as a bracero.
We got contracted in Querétaro, and those that got contracted in Querétaro went straight to work on trains, track work. Those that got contracted in Irapuato, Guanajuato, went to agriculture . . . . They didn’t give us any choice in selecting the work. That is how I got to go to Philadelphia, well actually Joppa, Maryland . . . . There were times we waited four months to hear something about work. Picking beets was the hardest work for us. The fields are so big, it takes the longest because each side of a field is three fourths of a mile or one mile each side.
From Philadelphia, they sent me to New York. . . . We went to check out New York, we went to Venus [?], to Times Square, the heart of New York, all of that. We went over there in New York to that all black barrio called Harlem . . . . We got there, had a Coca-Cola, had a pastry, and some girls show up, one says they want to learn to speak Spanish, another wanted to dance danzón [type of dance]. . . . . . . Close by to where we were, there was a county office, no? There were Mexican authorities, a consul representative, or other helpful folks. You could go to ask something, or also they would send us news [newspapers or newsletters]. Sometimes someone on a big motorcycle would arrive to review the camp, asked about a lot of things.
Interview # 2:
Below is a partial transcript of an interview with Max Smallwood, Francis Smallwood, and Jim Stots on 9/25/08 through the Bracero History Project. Max Smallwood is the son of a cotton farmer in Bowman, Arkansas. In the late 1940s, Max’s father hired Mexican laborers through the bracero Program.
[Max Smallwood] They went down there in a bob truck, a ton and a half truck, and picked up—down there at the border, they contracted with the Mexican officials—twenty-five Mexicans. Brought them up here and housed them on the farm in old World War I or World War II army barracks brought into this area for that purpose…from one of area forts. …They built bunk beds out of wood and filled them with cotton seed. And that’s what the braceros slept on. And they kept them here only for the cotton harvest . . . . Each group normally had one in there who was bilingual. And there was a Mexican consulate in Memphis. If they encountered any problems over here they could contact the consulate. And they could air their gripes and the consulate would act accordingly. So, there was some supervision over the braceros other than just the farmers who went after them . . . . I remember a couple of instances [where a bracero went to the consulate]. There would be somebody that wasn’t satisfied with the circumstances, and they appealed to them over there. But really, I don’t remember any of the consequences . . . . I think maybe in the two or three years that we had them, maybe one of the braceros might of went back to Mexico, because he was dissatisfied.
Interview # 3:
Below is a partial transcript of an interview with Arnulfo Pompa on 1/12/08 through the Bracero History Project. Arnulfo Pompa was born on August 14, 1962 in El Mirage, Arizona. He is the youngest of six children. His father and mother came from Mexico to the U.S. through the bracero program in 1947. Arnulfo attended Arizona State University part-time while working. At the time of the interview, he worked in management at Qwest Communications.
One thing about Goodyear farms: it was almost like slave labor for the people who were working there. My dad—there weren’t minimum wages back then—didn’t get paid a lot of money. There was this store there called Abraham’s . . . . Again, this was all owned by Goodyear Farms. And that was the only grocery store we knew of. So, it was two or three miles from our house. We would drive up and shop for groceries. The arrangement they had—as long as you worked at Goodyear farms—you were allowed to charge your food if you didn’t have any money. So, I remember it was always trying to catch up. My mom and dad couldn’t do it. There were six kids they had to feed. We’d get to the store and I remember my mom and dad buying food. It was like a forty-eight dollar bill. I remember my dad [having to say] go ahead and charge it to my account. I don’t have any money. So, I remember the next paycheck— he’d get paid every 15 days— . . . was probably two dollars. We’re expected to arrive from point A when we only have two dollars for fifteen days…. We had to go [work in the fields]. At the same time, we had to do our homework . . . . Our fallback—all of us—was education. I mean that was the only way I knew of….I think if you were to see my family, Rumera’s family, Rosa’s, how successful we all have been…Write your thoughts as you read.
Below is a partial transcript of an interview with Angel Guzmán Domínguez who was born in Paraíso, Tabasco, in 1924. Before joining the bracero program, he had a shoe-making business in Tabasco. He joined the bracero program in 1946, working on the railroad and in agriculture in Maryland, Philadelphia, New York, and California. His final contract was in 1956.
I was born in Paraíso, Tabasco, on October 14, 1924. My parents were poor, and there were people even poorer during the time I grew up . . . . I studied, I left and went to study shoemaking. At night I went to the town square, to the little park, right, with my letter in hand. We had this custom of sitting on the benches, and that is where all the talk started. “Listen, guess what, I have a letter my uncle sent me from the United States.” And we started to read it . . . and listen, right there we started to get really excited . . . . We arrived at the [contracting] office, folks from the north, from Aguascalientes, from Zacatecas, from Hermosillo, from all over, to look for a way to leave as a bracero.
We got contracted in Querétaro, and those that got contracted in Querétaro went straight to work on trains, track work. Those that got contracted in Irapuato, Guanajuato, went to agriculture . . . . They didn’t give us any choice in selecting the work. That is how I got to go to Philadelphia, well actually Joppa, Maryland . . . . There were times we waited four months to hear something about work. Picking beets was the hardest work for us. The fields are so big, it takes the longest because each side of a field is three fourths of a mile or one mile each side.
From Philadelphia, they sent me to New York. . . . We went to check out New York, we went to Venus [?], to Times Square, the heart of New York, all of that. We went over there in New York to that all black barrio called Harlem . . . . We got there, had a Coca-Cola, had a pastry, and some girls show up, one says they want to learn to speak Spanish, another wanted to dance danzón [type of dance]. . . . . . . Close by to where we were, there was a county office, no? There were Mexican authorities, a consul representative, or other helpful folks. You could go to ask something, or also they would send us news [newspapers or newsletters]. Sometimes someone on a big motorcycle would arrive to review the camp, asked about a lot of things.
Interview # 2:
Below is a partial transcript of an interview with Max Smallwood, Francis Smallwood, and Jim Stots on 9/25/08 through the Bracero History Project. Max Smallwood is the son of a cotton farmer in Bowman, Arkansas. In the late 1940s, Max’s father hired Mexican laborers through the bracero Program.
[Max Smallwood] They went down there in a bob truck, a ton and a half truck, and picked up—down there at the border, they contracted with the Mexican officials—twenty-five Mexicans. Brought them up here and housed them on the farm in old World War I or World War II army barracks brought into this area for that purpose…from one of area forts. …They built bunk beds out of wood and filled them with cotton seed. And that’s what the braceros slept on. And they kept them here only for the cotton harvest . . . . Each group normally had one in there who was bilingual. And there was a Mexican consulate in Memphis. If they encountered any problems over here they could contact the consulate. And they could air their gripes and the consulate would act accordingly. So, there was some supervision over the braceros other than just the farmers who went after them . . . . I remember a couple of instances [where a bracero went to the consulate]. There would be somebody that wasn’t satisfied with the circumstances, and they appealed to them over there. But really, I don’t remember any of the consequences . . . . I think maybe in the two or three years that we had them, maybe one of the braceros might of went back to Mexico, because he was dissatisfied.
Interview # 3:
Below is a partial transcript of an interview with Arnulfo Pompa on 1/12/08 through the Bracero History Project. Arnulfo Pompa was born on August 14, 1962 in El Mirage, Arizona. He is the youngest of six children. His father and mother came from Mexico to the U.S. through the bracero program in 1947. Arnulfo attended Arizona State University part-time while working. At the time of the interview, he worked in management at Qwest Communications.
One thing about Goodyear farms: it was almost like slave labor for the people who were working there. My dad—there weren’t minimum wages back then—didn’t get paid a lot of money. There was this store there called Abraham’s . . . . Again, this was all owned by Goodyear Farms. And that was the only grocery store we knew of. So, it was two or three miles from our house. We would drive up and shop for groceries. The arrangement they had—as long as you worked at Goodyear farms—you were allowed to charge your food if you didn’t have any money. So, I remember it was always trying to catch up. My mom and dad couldn’t do it. There were six kids they had to feed. We’d get to the store and I remember my mom and dad buying food. It was like a forty-eight dollar bill. I remember my dad [having to say] go ahead and charge it to my account. I don’t have any money. So, I remember the next paycheck— he’d get paid every 15 days— . . . was probably two dollars. We’re expected to arrive from point A when we only have two dollars for fifteen days…. We had to go [work in the fields]. At the same time, we had to do our homework . . . . Our fallback—all of us—was education. I mean that was the only way I knew of….I think if you were to see my family, Rumera’s family, Rosa’s, how successful we all have been…Write your thoughts as you read.