The Golden Cage

Usually when I hear people talking about Mexico they are either discussing a hot vacation spot or migration issues. Therefore, it is not surprising to find that a good portion of this course is concerned with Mexican migration, specifically Oaxacan migrant history. As pointed out by Jeffery Cohen in the opening phrase of Contemporary Migration, one of the chapters in his work on Mexican migratory culture, “Why Oaxacans migrate is not an easy question to answer.” (73) The usual, or expected, explanation is similar to that of Alfonso Torres, “I went to the United States for economic opportunities I couldn’t find here” (Cohen 73). Upon reading through Cohen’s work I have found little discussion on undocumented Mexican immigrants living in The United States. However, in class Dr. Overmeyer-Velasquez played a song for us, where the protagonist makes the analogy of living and working in America without a Visa, as living in “a cage of gold.”

 

I first heard the term “The Golden Cage” during a class presentation in my Philosophy of Education course last spring. I remember the reaction from the class, they were blown away by the introspection of the young boy who wrote the poem (we all figured the boy had come up with it himself). Recently, I was surprised to find that the term was not originally created by the little boy, in his poem, but has been used in Mexican culture for many years now, in lore regarding American migration. Specifically, the phrase may be found in the popular song “La Jaula de Oro (The Cage of Gold)” by Los Tigres del Norte, a group famous for their corrido’s, a tradition style, of Mexican folk music, which includes the most famous revolutionary song “La Cucaracha”. The song “La Jaula de Oro” ends with (translated to English):

 

My children don't speak with me, they've learned another language,

and forgotten Spanish, they think like Americans,

they deny that they are Mexicans although they have my [skin] color,

from work to home I don't know what happens to me,

and even though I am the man of the house I don't go out into the street,

I am afraid that they'll find me and they can deport me,

What good is Money to me if I'm like a prisoner in this great nation,

when I think of this I even cry and although this cage is made of gold it doesn't stop being a prison. (Enrique Franco, 1983)

 

The term obviously refers to the curious position in which undocumented Mexican entrants find themselves while living and working in The United States.

 

Personally, I find this topic difficult to talk about, as my mother’s family has a recent migrant past, my grandparents immigrated from Cuba to the United States fifty years ago. As a result, I find that I have lost most every sense of my cultural heritage; in many ways I have been completely assimilated into the Anglo-American cultural paradigm. It makes me sad to think that I might have sounded much like the children in the song when I was younger, because now I struggle to recapture something from my Cuban heritage.  My heritage has been lost - eroded over time by the cosmic force of entropy. The amount of work it might take to restore the sense of being fully Cuban would be immense, and in many respects unfeasible.  Much like the stone construction I spoke of in my previous blog entry, an analogy serves to explain.  One can rebuild a wall once it has broken down and it may be similar in many ways to the original wall, in location, height, etc; but it can never be the same, erosion takes its toll and the order and position of the rocks change.  Ultimately, we find that nearly every component of the wall’s structure is different. The concept of the golden cage applies not only to the man, but his children as well, insofar as the process of assimilating into the American cultural paradigm has led them to give up their authentic Mexican identity. It would require much work in order to regain such an identity and would not be as authentic, hence the tears of the father.  The family is forced to accept the heretical gap produced by the hegemonic nature of the American Cultural paradigm. Yet another major consequence of modernity and the globalization of the world’s people: we loose touch with our authentic selves while wrestling with the realization of our unique being and place in the world. All of which, a reiteration of the need for a more human world, one comprised of fully realized adult citizens; persons who bear the weight of responsibility and accountability, the very qualities needed to foster such growth and development, again, manifest by the realization of a more humane society, and consequentially a more humane world.

Jeremy