{ "id":1432316411959, "title":"They Call Me Güero","handle":"they-call-me-guero", "description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eWritten by David Bowles, \u003c\/strong\u003ewho grew up and still lives in the Rio Grande Valley of South Texas. A many- faceted writer, he's the author of\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eFeathered Serpent, Dark Heart of Sky: Myths of Mexico\u003c\/em\u003e. He's a professor at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSeventh-grader Güero starts writing poems, thanks to his teacher. A Mexican-American, he's at home in Spanish or English and on both sides of the river.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eIt 's fun to be a border kid, to wake up early Saturdays\u003cbr\u003eAnd cross the bridge to Mexico with my dad.\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe town's like a mirror twin of our own,\u003cbr\u003eWith Spanish spoken everywhere just the same\u003cbr\u003eBut English mostly missing till it pops up\u003cbr\u003eLike grains of sugar on a spicy pepper.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWe have breakfast in our favorite restorán\u003cbr\u003eDad sips café de olla while I drink chocolate\u003cbr\u003eThen we walk down uneven sidewalks, chatting\u003cbr\u003eWith strangers and friends in both languages.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eLater we load our car with Mexican cokes and Joya,\u003cbr\u003eAvocados and cheese, tasty reminders of our roots.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWaiting in line at the bridge, though, my smile fades.\u003cbr\u003eThe border fence stands tall and ugly, invading\u003cbr\u003eThe carrizo at the river's edge.\u003cbr\u003eDad sees me staring ,\u003cbr\u003ePuts his hand on my shoulder.\u003cbr\u003e\"Don' t worry, m' ijo:\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003e\"You're a border kid, a foot on either bank.\u003cbr\u003eYour ancestors crossed this river a thousand times.\u003cbr\u003eNo wall, no matter how tall, can stop your heritage\u003cbr\u003eFrom flowing forever, like the Río Grande itself.\"\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e\u003cem\u003ePaperback in English\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e\u003cem\u003eAges 9+\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e", "published_at":"2018-11-20T15:43:06", "created_at":"2018-11-20T15:51:08", "vendor":"Booklandia", "type":"Single Book", "tags":[], "price":1295, "price_min":1295, "price_max":1295, "price_varies":false, "compare_at_price":null, "compare_at_price_min":0, "compare_at_price_max":0, "compare_at_price_varies":true, "all_variant_ids":[12847063728183], "variants":[{ "id":12847063728183, "product_id":1432316411959, "product_handle":"they-call-me-guero", "title":"Default Title", "option1":"Default Title", "option2":null, "option3":null, "sku":"", "requires_shipping":true, "taxable":true, "featured_image":null,"image_id":null, "available":true, "name":"They Call Me Güero - Default Title", "options":["Default Title"], "price":1295, "weight":154, "compare_at_price":null, "inventory_quantity":6, "inventory_management":"shopify", "inventory_policy":"deny", "inventory_in_cart":0, "inventory_remaining":6, "incoming":null, "next_incoming_date":null, "taxable":true, "barcode":"9781947627079"}], "available":true,"images":["\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/2199\/1091\/products\/Logo-33_78e48303-d870-4b9b-9883-c13f0373b4e0.jpg?v=1542775991"],"featured_image":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/2199\/1091\/products\/Logo-33_78e48303-d870-4b9b-9883-c13f0373b4e0.jpg?v=1542775991", "options":["Title"], "url":"\/products\/they-call-me-guero"}

They Call Me Güero

Product Description

Written by David Bowles, who grew up and still lives in the Rio Grande Valley of South Texas. A many- faceted writer, he's the author of Feathered Serpent, Dark Heart of Sky: Myths of Mexico. He's a professor at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley.

Seventh-grader Güero starts writing poems, thanks to his teacher. A Mexican-American, he's at home in Spanish or English and on both sides of the river.

It 's fun to be a border kid, to wake up early Saturdays
And cross the bridge to Mexico with my dad.

The town's like a mirror twin of our own,
With Spanish spoken everywhere just the same
But English mostly missing till it pops up
Like grains of sugar on a spicy pepper.

We have breakfast in our favorite restorán
Dad sips café de olla while I drink chocolate
Then we walk down uneven sidewalks, chatting
With strangers and friends in both languages.

Later we load our car with Mexican cokes and Joya,
Avocados and cheese, tasty reminders of our roots.

Waiting in line at the bridge, though, my smile fades.
The border fence stands tall and ugly, invading
The carrizo at the river's edge.
Dad sees me staring ,
Puts his hand on my shoulder.
"Don' t worry, m' ijo:

"You're a border kid, a foot on either bank.
Your ancestors crossed this river a thousand times.
No wall, no matter how tall, can stop your heritage
From flowing forever, like the Río Grande itself."

Paperback in English

Ages 9+

$12.95
Maximum quantity available reached.

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