University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses

Immigration to California is vital to survival of indigenous Mexican artisans

(USC Thesis Other)

Immigration to California is vital to survival of indigenous Mexican artisans

PDF

Download a page range

Download transcript

Copy asset link

Request this asset

Transcript (if available)

Content IMMIGRATION TO CALIFORNIA IS VITAL TO SURVIVAL OF
INDIGENOUS MEXICAN ARTISANS
by
Carrie Jean Cunningham
A Professional Project Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
MASTER OF ARTS
PRINT JOURNALISM
August 2002
Copyright 2002 Carrie Jean Cunningham
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
UM I Number: 1414898
Copyright 2002 by
Cunningham, Carrie Jean
All rights reserved.
®
UMI
UMI Microform 1414898
Copyright 2003 by ProQuest Information and Learning Company.
All rights reserved. This microform edition is protected against
unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code.
ProQuest Information and Learning Company
300 North Zeeb Road
P.O. Box 1346
Ann Arbor, Ml 48106-1346
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
The Graduate School
University Park
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90089-1695
This thesis, w ritten b y
Carrie Jean Cunnin^lncunn_
U nder th e directio n o f h££.. Thesis
C om m ittee, an d ap p ro ved b y a ll its m em bers,
has been p resen ted to an d accepted b y The
G raduate School, in p a rtia l fu lfillm en t o f
requirem ents fo r th e degree o f
Master of Arte
'can o f Graduate Studies
" ■ L A
D ate
n -
THESIS COMMITTEE
f \ S~\
/ J , \
' - A " 1
.......
Chairperson
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Table o f Contents
Abstract iii
Immigration to California is Vital to Survival
of Indigenous Mexican Artisans 1
Bibliography 15
ii
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
ABSTRACT
Southern Californian connections help three men who live in communities
situated within an hour of the state capital of Oaxaca, Mexico, to financially support
their families.
Gustavo Ruiz Chavez is an indigenous, Zapotec Indian who risked his life to
leave Teotitlan del Valle to work illegally in a Ventura County cauliflower field for
six years. Another Zapotec immigrant, Antonio Mendoza, left the same town, but
legally, and received an education that continues to open opportunities for him in
Santa Ana, California, where he is able to support himself with traditional weaving
techniques. A third Zapotec Indian, Alfredo Fuentes Melchor, remains in Mexico to
support his family with a tenuous network of wholesalers who market his wood
carvings throughout Mexico and the United States.
These men represent stories typical of Mexico’s indigenous people, who have
been marginalized in the past, but are increasingly getting center stage in
international politics.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Dusty cobblestone streets, traversed more often by mangy stray dogs than
cars, roll through the rural cities of Mexico in stark contrast with the gridlocked,
interstate highways of California.
For many Mexicans, these streets represent the beginning of the journey north,
where they will make money providing illegal labor working as farmhands in more
urban areas. But for others, they represent a way in which the rest of the world will
come to them, and be charmed by the indigenous artisan communities they “find” at
the road’s end.
Regardless of whether the tourists are coming or the natives are going, these
roads symbolize the connections with Southern California that are of vital importance
to the economic survival of many indigenous artisans in rural Mexican villages.
Such connections have helped three men who live in communities situated
within an hour of the state capital of Oaxaca. Although the region is known globally
for its rich cultural traditions, these men represent stories typical of its indigenous
people, who struggle to survive despite the weak economies of Mexico’s southern
states.
One is Gustavo Ruiz Chavez, who sacrificed his craft of rug weaving to work
illegally, below the United States’ legal minimum wage, as a field hand in Oxnard. At
just over five feet tall — the average height among indigenous Indians in Oaxaca — he
seems even slighter because of his timid speech. Thoughtful and halting even in his
native Zapotec language, his words would easily be drowned out in any American
l
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
setting, which is what often happened in the six years that Ruiz lived as a California
farm hand.
In contrast with Ruiz is a man who refuses to be drowned out in America;
Antonio Mendoza is also a rug weaver from the same town. Although Ruiz and
Mendoza both grew up weaving and make it an integral part of their lives today, they
are divided by their experiences: Mendoza crossed into California legally, with
comforts and courtesies that keep him here. Even so, he remains divided, with a heart
and spirit committed to helping those he left behind in Mexico, and a mind and drive
developed by being fully-immersed in California schools and culture.
The third indigenous artisan is fully-immersed in life with his family in Mexico.
Alfredo Fuentes Melchor, practices his native Zapotec craft of woodcarving which
has, so far, allowed him to avoid emigrating to the U.S.. Fluent in Spanish and with
smiles, Fuentes has established a tenuous network of contacts who sell his artwork for
him, and allow him to remain in Mexico. But because his sales are based entirely on
pop-culture demands coming from craft stores in the U.S., Fuentes, too, may
eventually be forced to head north for work.
The fact that these men are able to make that trip north, and that it is quite
often a matter of course in their communities, has more recently become a topic of
much discussion in the United States. Before Sept. 11, one of the main international
stories involved the discussions between Mexican President Vicente Fox and
President George W. Bush regarding a migration agreement that legalizes the
estimated 3 to 4 million undocumented Mexicans living in the U.S.
2
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Although immigration has taken a back seat to the war on terrorism, Fox still
believes there must be an agreement soon. A report released by the National
Population Council of Mexico (CONAPO) in December 2001 concluded that
“Migration between Mexico and the United States is a permanent, structural
phenomenon. It is built on real factors, ranging from geography, economic inequality
and integration, and the intense relationship between the two countries, that make it
inevitable.”
“TO EMIGRATE?” NOT REALLY A QUESTION FOR MOST
In the center of the U.S.-Mexico immigration debate are people who do not fit
into the accepted cultures of either country, like Gustavo Ruiz Chavez. He returned
to his native town of Teotitlan del Valle four years ago after working in Oxnard. His
is a rural town, located about 40 minutes outside the state capital of Oaxaca City. It
consists of indigenous Zapotec people who have historically been marginalized in
their own country. As much as 80 percent of rural, Mexican youth migrate to major
cities and the U.S. for employment, according to the International Youth Foundation.
Their marginalization is further perpetuated when they are given the label of “illegal
immigrant” in the U.S.
That was the identifier given to Ruiz when he left his Oaxacan home town in
1992 at the age of 16. He traveled north through Mexico to the border in Tijuana,
where he paid a coyote about $200 to help him cross illegally into San Diego. He
then made his way to Oxnard, where he had a job waiting for him. He was hired to
farm cauliflower near other Southern California agribusinesses where his five brothers
3
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
were already working. Ruiz worked at the farm and lived with his brothers in a small
trailer for six years, sending most of his income home to his parents.
When he returned home in 1998, Ruiz joined his parents in a larger, two-story
home with a large workshop, part of what his Southern California income helped buy.
“We have 12 looms now,” Ruiz said. “We only had two before.”
Signs of Ruiz’s time in the U.S. are evident in many ways. Conspicuously
sitting beside the large, old-fashioned looms in their second-floor workshop is a
modem compact disc player that booms traditional Mexican folk music. Downstairs
in the family’s showroom, a poster of a shiny, red Ferrari is displayed among the rugs
on the walls.
In addition, Ruiz often sports a favorite polo shirt, crested with the initials cK;
Calvin Klein products are not sold in Oaxaca. His thick brown hair is cropped close
and spiked up a bit in places, which is hardly a traditional Mexican style.
The new looms have maximized production and Ruiz sells the mgs,
bedspreads, tablecloths and clothes that his family weaves at weekly markets
throughout the region, hauling samples with him on public buses that shuttle him up
and down a main highway that passes within a couple miles of the town. He also
frequently invites tourists into his home, which features a large showroom where he
can unroll stacks of carpets and rattle off prices until he catches their interest.
To create the supply of mgs for tourists, Ruiz’s family works six, labor-
intensive days a week to tend a flock of 80 sheep, shave the wool, spin it by hand, dye
4
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
it with natural dyes they make from plants and insects and finally, weave it into
dozens of personal designs to create various sizes of rugs.
But the rug sales alone are still not enough to support Ruiz’s family, or many
others in the village of roughly 2,700 people, he said.
Thus, despite their labors and specialized skills, the men and women who have
built lives around the art of rug weaving continue to leave Teotitlan del Valle to work
elsewhere. At least one in 10 residents leave the town and head to the United States,
Ruiz said, where they immigrate and work illegally, sending most of their income
home.
And despite the fact that Ruiz admits to being unhappy in Southern California
and not wanting to ever go back because of the lonely, hard existence it offers, he
often talks himself into revisiting that life. Still single, without the responsibilities of
his own family, he said that sales are now again slow enough that he often considers
returning to work in the United States.
“I have my papers now, so it will be easier,” he said. “If I go just one more
time, just for a year or so, we would have enough money so that I wouldn’t have to
go back ever again.”
BUT WHY WILL THEY KEEP COMING BACK?
The question of why people with skills they can market at home in Mexico
keep returning to a place like Southern California, where they are often exploited for
their inexpensive labor, is something that frustrates experts.
5
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
“It would seem that those sorts of people would be better off in Mexico,” said
Gaspar Rivera-Salgado, a native Oaxacan professor of sociology at the University of
Southern California in Los Angeles. But rug weaving, as an example, “is very labor
intensive ... if you start calculating the payment per hour, it’s not a good business at
all... so it is very limiting.”
In fact, Rivera-Salgado says that Ruiz’s desire to return to the more lucrative
job in Oxnard “is not unusual.” Even if Ruiz makes below minimum wage in the
U.S., it is still far more money than he will make selling rugs in Teotitlan, where they
average about $150 each. Crossing legally, with established contacts, skills and job
prospects in the farming industry, Ruiz actually has much better prospects for making
a more substantial income, much more rapidly.
Not only will he make a more substantial income, but it is likely that if he
returns, Ruiz will again become an integral part of one of Mexico’s major sources of
income: the money that migrants send home, called remittances.
SENDING MONEY HOME AND CREATING A U.S.-DEPENDENT ECONOMY
An estimated one in 10 Mexican families depends on relatives in the U.S.
sending money as their main income, according to the National Population Council of
Mexico. The Multilateral Investment Fund (MIF), which was established in 1993 as
part of the Inter-American Development Bank and endorsed by the U.S. government
to provide support to private sector development in Latin America and the Caribbean,
estimates that remittances in 2002 will surpass the more than $9 billion that Mexicans
sent home last year, even when tempered by the aftermath of Sept. 11 and a U.S.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
recession. Those figures are more than twice the value of Mexican agricultural
exports, exceed the revenue generated by tourism in Mexico, and are two-thirds the
value of Mexican oil exports, according to the MIF.
In addition, recent banking changes in the U.S. allow for immigrants, who
have historically lived cash existences, to open accounts at banks using only a
Mexican identification card issued by the Mexican consulate. The banks now allow
for direct transfers to Mexico with minimal charges, where money transfers from
check cashing businesses in local U.S. barrios used to cost immigrants as much as 30
percent of the amount transferred. Nearly $35 million has been deposited into
accounts opened with Mexican I.D. cards in the last six months, said Rivera-Salgado,
and a significant proportion of that amount will head directly to Mexico.
Traditions in the Mexican indigenous communities will dictate that a
considerable amount of the money that families back home see goes to supporting the
socialist structure of the community. Rivera-Salgado works with thousands of
immigrants who have not only established a better income for themselves and their
immediate families by working in the United States, but who have organized
associations that funnel remittances from Southern California to their villages in
Mexico to help provide things like improved utility services, roadways and sanitation.
THERE IS MORE THAN MONEY TO SEND HOME
But there is more than just money to send home, according to other
immigrants like Antonio Mendoza. In 1987, Mendoza came to the U.S. legally with
his family when his father was hired to work as a musician with the Bamum and
7
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Bailey Circus. Mendoza was 14 years old and enrolled in school, where he worked
hard to learn to speak the English language of the tourists who had visited his family
in Teotitlan del Valle. He became fascinated with their culture and language, but says
that the more he learned, the more he missed weaving with his grandparents and
extended family in Mexico and appreciated the foundation that it had given him.
“The feet that I have left and seen other things in other places of the world — ”
Mendoza said, “that’s how you start to value what your ancestors did.”
When Mendoza graduated from high school, he was admitted to study at the
University of California Irvine, where he studied music, played the clarinet in the
orchestra and spent hours in the library where he read every book he could find on
weaving.
Exposed to writings about weaving traditions in a variety of different cultures,
Mendoza saw the significance of his own culture’s weaving methods. But visits home
showed him how tourists were warping the native Zapotec traditions by seeking
copies of American, Navajo Indian designs, and custom, pop-culture designs. He
began researching his native Zapotec history and incorporating it into his own
weaving designs and methods.
“Now, I’m trying to send a message [home] that we should focus on the art,”
Mendoza said. “I’m trying to revive the old traditions. A lot of the original designs
have been lost.”
Mendoza, at 29, now travels a circuit of markets and fairs around the U.S.,
demonstrating Zapotec weaving techniques and selling samples of his work, which
8
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
average about $500 each. He serves as a sort of self-appointed public relations
representative for indigenous Oaxacan artists, emphasizing natural dye colors and
hand-weaving techniques over chemical dyes and machine-woven yam. He has been
featured in stories in the Orange County Register and the Los Angeles Times and is
also working with curators from the Los Angeles County Natural History Museum
who are developing an exhibit about Zapotec weavers from Teotitlan del Valle.
“He’s an artist,” said Rivera-Salgado, who knows Mendoza as a leader in
Southern California’s tight-knit Oaxacan community. “Antonio has been very
successful at adapting his skills to market himself in a very interesting way. He has
tried to go back to Teotitlan del Valle and talk about these issues...”
And Mendoza admits to having some success in influencing the market, both
by educating people in the United States to the value of authentic methods, and by
showing the people in Mexico that traditional products will sell. But back home,
most weavers have not been afforded the luxury of legally passing back and forth
across the U.S. border to find an attentive audience at a craft fair. They instead opt
to sell their wares to wholesalers, who refuse to pay any extra for the labor-intensive
process of creating dyes, yams and mgs all by hand. Thus, strong pop-culture
demands that keep wholesalers coming back also compromise the integrity of the art
form, Mendoza said.
POP CULTURE STILL DRIVES THE MARKET FOR OAXACAN ART
Similarly, there are dozens of other communities in Oaxaca that depend on
filling pop culture demands, in many different art forms, from pottery to wood
9
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
carving. One community that is especially defined by such demands is San Martin
Tilcajete, another rural Oaxacan community about an hour south of Oaxaca City.
There, Alfredo Fuentes Melchor practices the art of carving wooden figures, known
as alebrijes, and sells his work to six retailers across the United States and three in
Mexico.
Fuentes, at 25 years old, has been carving wooden figures for 17 years. His
hands are scarred with long red lines that evidence the often-precarious nature of
whittling, which Fuentes said might not always be frilly appreciated. Relatively
young, Fuentes still perches on the edge of a white, plastic chair while he bends over
his workspace, which is arranged across the flat section of a tree stump.
Carving alebrijes has been passed on through recent generations in San Martin
Tilcajete, and the art form is more market driven than cultural, according to Michael
Chibnik, an anthropology professor at the University of Iowa who is working on a
book about the Oaxacan woodcarvings. “These brightly-painted, whimsical pieces
are novel creations without longstanding cultural significance,” Chibnik said. But
they have caught the attention of international folk art enthusiasts who have scooped
them up by the dozens, especially in the last 10 years.
Children race to greet tourists and scamper alongside their cars, which are
forced to proceed at no more than five miles an hour over narrow, potholed dirt
streets in a town not designed for automobile traffic. They suggest their own
residences for alebrije shopping, and escort visitors into their courtyards, where they
can observe their parents at work carving and peruse the family’s inventory.
10
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
To create their inventories, men in carving families use eight different kinds of
knives to work on the soft, fresh-cut wood from the Mexican Copal tree, which
hardens as it dries. They typically shape animal figures, such as rabbits, lizards,
armadillos and insects, as well as religious figures like angels and nativity scenes.
Then their wives paint bright, intricate designs on the figures, which usually sell
between $10-20 in Mexico, depending on size and design.
Following that tradition, Fuentes carves figures and then passes them off to his
wife, who completes the painting and often uses a medical syringe to do the more
detailed work. When the figure is complete, Fuentes’ wife adds his moniker, “Freddy
Fuentes,” to the bottom of the piece to spread his name wherever it may eventually be
sold, which may actually be a very far-off place.
“Many rural households have prospered by selling carvings to wholesalers and
storeowners from the United States,” said Chibnik. “Men and women who once eked
out a living through farming and wage labor are now able to build concrete houses
and purchase automobiles, satellite dishes, and CD players.”
Although he does not own a car or sport a satellite dish on his roof, Fuentes is
able to support his family in San Martin Tilcajete by selling his creations to the
international retailers. Just as Fuentes tirelessly bends over his workspace, he is
equally inclined to dust the wood shavings aside and pour through detailed ledgers of
his business finances. He gives each of his retailers a page on which shipments are
listed and orders are logged. Fuentes admits to tracking and adapting to market
demands, and generally supplies retailers with those carvings that sell well.
11
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
“Insects are their favorites,” said Fuentes, who usually has tables filled with
ladybugs and butterflies. “They are small and inexpensive, so they are popular and we
make a lot of them.”
But more than just Fuentes’s artistic creativity has been affected by the global
market he serves. The entire town has been changed by the alebrijes.
“The whole puebla makes them,” Fuentes said.
This has not, however, quite saved the town. Within a couple of generations,
the community has assimilated to sudden market demands, and most families have lost
their indigenous Zapotec language because their interactions with other communities
required that they speak Spanish. And although Fuentes has been able to stay in
Mexico, many in San Martin Tilcajete have not.
“A lot of people from that town go to Santa Cruz, California,” said Rivera-
Salgado. “A lot of them end up working as gardeners, dishwashers But they hold
on to their traditions and connections, working to send money home like Ruiz did for
Teotitlan del Valle, “and in the afternoons,” Rivera-Salgado added, “after work, they
carve in their garages and the places where they live.”
Their skills as carvers are used only for their own amusement, a fate feared by
many in San Martin Tilcajete, should the current market suddenly favor something
different. “The nature of the market is very different,” Rivera-Salgado said. “There is
a very limited market for alebrijes. I mean, they are very nice, but the size of the
market is much, much smaller than the rug market.”
12
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
That does not bode particularly well for Fuentes, who hopes to eventually
pass his carving skills on to his two-year-old son, who he says is still far too young to
risks cuts and scars associated with the carving trade. But since alebrijes are
novelties, and not true cultural artifacts, their ability to sustain an entire city for an
extended period of time is not yet confirmed.
That may leave Fuentes eventually in the same situation as Ruiz, and he may
be forced to leave Oaxaca to support his family and help sustain the community.
Relative comforts have developed for Fuentes, such as swinging in a hammock near
his workspace for creative inspiration, or owning his own chickens and goats, which
he can watch his son play with while he works. His admittedly modest livestock
collection keeps him self-sufficient, and may encourage him to someday make the trip
north to work in the U.S. so that he can preserve his family’s way of life.
BUT WHAT WILL THE FUTURE BE FOR IMMIGRANTS IN THE U.S.?
Although the climate for immigration discussion in the United States is far less
receptive after the events of Sept. 11, Mexican President Vicente Fox is working to
keep it going. Wary of the financial influence that undocumented Mexican workers
wield on his economy, Fox called them heroes and promised not to forget them when
he ran for president two years ago. That is the impetus behind heavy lobbying that
Fox continues to do to get them amnesty, and his begrudging admission at a Tijuana
meeting of the U.S. National Association of Hispanic Journalists in June that Bush’s
acceptance of his immigration proposals will likely be delayed until next year.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Those Fox proposals include the expansion of a guest-worker program, which
would appeal to a majority of immigrants, like Ruiz and potentially Fuentes, who only
intend to stay in the U.S. temporarily, as well as an increase in the number of visas for
entry to the U.S., improved safety at the border to prevent immigrant deaths and
injuries and economic development in the poorest areas of Mexico, in places like
those from which indigenous people like Ruiz and Fuentes originate.
On the Mexico-side of the border, Fox’s government is campaigning to keep
citizens home. The government has sponsored ads that run on Mexican television and
feature people telling their horror stories about living in the U.S. In addition, much is
made of illegal immigrant deaths in the scorching deserts of California and Arizona to
encourage citizens to stay home, and invest in Mexico.
In the meantime, many Mexicans are still able and willing to make the journey
across the border, and more than willing to work in poor conditions for less than
minimum wage.
Where previous trips endangered his life and were spent in constant fear of
being arrested by immigration officials, Ruiz is prepared to make the trip legally and
believes that the, political climate will help him.
“I only want to go for six months,” Ruiz said. “I just want to get some
money. And it will be easier this time. I’ve got my papers.”
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
Bibliography
Cabrera, Yvette. “True life: He weaves to keep art form from unraveling,” The
Orange County Register, 16 June 2000.
Chibnik, Michael. “Research Interests,” [article online] (Anthropology @ The
University of Iowa, accessed 2 March 2002) available from
http://www.uiowa.edu/~anthro/facpages/chibnik.htm; Internet.
Cholo, Ana Beatriz. “Picking up Threads of Ancient Tradition; Antonio Mendoza
G.’s Family has Made Zapotec Indian Tapestries for Generations,” The Los
Angeles Times, 10 June 2000.
Dibble, Sandra and Leonel Sanchez. “Immigration agenda still alive, Fox says in
Baja,” The San Diego Union-Tribune, 13 June 2002.
Edouard, Fabrice, Alejandra Safa, Anne Marie Le Moing,and Herman Sosa. “The
Situation of Children and Youth in Oaxaca, Mexico,” [article online]
(International Youth Foundation, accessed 3 March 2002) available from
http://www.iyfiiet.org/document.cfin/41/alliances; Internet.
Fuentes, Alfredo. Personal Interview. 19 June 2001.
Mendoza, Antonio. Personal Interview. 7 March 2002.
“Mexico: More Migration, Remittances,” [article online] (MigrationNews, Volume
9, Number 1, January 2002, accessed 6 March 2002) available from
http://migration.ucdavis.edu/mn/archive_mn/jan_2002-05mn.html; Internet.
Multilateral Investment Fund. “Remittances to Latin American and the Caribbean,”
[article online] (Multilateral Investment Fund, February 2002, accessed 7
April 2002) available from
http://www.iadb.org/mifrwebsite/static/en/study3 .doc; Internet.
Rivera-Salgado, Gaspar. Personal Interview. 5 March 2002.
Ruiz, Gustavo. Personal Interview. 23 May 2001.
Whipperman, Bruce. Oaxaca Handbook: Mountain Craft Regions, Archaeological
Sites, and Coastal Resorts, First Edition. Emeryville, California: Avalon
Travel Publishing, January 2000.
15
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.

Linked assets

University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses

Conceptually similar

PDF

Black and gay in America

PDF

Domestic violence in the South Asian immigrant community

PDF

Bartered Lives: Book proposal

PDF

Adopting the China route

PDF

Interrupted passage: A documentary script

PDF

Baby citizens (radio report)

PDF

Innovative incorporation of cultural arts in Jewish education: How to enlighten the Jewish community with quality cultural arts programming

PDF

Cognitive dysfunction and occupations with likely significant magnetic field exposure: A cross-sectional study of elderly Mexican Americans

PDF

China's Korean minority: A study in the dissolution of ethnic identity

PDF

Depression and suicidality in Latino adolescents: A study of acculturation and gender role beliefs

PDF

Ethnic identity and nationalism in Taiwan

PDF

Conversion to Judaism

PDF

Ethnic identity, acculturation, self-esteem and perceived discrimination: A comparison study of Asian American adolescents

PDF

A prospectus for a Los Angeles arts and culture magazine from the graduate school

PDF

Homemaking from the heart

PDF

"People of the (cook)book": The enculturation of American Jewish women

PDF

Domestic violence in Korean immigrant families

PDF

Identity re-constructed

PDF

Education in Athens Co., Ohio: A clash of cultures

PDF

Articulated thoughts about intentions to commit anti-gay hate crimes

Asset Metadata

Creator Cunningham, Carrie Jean (author)

Core Title Immigration to California is vital to survival of indigenous Mexican artisans

School Graduate School

Degree Master of Arts

Degree Program Print Journalism

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag journalism,OAI-PMH Harvest,sociology, ethnic and racial studies

Language English

Contributor Digitized by ProQuest (provenance)

Advisor Castaneda, Laura (committee chair), [illegible] (committee member)

Permanent Link (DOI) https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-c16-302621

Unique identifier UC11342124

Identifier 1414898.pdf (filename),usctheses-c16-302621 (legacy record id)

Legacy Identifier 1414898.pdf

Dmrecord 302621

Document Type Thesis

Rights Cunningham, Carrie Jean

Type texts

Source University of Southern California (contributing entity), University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses (collection)

Access Conditions The author retains rights to his/her dissertation, thesis or other graduate work according to U.S. copyright law. Electronic access is being provided by the USC Libraries in agreement with the au...

Repository Name University of Southern California Digital Library

Repository Location USC Digital Library, University of Southern California, University Park Campus, Los Angeles, California 90089, USA