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Growing up in rural South Texas, I traveled the world through the books I checked out at the Alice Public Library. Back then I knew in my heart of hearts that someday I would visit those faraway places. I was already in my 20s the first time I set foot on an airplane, and although I don’t enjoy flying, I gladly get on airplanes several times a year because within a few hours of boarding I reconnect with family and friends, and I know that new and amazing experiences await me. I realized early on that travel nourished my heart and soul, and squirreling away funds for this purpose has been a priority my entire adult life. I’ve been out of the country much of the past three months: Six weeks in Cuba, and most recently two weeks in Tanzania. Ernest Hemingway wrote about these places with great love and affection, and it is easy to see why. The people are warm and welcoming and natural beauty abounds. Although I’ve visited both these countries previously these new visits brought additional discoveries. The wildlife in the Serengeti and Ngorogoro Crater is spectacular: we saw and shot (pictures of) elephants, zebras, giraffes, lions, gazelles, cheetahs, baboons, hippos and even the rarely seen black rhinos. And although I’m not a birder, the variety of birds is astounding. Learned so much about nature and the adaptations created by environmental conditions. Saw bits and pieces of the great migration of wildebeests, zebras and gazelles. The sunsets and sunrises are breathtaking. If you’ve ever considered taking a photo safari, do yourself the favor of making it happen. It is not a relaxing vacation, it is exhausting adventure travel, and so well worth the effort. These memories will be with you the rest of your life. On a name related note, it was interesting that Swahili-speaking Tanzanians and Dutch-speaking folks from the Netherlands said Irma beautifully without any hesitation and needed no coaching. Although there are Irma's in The Netherlands, no Tanzanians knew anyone from their country who had that name. The final leg of this journey was a visit to Amsterdam (my first time here). In spite of the bitter cold I am charmed by its beauty and the ingenuity that keeps this city intact in spite of it being below sea level. The city teems with creativity and art; its residents among the most polite and considerate people I’ve ever encountered. I was offered a seat in every crowded tram I rode, which I politely declined. It’s now time to return to my other great passion: storytelling. I am looking forward to a very active year of performing with fellow storytellers as part of The Marsh Theater’s Times Unseen Project and in my one-woman show, Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? Details to follow in later posts. And super excited to join forces with Theresa Donahoe in A Brown and A White Mexican Share the Stage in Marsh Madness Weekend in San Francisco’s Marsh Theatre on Saturday, March 10th at 1 pm. In back to back 20-minute segments Theresa performs a 20-minute excerpt from her play, Confessions of a White Mexican, and I will debut new material in a stand-alone piece, Your Name is What? Look forward to seeing my Bay Area friends at the San Francisco Marsh Theatre on Saturday, March 10 at 1 pm. Tickets at the door ($10) or you can guarantee yourself a seat by purchasing tickets online ($12) at: https://themarsh.org/civicrm/?page=CiviCRM&q=civicrm/event/register&reset=1&id=2288

A friend mentioned that she must have fallen off my mailing list -- she hadn’t gotten my blog in some time. Wow, I had not sent anything out for three months. In late November I went to Havana and returned home in mid-January. I had amazing experiences there and getting on the internet was not one of them. In future blogs I'll say more about my six-weeks in Cuba. I had a super exciting 2017 and worked and reworked the material of my one-woman show, Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? Originally called Tell Me Your Name, I’ve kept this as the working title for a companion book about names. In the process of writing and performing I’ve learned so much about how names shape our identity and sense of place in the world. I’ve done lots of research in the fields of sociology, psychology, history, politics . . . and have unearthed so much information on the subject. The play is the tip of the iceberg, and I am excited to put together this book, although progress on that front is slow. I performed my play last year at teatros in Fresno, San Antonio, and San Francisco. Was thrilled that many of the performance were sold-out houses and that my play was named Best of Fringe, at the SF Fringe Festival. I also performed at a retreat in San Diego for a national law firm. Perhaps the most exciting part of doing this work is hearing your stories about your own names or the names of someone you know and love. A young woman from Southern California told me the following story: Her spouse, a newly minted MBA had gotten his dream job with an investment firm. His resume gave his full name, Miguel Jason Pérez, (I have used a different name to protect their privacy, but have kept the convention of an identifiable Spanish first name). First day at work he is welcomed warmly and shown his nice office. The Managing Partner points to business cards on his desk and tells Miguel that the firm took the liberty of printing his business cards using only his middle name: Jason Perez (no accent). “We think our clients will be more comfortable.” According to his wife, it was an awkward situation to encounter on his first day at work, at a job he worked really hard to get. Miguel was at a loss for words and said nothing. Is this a micro (or macro) aggression? I’m eager to hear your thoughts on this. Before I share other exciting news, I want to highlight two good friends who are doing great work in the creative sphere. Diane Barnes’ one-woman show, My Stroke of Luck, has gotten its second extension at The Marsh and will play through the end of March. Bay Area people, be sure to see it. More info and reasonably priced tickets at: https://themarsh.org/my_stroke_of_luck/diane-barnes/ Linda González' memoir, The Cost of Our Lives is about to be released, and is already available on Kindle. She is having a number of book-launch parties, including one at my home the afternoon of Sunday, March 25th. If you live in the Bay Area, send me your email me and I’ll make sure you get an evite. I’ve read and discussed bits and pieces of the story with this very talented mujer. Reading the final product is both moving and a thrill. Congratulations, Linda. Get her book through your independent bookstore or order directly from the publisher: http://widopublishing.com/the-cost-of-our-lives-by-linda-gonzalez-2/ It isn’t often that the stories of women of color are on the stage or the page, so support these fabulous compañeras. I am so inspired by the creativity that I see all around me. And each and EVERY ONE of you is creative, not just folks who paint, write books and plays, or perform. Some folks express their creatively in cooking, the clothes you wear, how you style your hair, how you furnish your home/apt, in the actions that you take to promote justice and fairness. There are infinite ways to use our creativity. Stay in touch with your creative side, it will bring you great joy. It certainly does that for me. Some other exciting news at my end . . . I’m participating in the Times Unseen Initiative at The Marsh and had my first performance in a group show in late January. Here is the description of this project from the Marsh’s website: “Times Unseen will chronicle the effect of political change on individuals. One of the stark lessons of the recent election is the ideological divide between regions in America. We have a team of Marsh Artists who have personal connections to the disparate social, geographical, and political regions of America. We are asking them to interview people – Americans talking to Americans about family, love, safety, health, finances etc., in a time of political change. And our artists will bring what they hear back to the Marsh and make theater of it. Times Unseen: because we are in new territory politically, and because politics, for better or for worse, are about promises of a changed future, times as yet unseen. Times Unseen will culminate in a Festival of New Work, in time for the midterm elections in 2018, with workshop performances along the way.” For more info about this project visit The Marsh’s website: https://themarsh.org/times_unseen/times-unseen-initiative-prepared-pieces/ And finalmente . . . I’ll be performing new material in a 20-minute show titled, Your Name is WHAT? on Saturday afternoon, March 10th at 1 pm, at The Marsh in SF. Fellow Bay Area solo-performer, Theresa Donahoe, and I will be sharing a 40-minute slot during Marsh Madness, a weekend of performances at The Marsh Theatre. Theresa will present an excerpt from her new show, Confessions of a White Mexican. More info at: https://themarsh.org/marsh-madness/marsh-madness/ Come enjoy a Saturday matinee, lots of food for thought in these stories. And plenty of great restaurants just around the corner from The Marsh, so treat yourself to an afternoon outing on Saturday, March 10. I’m so grateful for all the support you have given me as I have sought to reinvent myself and create a new career over the past several years. Muchisimas gracias.

Yuli Gurriel’s Gesture and the Word Chinito Yuli Gurriel’s pulling at the corner of his eyes in the dugout was a racist gesture. I'll repeat: the gesture was racist and he will face the music by getting a suspension. For the record, I don’t follow sports, and my knee-jerk view was that he should have been suspended immediately, but I do understand why his suspension was deferred. So let me repeat myself, Gurriel’s gesture was racist, and that his gesture was accompanied by his calling out chinito, leads me to think hard about this word -- one that I myself use in a scene in my one-woman show. I describe leaving my segregated (Anglo-Mexican American) South Texas hometown of 18,000 for the big city -- San Antonio. For me this was as exciting as moving to New York. Here's the line: “It was in San Antonio that I first had Chinese food, prepared and served by real chinitos.” My wish is to express the awe and wonder of meeting people I'd not encountered before. But as we know, words, even in one's native language can be subject to various interpretations. When we translate from another language, there is plenty of room for misunderstanding. Sonia Sotomayor and La Raza When Sonia Sotomayor was nominated to United States Supreme Court much was made of the fact she had served on the Board of the National Council of La Raza, a well-respected advocacy organization (recently renamed LatinosUS) that seeks to improve opportunities for the Hispanic/Latino community in this country in all spheres -- education, health, employment, civic engagement. Conservative media and many a politician accused her of playing “race politics” and being a racist for having served on the board of a group with the word Raza in its name. Pundits and politicians translated this word as race. One news account said that a Republican leader equated her nomination to proposing that the head of the KuKluxKlan be allowed to sit on the court. (Disclaimer: I have not tracked down the original source of this statement.) I grew up hearing the words nuestra Raza, and it did not connote a notion that we were a separate race; it was used to reference our community. I always thought of nuestra raza as all those people that come in every hue and shade who share some degree or another of a common ancestral language (Spanish) and various Hispano/Indigenous cultures of the Southwestern United States, Mexico, and Central and South America. Yes, a google search will tell you that the word raza has multiple meanings, and one of them is race, but I believe that the majority of folks in the United States of Mexican-American ancestry use the word interchangeably with nuestra gente, our people. Words Most Definitely Matter and Meaning Sometimes Lost In Translation The Gurriel incident has me taking a long hard look at the word chinito. Let me explain that I have never associated the words chino or chinito (since Spanish is a gendered language we also use the words china and chinita) as racial slurs. In my world it is the equivalent of using the word Asian, as I do in the following sentence (imagine me saying it completely in Spanish). “I hike every Sunday morning with a group of good friends, several of them are chinitas.” In Spanish chino applies broadly to all Asian folks although the word also means Chinese. Note that here in the US we use Asian to refer to people with origins in China, Japan, Thailand, Vietnam, Burma, and India (S.Asian) to name a few countries. I suppose it's like using Xerox to refer to all duplicate copies, when in fact some are Canon, Hewlett Packard or another type. Although we know the difference it is generic for any duplicate copy as the use of chino is generic for persons of Asian ancestry. The former President of Peru, Aruberuto (Alberto) Fujimori, was referred to as El Chino throughout Latin America, even as folks knew he was of Japanese ancestry. Came across a tweet yesterday by some white guy saying Latinos are so stupid that we don’t even know the difference between Chinese and Japanese, but I digress. When Should a Word Be Retired? If members of the Asian community in the United States find our use of the Spanish word chino offensive, even if we don’t intend it to be, it’s important to engage in dialogue and to consider other terms in its stead. Oriental was once a commonly used English word referring to folks with ancestral roots in the Far East and eventually was retired as we became aware that it was viewed as offensive by Asians. Attached is an article by LA Sports Writer Dylan Hernandez offering his personal perspective on the Yuli Gurriel racist gesture incident and use of the word chino. It’s of interest that Hernandez’ mother was born in Japan and his father in El Salvador. http://www.latimes.com/sports/la-sp-dodgers-hernandez-20171027-story.html) I encourage you to read Hernandez' column, and I’d like to highlight this passage: “I’m not naïve to think there isn’t racism in Latin America, particularly toward indigenous people. But it would be misguided to view anything race-related from another culture through a American perspective. This country’s history of race relations is particularly ugly. If you direct a racial slur or make a racist gesture toward an Asian American person, the words carry the weight of the past, everything from the Chinese Exclusion Act to the internment of Japanese Americans in World War II. Those of us who are ethnic minoriites are often sensitive to racially insensitive language because history tells us they are sometimes precursors to legislation intended to disenfranchise people who look like us. “ Talking about race and racism is complicated in any sphere, and it’s important that communities of color not shy away from these hard conversations with each other. We cannot afford to be tone deaf to our groups' experiences of prejudice and racism. What are your views about the use of these terms? First and foremost we need to hear from Asian friends and allies about your experiences and feelings when you hear Latinos using the words chino and chinito. Eager to hear from Latinos/Hispanos/Raza about your views of these terms tambien.

It’s been difficult to write a newsletter these past few weeks. I put my hands on the computer keys and my thoughts turn to the devastating disasters all around: earthquakes, hurricanes (including one named Irma), mass shooting in Las Vegas, and now wildfires in Northern California. As I've breathed the smoky air and touched the fine ash, I think of the pain and untold losses of tens of thousands of displaced folks. Among the most vulnerable: immigrant communities, backbone of the winery and tourism industries in California’s beautiful wine region. They work so hard and have so little, and are so hard hit. Please give generously to help folks affected by the wildfires and continue supporting Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands, and Mexico. Last Show of 2017 at The SF Marsh Theater My last show this year is part of The Marsh Rising Series, described in the Marsh website https://themarsh.org/rising/rising/ as “One-Night-Only performances of rising talent at The Marsh San Francisco. Marsh Rising presents works in progress that may be ready for an extended run.” YES, I am super excited about this show on Wednesday, November 15th 7:30 pm. Filling the house is important, so please come. If you saw my play last year at Ross Valley Players, you'll see a very different show. And if you saw an excerpt of my show sometime this year at Tell It On Tuesday in Berkeley or Solo Sundays in San Francisco, come catch the rest of the story. My goal is to get an extended run at The Marsh sometime next year. Thanks to your warm reception and strong attendance, Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? earned a Best of 2017 SF Fringe Award. While I would be thrilled to see you again at my last show this year, I totally understand that you have plenty of other great things to do with your valuable time. PLEASE tell your friends and encourage them to attend. I’m offering a money-back guarantee to anyone who attends: don't like it get your money back. Audience Reviews I'm happy to share some of the wonderful audience reviews posted at the SF Fringe website: http://www.theexit.org/reviews/why-r/. I loved reading each and every one of them. What’s not to love about these!! I’ve had the opportunity to follow the evolution of this play and the growth of its author/star, Irma Herrera. The messages are powerful and thought-provoking and the well-placed humor makes it a wonderfully entertaining experience. I know the play will be different each time it’s performed and look forward to every new performance. Rena P. Go see Irma’s heartfelt, comical, lushly-ethnic one-woman personal journey about our American experience that transcends race, age, geography. She made me LOL, cry, smile, and grimace with her stories that really hit home in today’s reality. Ron W. Poignant and moving; turning angst and life experience into humor – Irma’s one-woman show was Laugh Out Loud – the complete package. The audience participation made us a part of her story. Her accents were flawless. Speaking of racism and exclusion to the inclusive SF Fringe crowd is truly preaching to the choir, but to a choir that may not have experienced it viscerally as she has. My husband (the computer science geek) had tears in his eyes for most of her show. Her messages are important – on the level of Southern Poverty Law Center – Morris Dees – you would love this show. We thought of Sonia Sotomayor. In a world of increasing hate, Irma gives us a mirror but one we can digest. This is how history should be taught in school. This is how kids could learn tolerance. All that said, it’s pure entertainment. Jayah P. Thanks Rena, Ron, and Jayah and all y’all who wrote kind and thoughtful reviews. How I Got Into Solo Performance I’m often asked how I went from being a lawyer to playwright and solo performer. The answer lies at The Marsh. When I left my job as Executive Director at Equal Rights Advocates, my plan was to take a year off to travel and take some classes and revaluate where I wanted to go with my career. One of the things I wanted to do that year was to get back to a novel I had started three decades ago. I had a great year of travel (including my trip to Copenhagen where I discovered my namesake store). And then by happenstance I returned back to the paid labor force with a half-time job at a non-profit journalism organization, New America Media, co-directing a project working with journalists around the country who were writing about women immigrants in the United States. I was at that job for almost three years and after leaving decided to devote my energies full-time to writing and community service. But I just couldn't wrap my head around that novel. I told a friend that my creativity had gone out the window and she encouraged me to join her for a 10-week Sunday class at The Marsh. The teacher, she said, has an incredible talent for helping people find and shape their stories. That teacher is David Ford, considered the Dean of Solo Performance. I'd often come to class ranting about some injustice or another and David (and classmate feedback) would help shape that rant into a scene that later became part of a larger story, and so my play was developed in bits and pieces and continues evolving to this day. A truly amazing teacher, David Ford helped me find the stories that became my solo show and he also directed my original play titled Tell Me Your Name. Diane Barnes is the friend who told me about David Ford's class so she was the gateway to my new career as a solo performer. Hopefully I can follow in her footsteps. Her show, My Stroke of Luck, opens for an extended run at the Marsh next month, tickets and more info at: https://themarsh.org/my_stroke_of_luck/diane-barnes/ I've seen the evolution of this play over the past three years and recently saw it performed at the United Solo Festival in NYC. It gets better and better and gets great reviews: " My Stroke of Luck is more than a story about a doctor who has a stroke and her path to recovery. It’s a story about identity, being a single mom of a special needs child, being a doctor who becomes a patient, having brilliance reduced to a handicap, courage, loss, pain, and ultimate triumph. It’s a masterful performance by a very talented woman who has truly found her voice.” Thanks to the storytelling classes at The Marsh, I found that I loved telling my stories out loud. First, of course they have to get on the page, but much of the energy from the stories comes from sharing them with you live, from the stage. Working with my new director, Rebecca Fisher, I've become more adventuresome in incorporating additional music and even some dance. Rebecca Fisher also directs Diane Barnes' show, My Stroke of Luck and David Ford continues to advise us all. So grateful for all the folks in the solo performers village of the Bay Area who give so generously of their time and feedback as we grow our show. Heartfelt thanks. One of the side benefits of my performances is hearing your stories afterwards. This had led me back to . . . a book project, a different book, not that novel I had started long ago. It’s a book of stories about names that folks share with me in person, via Facebook, my website, or by email. In addition to a wide range of name stories the book will include research on names that I’ve found most interesting in the fields of sociology, psychology, and law, not just here but in other countries. So stay tuned. If you haven’t seen the most recent version of my play, I'd love to see you at The SF Marsh on Wednesday, November 15th at 7:30 pm. It's my last show this year. And check what other folks have said after seeing my show.

So sad and angry this morning at the human suffering and destruction based on so many lies put forth by the administration justifying policies that are clear messages to people of color in this country that they don't want our kind here. Brown people were here long before Manifest Destiny and greed led the US to invade Mexico to take its land. This is not ancient history. The region comprising eight US States went from being Mejico to the United States overnight, within days of the discovery of gold in them thar hills of Alta California. Aqui estamos y no nos vamos! Ponder this. Who is safe in a country mobilizing for mass deportations? Who is safe when we strip gay and transgender folks of basic human rights? Who is safe in a country with Muslim Registries and White Supremacists and Neo-Nazi's marching in our streets? Turn to art to recharge. My one-woman show opens at the SF Fringe Festival this Saturday with a 4 pm show. It’s hard to focus on preparation for my show, with all this hate targeting so many groups: Muslim bans, The Wall, Charlottesville, Transgender Military Ban, DACA y mas y mas y mas. And then a destructive Hurricane with the same spelling as my name wreaking havoc on the heels of the last hurricane that caused so much damage in Texas, my home state. Aargh so much to say so little time. My play is very much about the destructive nature of prejudice, and the power of redemption. And it asks that each of us check ourselves, and explore the prejudices and attitudes we carry that are hurtful to other people . . . but wait up . . . it's also hella funny. As many laughs as there are serious topics. Each of us can and must do something to make this world a better place. Yes, we fight and demand justice, AND we must have EACH others' back, cannot allow them to divide and conquer us. The material in my show is always changing, how could I not address the pardon of Joe Arpaio, the blatant racism, homophobia, misogyny, that's coming to full bloom all around us even in great liberal bastions like Berkeley and San Francisco. I'm appalled at what people are saying and doing. I could turn the material I hear and read into a full-day play . . . but it's not, just one little hour. Come see Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? Tickets at http://www.sffringe.org/why/ Expecting the weekend shows to sell-out so get your tickets soon. Come see it at The Exit Theater 156 Eddy St. San Francisco, CA (Powell BART Station): Saturday 9/9 4 pm Tuesday 9/12 8:30 pm Thursday 9/14 7 pm Sunday 9/17 7 pm ps: most of this on a Facebook post, but since many friends aren't on Social Media (yes, it's true) decided to share also as a blog. Adelante. #SFFringe #NoRiskNoArt

Irma Grocery Store, located in Denmark, is the world's second-oldest grocery chain store, and it turns 131 this week. Marks & Spencer is the only retail chain that has been in continuous operation longer than Irma (at least in Europe). I know about Irma's b'day as friends visiting Copenhagen sent me an email yesterday with the news of Irma's 131st b'day celebration along with the photograph below. Sometimes I tell people I'm from Denmark when asked where I'm from after I give my name its correct pronunciation. The store's name is much like my own -- not UR-ma. My visit to Copenhagen and my adventures in my namesake grocery store are part of a scene in my one woman show, Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? which will be at the San Francisco Fringe Festival next month (details below). If you visit Copenhagen, do check out this local treasure, it's an environmentally conscious store with lots of organic products. Recently I met a medical doctor (originally from Romania) who upon hearing my name asked where I was from. I gave her song and verse, Mexican-American ancestry, family been here for generations. Her response with a smile: "Well I didn't think you were Romanian or Hungarian." Only images that came to my mind were of the Gabor sisters Zsa Zsa and Eva. She then added that Irma is pronounced the way I say my name in her country and that her best friend from Hungary is named Irma. Someone I met from Bosnia told me the same thing about my name, so it seems that URma stands pretty much alone in English. And I was told by a German that in their country there are two similar names Erma (pronounced URma) and Irma with the softer "e" beginning. All of us meet people with names that are unfamiliar. Happens to me on a regular basis and I'm hyper vigilant around issues of names. If you aren't sure how someone pronounces their name, ask and if you aren't getting it, ask again. I had that experience recently with a new neighbor. I asked her at least three times times to tell me her name, and to spell it for me (sometimes that's helpful, sometimes not). And then Eureka, I got it. Yes, at first it feels awkward to ask again to help you with their name but isn't that better than not knowing what to call someone. Our Use of Pronouns in lieu of Names and Gender Identity Awareness A friend recently mentioned that she's become aware that name tags at conference/meetings have a space where folks can indicate their gender pronoun, sometimes called Preferred Gender Pronoun (PGP). An important side note: some people find the very notion of "preferred gender" offensive, being of the view that you are whatever gender you are regardless of what others think or perceive your gender to be. It's not a preference, it's your identity. You don't prefer to be a lesbian, or African American, or Chicana . . . you just are. So point well taken, be mindful that some may be offended by the very use of the term PGP. For more info about pronoun use and how we are good allies to folks in the LGBTQ community it's important to educate ourselves about the obstacles and issues that challenge them each and every day. Here are a couple of articles on this subject: https://www.gsafewi.org/wp-content/uploads/What-the-heck-is-a-PGP1.pdfhttps://thebodyisnotanapology.com/magazine/pronoun-round-etiquette/ The LGBTQ community is targeted in many different ways beyond the bathroom bills in state legislatures. They are on the receiving end of many forms of discrimination and violence in many communities and the most vulnerable are Transgender Women of Color, see: http://www.hrc.org/resources/violence-against-the-transgender-community-in-2017. I challenge everyone (including myself) to fess up to our own biases and prejudices and our privileges because we all have some form of privilege -- US citizenship, well-educated, healthy, insured, straight/cisgender (the list goes on) that makes our lives easier. Even with these privileges, many of us are still subjected to many forms of hate and prejudice as we have seen so clearly in the unsettling and tragic events in the past two weeks. In this overwhelming times when it seems like we can't do enough to turn the tide of anger and hate, each of us as individuals can bring civility and kindness to the world. And it starts with respect for others. We show that respect by learning peoples' names and seeing them as individuals rather than stereotypes. Come reflect more on these topics, and enjoy some good laughs too, at my solo performance at The SF Fringe Festival. There are lots of other great performers with plays addressing issues of identity around race, LGBTQ, transracial adoption. More info about these and other shows at SF Fringe at: http://www.sffringe.org/ Tickets NOW on sale for four performances of Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? at The San Francisco Fringe Festival: http://www.sffringe.org/why/ Look forward to seeing you at The Exit Theater 156 Eddy St. San Francisco, CA (Powell BART Station): Saturday 9/9 4 pm Tuesday 9/12 8:30 pm Thursday 9/14 7 pm Sunday 9/17 7 pm #NoRiskNoArt #SFFringe

Touched By Your Generous Reception A belated shout-out to The Guadalupe Cultural Arts Center and its staff, and the 200 folks who attended Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? in San Antonio last month. I loved performing for a largely bilingual and bicultural audience, and this was the most enthusiastic audience I’ve ever had. And lucky me, I’ve only had wonderful audiences since I premiered my solo show 18-months ago. So touched that folks came from throughout South Texas, a large number people I grew up with in Alice, and also Corpus Christi, San Antonio, Austin, Yoakum, Houston. It was wonderful to reconnect with cousins, and hometown folks. I greatly appreciate the moving stories you shared after the show. Please continue to share your name stories with me. Send them to me at irmadherrera@gmail.com. I’m collecting them in a book with the working title, Tell Me Your Name. Heartfelt thanks to my niece Monique Herrera whose bakery, Cake Art, cakeartsa.com prepared a beautiful cake for the post-show reception. The morning after my show a dozen plus friends gathered for desayuno and cafecito at Pico de Gallo Restaurant. Wonderful to catch up with folks I’ve known since childhood, and to make new San Antonio friends. But the excitement didn’t end there as that evening I landed in the hospital and underwent an emergency appendectomy. Lucky me I was well-treated at a spanking new hospital and I have good health insurance (many folks in our country do not ). My surgery kept me in San Antonio a few days longer than planned. Unfortunately my spouse and I couldn’t travel to Maine for the wedding of a dear friends’ son. So that’s my excuse for the delay in thanking all y’all for the fine Tejano welcome. I can’t wait to go back to San Antonio and further south, where I hope to perform at several colleges next Spring on my Tour de Aztlán. Don’t hear the term much these days. If you don’t know what Aztlán means or need a refresher, click here: http://encyclopedia.jrank.org/articles/pages/5978/Aztl-n.html Check out this nice audience-member review of my San Antonio show. “Saw Irma’s one person performance in San Antonio on July 21. IT WAS AWESOME. She kept the audience engaged throughout the show with humor and wit. She covered points of social injustice from the past that are still with us today in a manner that was interesting and appealing. I recommend this show to everyone regardless of age, gender, background. Additionally, I must say Irma was very creative coming up with this manner to address the subject." --Jose A. Benavides Full disclosure, Jose A. was my senior year prom date, whom I had not seen in 40+ years. Wonderful to reconnect with him and meet his lovely wife the evening of the show. San Francisco Fringe Festival – Four Shows in September Super excited to be performing four shows at the San Francisco Fringe Festival which runs from September 8-23. If you've never been to a Fringe Festival you are in for a treat. Most show are an hour long and you can see several shows in one evening or afternoon. The 30+ shows at the SF Fringe are under the same roof at the three stages at the Exit Theatre 156 Eddy St. SF. An eclectic mix of performances, check them out at sffringe.org. If you were at my San Antonio, Fresno, or San Francisco performances and you are up to writing a mini-review, you can post it at the SF Fringe website. Folks read these and it helps them decide which of the 30+ shows to see. http://www.theexit.org/reviews/why-r/ If you saw the earlier version of my play, you’ll find that Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name has lots of new material. As my play tackles the subjects of prejudice and racism it is ever changing. Exit Theatre 156 Eddy St. San Francisco: Saturday 9/9 4 pm Tuesday 9/12 8:30 pm Thursday 9/14 7 pm Sunday 9/17 7 pm Tickets $10 at the door (25% of tickets are reserved for same day sale). To make sure you get a seat buy tickets online ($12.99 with service fees) at http://www.sffringe.org/why/ Look forward to seeing you there. #prejudice #racism #soloperformance #SFFingeFestival

Those were the words of an employee at the Alabama House of Representatives before she hung up the phone on me. I've had plenty of interesting interactions around my name and its correct Spanish pronunciation, but a phone slam for having a “foreign” name. That was, different. But first, the backstory. This was 2011 and Alabama had passed HB 56, a mean-spirited law intended to make the lives of undocumented immigrants so MISERABLE they would “self-deport.” That law, which targeted Latinos, prohibited undocumented immigrants from accessing any government services, and made it unlawful for anyone (businesses or individuals) to enter into contracts with undocumented persons. Count the Number of Contracts You Currently Have The right to enter into contracts is something we take for granted. As groups of people have gained equal rights, we have acquired the right to contract. For centuries, this right was denied to slaves and women. In Nazi Germany, all state contracts with Jewish-owned businesses were cancelled. We still deny minors the right to contract, and with good reason. Take a moment and make note of every contractual obligation you have. Renting an apartment to an undocumented person was now against the law in Alabama. Were landlords required to evict folks who had been their tenants for years? And how were they to determine who was undocumented and who was residing lawfully? It was now against the law for a car dealership to sell an undocumented person a truck or car. A Spanish language newspaper reported laying off several employees when advertising sales dropped. Car dealers stopped advertising for fear of prosecution for breaking the law. It became against the law to provide cell phone service to undocumented folks, since that requires a contract with any service provider, such as T-Mobile, Verizon, Sprint. Some utility companies left notices at the homes of customers with names like Garcia and Rodriguez, saying that their electricity or water would be shut off unless they could prove they were lawfully present. Never mind that millions of people with Spanish surnames have been citizens of the United States for decades and centuries. Government Services We receive all sorts of government services each and every day. In order to renew a car registration or driver’s license, DMV now had to determine that a person was lawfully present in the United States. Everyone had to go down to their local DMV with a birth certificate, passport, or green card before accessing any services from DMV. The lines around DMV offices went on for blocks. White and black folks (as well as US citizens of Latino, Asian and every other background) were greatly inconvenienced and angered at having to prove they were born here or had proper immigration status in order to renew their driver’s license, pay car registration fees, obtain a marriage or business license. Attorneys for counties and municipalities grappled with the notion that this law now required them to ask for proof of lawful residence before allowing the use of public swimming pools, as these are government services. Given Alabama's ugly segregationist history, it became a very uncomfortable reality that complying with the law would require this. Schools inquired about the immigration status of parents and children, and frightened parents kept their kids at home. Police parked themselves near Latino neighborhoods and pulled folks over demanding to see proof of lawful residence. Life did become miserable and there was an exodus of Latinos -- tens of thousands left Alabama, including many US citizens, resulting in millions of dollars in crop losses. Alabama’s agricultural industry was up in arms, because few other workers in that state were willing to do these jobs. Lawsuits challenging this law were filed as soon as HB 56 went into effect and within days the courts issued injunctions; finding that this overreaching law violated the United States Constitution. This is what was going on in Alabama back in 2011 when I called the office of a state legislator I wanted to interview. The Telephone Conversation Alabama Public Employee: Alabama House of Representatives, may I help you? Me: Hello, I thought I had dialed the number for Representative Merika Coleman. Alabama Public Employee: No one picked up at her office, so your call rolled over to the main number. May I take a message? Me: Yes, thank you. I'm an editor at New America Media in San Francisco; I’d like to leave my name and telephone number. My name is Irma Herrera (using the correct Spanish pronunciation), and I’ll spell it for you, Irma is I-R-M-A . . . Alabama Public Employee: That is a FOREIGN name and I am not talking to you. SLAM!! I must have sounded "illegal." Perhaps she thought that as a government employee any conversation with me would violate HB 56. I was in San Francisco, 2500 miles from Montgomery, Alabama, and the state's anti-immigrant sentiment was affecting me. This and other stories in my one-woman show, Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? Folks in South Texas can see my play on Friday, July 21 at 8 pm, at The Guadalupe Theatre in San Antonio. Tickets here: http://www.guadalupeculturalarts.org

Before WW II, discrimination against Mexican-Americans throughout the Southwest looked very much the same as it did for black folks in this country. In 1943 the Méndez family sought to enroll their children in the one of the schools in Westminster (CA). They were told their kids were too dark, had a Mexican last name, and would have to enroll in the “Mexican” school further from their home. This led to the little know lawsuit Méndez v. Westminister challenging the segregation of Mexican American children in the California schools. The Méndez’ won this lawsuit when the Court of Appeals held it violated the US Constitution. In fact, Méndez was cited as precedent in the United States Supreme Court in the landmark Brown v. Board of Education case. See https://blogs.loc.gov/law/2014/05/before-brown-v-board-of-education-there-was-mendez-v-westminster/ In preparing for the presentation of Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name?, my one-woman show in San Antonio on July 21, 2017, I reacquainted myself with the case of Felix Longoria and its role in the Mexican-American civil rights movement. Longoria was killed in the final days of World War II in the Philippines. Three years later, the US government was finally returning his remains to his family for a proper burial. The only funeral home in Three Rivers, the pueblito where the Longorias lived, would not let the family have the wake in the chapel because “the whites wouldn’t like it.” Dr. Hector P. Garcia and the American GI Forum brought the story to the public’s attention and Lyndon Baines Johnson, a US Senator from Texas, arranged a military burial for Felix Longoria with full honors at Arlington National Cemetery. http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/longoria.htm. Flimmaker John J. Valadez tells this painful and complicated story and the impact the incident still has on the community of Three Rivers (and for that matter throughout South Texas) in a PBS documentary, the Longoria Affair. More info at: http://www.pbs.org/independentlens/films/longoria-affair/ Fast forward . . . to 2016 (YES, that’s last year). The American GI Forum and the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund (MALDEF), sued the Normanna Cemetery Association, which oversees the San Domingo Cemetery in South Central Texas. The widow of Pedro Barrera was told he could not be buried there “because he’s a Mexican.” She was directed to “go up the road and bury him with the n----- and Mexicans.” https://www.texastribune.org/2016/05/05/texas-cemetery-sued-over-whites-only-policy/ Government-sanctioned segregation was the law of the land for centuries, and the impact of these laws is still very much with us. Civil rights laws that prohibit discrimination have been on the books for only decades, and today efforts are being made to weaken or eliminate these laws. I am grateful for all those organization and individuals who fight for fairness and equality. The Longoria Affair is featured in one of the scenes of my one woman show, Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name? at the Guadalupe Theatre in San Antonio, Friday, July 21, 2017. Tickets at: http://www.guadalupeculturalarts.org/why-would-i-mispronounce-my-own-name/

Can you say refrigerator? If so . . . you can learn anyone's name. In a recent blog I shared my conversation with a yoga instructor who told me she can only pronounce names that are in English. After a brief friendly exchange between us, she tried . . . and voila . . . learned quite quickly to say my first name correctly. ALL of us learn long and difficult words, many of them in our native languages, including English. The word refrigerator reminds me of a story shared by Minal Hajratwala in her lovely book, Leaving India: My Family’s Journey From Five Villages to Five Continents. In a job interview her father's prospective employer said: “Your name is very long, can we call you Bob?” "When I learned English - refrigerator - was a very hard word. You have only one word to learn, not a whole language. I think you can learn to say Bhupendra.” I love that story of Bhupendra’s courage and pride. He got the job. It’s always a risk to ask someone who has power over you to say your name correctly. A young lawyer friend told me that when she uses the correct pronunciation of her Spanish name in court, some judges' body language leaves her wondering: Is the judge annoyed with her? Will this have a negative impact on her client’s case? Should she Anglicize the pronunciation of her beautiful sounding name? All she's done is stated her appearance for the record by saying her name correctly, and spelling it for the court reporter. She isn’t correcting the judge or insisting on any particular pronunciation. Can we all agree that no one should be required to mispronounce their own name? All of us find it challenging to learn new names, and every time I see Dhaya Lakshminarayanan’s name, I imagine myself saying it in a free-flowing natural and beautiful way. But I'm not sure I do have it right. Yes, Lakshminarayanan has lots of syllables, but all of them are simple and familiar sounds. Rather than think, "I can't say that!" I wonder what might help me remember how to say it. I've never met Dhaya, but I am wanting to interview her some day and will ask her what tips she offers folks who want to say her name correctly. I'll be sure to share that story with you. Thanks to all who have already seen my show, I invite you to come see it again, as it has changed significantly from the earlier version called, Tell Me Your Name. If you enjoyed it tell your friends about it. Join us for an enjoyable evening (money back guarantee from me) of live theatre this Sunday evening with four women storytellers, short and sweet, you’ll be out before 9 pm. If you already have tickets or are planning to be there, send me a reply email so I can say hello and thank you after the show. Buy your tickets ahead of time, as the show sold out last time, and we’re hoping for a repeat. Tickets at: http://june25solos.brownpapertickets.com/ Share Via: Check out my website #TellMeYourName #Latinx

It’s a long read, and Sarah Menkedick's article, The Making of a Mexican-American Dream, published in Pacific Standard, is well worth the time and effort. It covers so much in its exploration/explanation of the long and complicated relationship we Mexican-Americans have with our country, the United States of America. The only place many of us have known as home for generations, and a place where we are all too often seen as not REAL Americans.* A place that asks us to change our names, our culture, and give up our native language, in order to fit it and be accepted. And even then for many the acceptance is tentative or never comes. We remain unwelcome. Foreigners. Aliens. With one exception: something we absolutely must NOT change -- the food . . . keep preparing those tacos, chiles rellenos, and burritos. This country's love affair with Mexican food knows few bounds. I'm hiking with a Berkeley friend (not Latina, Asian-American to be exact), ping on her phone, checks the message. Her 20-something daughter (in Asia for better part of a year) reporting via text that she's homesick, "I really want a carne asada burrito from Gordo's." We share a good laugh. American comfort food. Move over hamburgers, mac 'n cheese, and pizza, it's possible that burritors have overtaken you. As I often say, can't have Mexican food, without the Mexicans. But back to Menkedick's article. I greatly appreciate the review of assimilation theory and why the experience of Americanization is so different for Mexican-Americans than for the millions of Europeans who found their way to the United States. Like me, many Mexican-Americans are completely Americanized, "wow, your English is so good," and at the same time hold steadfastly to our culture and language, even when we haven't had close family living in Mexico for generations. Menkedick's article notes, that "[a]ny conversation about Mexican immigrants in the U.S. must acknowledge that it’s absurd to talk about many of them as immigrants at all. The first sizable population of Mexicans was here when the 1848 Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was signed, requiring Mexico to cede more than half of its territory to the U.S. At the time, Mexicans living in what is now Arizona, California, New Mexico, Texas, Colorado, Nevada, and Utah automatically became American citizens. The concept of an American culture defined by middle- and upper-class white people demands and perpetuates cultural amnesia." Friends, these are the same issues I explore in my one woman show, Tell Me Your Name, now playing at the Fresno Rogue Festival last two show this Friday, March 10 at 8 pm and Saturday at 3:30 pm. Tell your friends in the Central Valley/Fresno area. I highly recommend you make the time to read The Making of a Mexican-American Dream. Thanks for this very thoughtful piece, Sarah Menkedick. *America, a misnomer referring to the United States. America, is a land mass of the western hemisphere consisting of the continents of North and South America joined by the Isthmus of Panama. Still . . . America(n) is a shortcut we all use, even as some of us feel discomfort with it. I welcome your ideas for alternative descriptor of United States Citizen. USAian??? "Despite the rhetoric and hate crimes, Mexican immigrants are poised to reframe American culture, if white people would only let them." Sarah Menkedick #roguefestival #TellMeYourName #civilrights

Super excited to be participating in my first Fringe Festival in Freno, CA called the Rogue Festival. The Rogue is one ofthe largest arts events in California. Fringe Festivals are held all over the world and celebrate the independent artist rather than established arts institutiions. Performances are held in rapid rotation with no Fresno show longer than one hour. The half hour intermission allows folks to see several shows in the course of an evening or weekend at the festival. Fifty artists present their work over two weekends. My one-woman show is a mash up of stand-up comedy, part history geography lesson/ language lab, and food for thought about the assumptions we make about each other. Although the themes of my play are universal, they especially resonate with folks who work in or care deeply about social justice issues. Kings River Life, an on-line magazine asked performers to submit write-ups and mine was recently published. #tellmeyourname #fresno #roguefestival