A Mexican-American reality TV show for gringos

My show — and I hope you like it — will be different from other reality shows, because so far as I can tell, those shows are about rich spoiled whiny white people who bitch at each other and sneak around having sex on the sly and drink a lot of booze.

Correct me if I am wrong.

My reality show will be about real Mexican-Americans, with jobs in heavy labor: building houses, fixing roofs and walls and cars, sodding lawns, and building things in factories that other people need, but don’t want to work in a factory to make them, and all sorts of other labors that other people don’t want to do, or can’t.

The stars of my show will be Catholic or Protestant, and true to their wives and husbands, and the men will take a hands-on role raising the children, spelling out words with a kid on his lap, and telling the kids to clean up now because their mother is cooking.

The lead actors in my show will teach their children to speak both languages.

When their children come home from school, their Mom asks if they have homework, and the kids say no, and Mom hollers: “Mentirosos!” and there will be no video games or TV until the homework is done. And the big kids help the little kids, and y'all better finish that homework ‘fore your Daddy comes home.

And when Dad comes home, if the homework ain’t finished because no one knew the answer, and neither did Mom, then they can look it up on the internet.

But only do that on the internet.

If a child in my reality show ever disrespects Mom, Reality Dad will take that child’s elbow, O so gently, by thumb and forefinger, and lead the child into another room, where Dad will clarify the situation. And that child will think more than twice before disrespecting Mom again. If ever.

In my reality show, the young boys want to emulate their father, and get a job like his. But Dad says: “Sure. Summer jobs till you go off to college, then every one of you is going to get a better job than I’ve got now.”

And the children understand and accept that — whether they like it or not.

Then (assuming the reality show is renewed for another decade) the kids go off to college for two or four or six years, while Dad works construction, and Mom works in an office.

And you know what? Every one of those kids does get a better job, that pays more money, than Mom or Pop ever got. And all the brothers set aside money each week to help pay off the mortgage, and support Mom or Pop in their old age.

And the sisters do the same as their brothers, only more so: They become nurses and doctors and teachers and lawyers and scientists, and set aside money each week to support Mom and Dad in their old age.

Now, the Real People in my Mexican American Reality Show do this year after year, day after day, week after week, quietly, while powerful white politicians call them vermin, communists, rapists, drug dealers, and terrorists.

Parents on my reality show try to shield their children from such lying incitations to violence, but the children hear it anyway. And rise above it.

That’s my reality show. But it ain’t a show. It’s reality.

But it’s never been on reality TV.

Don’t hold your breath for it.

Categories / Op-Ed