It was the spring of 1985, and Californians were in civil war on behalf of English.
Some Monterey Park residents were pushing city councils to ban Chinese business signs. Voters who passed Proposition 38 a year ago were waiting for Gov. George Dukmezian to implement the initiative.
A former US Senator, one of the co-authors of Proposition 38, was preparing proposal 63 to enshring English as the state’s official language after Whittier area Congress member Frank Hill introduced the bill that proposed it. Small Fillmore in Ventura County has already become one of the nation’s first cities to go to English and work.
These Shepherds of Shakespeare argued that their efforts were necessary to save the American way from ignorant immigrants who never let go of the American tongue. The official discussion of Proposition 63, co-signed by Hain Cheon, declared that the state was heading towards “language competition and ethnic distrust” and that declaring English as an official language would help residents “understand and respect other people, other cultures as sympathy.”
This was all going on, but I was trying to learn English in kindergarten.
I was only familiar with Spanish, the tongue of Mexican immigrant parents at Thomas Jefferson Elementary School in Anaheim. We lived in a neighborhood where only white people lived in front of our grandma’s flat. Our social life was focused on my parents’ native lanchos. Its residents transplanted from music, culture and Zacatecas to Southern California. español.
We personified Hayashi River’s Babellish prediction. However, by the time the proportion 63 was passed in 73% of the vote in the fall of 1986, I was speaking fluent English in my second year. So did my friends and cousins. Our parents were also beginning to learn English.
Our English embrace – one of the lessons in one classroom, but mostly marathon Saturday morning cartoon sessions for kids and Charles Bronson film sessions for parents – was not the only thing that Hayashi Cheong and his crew were wrong. If English is promoted in California, all the social kunbayas they claimed, surprisingly, have forgiven Spanish – if it turns out to be a bundle of kaka, it sprouts.
The imitation method will quickly spread throughout the country. Since then, 32 states have declared English as their official language. Californians passed the proposition in the 1990s, when they tried to make life miserable for undocumented immigrants, ending government-sponsored affirmative actions and banning bilingual education. The embers of these political wildfires have spread throughout the United States and helped Donald Trump burn the path to victory in 2016 and last year.
On Saturday, President Trump returned our country to my youth’s ugly days, signed an executive order declaring English, declared official languages, and promised that the move would “strengthen shared national values and create a more cohesive and efficient society.”
But, like we did in California, there is a high chance that the opposition will occur.
Coming in the wake of an executive order to end diversity, equity and inclusive initiatives across the federal government, end birthright citizenship and rename the “American Gulf” in the Gulf of Mexico, this is Trump’s latest gift for those who are sloppying a multicultural society. These are all the worst Americans, motivated by fear of newcomers rather than love for the country. The fear of newcomers is about to disappear under the cudgel cloak of patriotism and law.
The anxiety about immigrant mothers’ attachment to the tongue dates back to colonial times. In the 1750s, Benjamin Franklin complained to his friends that all the benefits we have could not maintain our language, as Germans “count us right away. This type of skepticism continued even after a wave of immigration, where Irish, Italians, Jews, Chinese, Mexicans – assimilated.
However, xenophobia continued to use the ghosts of other languages that were congesting English to encourage austerity for immigrants. I knew this much less than John Tanton, the intellectual architect of today’s “America First” movement.
A trade ophthalmologist, Tanton fought immigration and birthright citizenship and funded organizations that published white nationalist regions. The son of a Canadian immigrant reserves the special hostility of Latinos and warns confidants of the “Latin onslaught” and says, “White people see their power and control diminish, do they just go quietly at night? Or will there be an explosion?”
Born in Canada in 1983 to Japanese immigrants, Tanton and Hayashikawa formed English. This is a nonprofit organization promoting constitutional reforms to make English a bilingualism that is opposed to the national official language.
American English funded all the great English propositions of my childhood to induce the xenophobic appetites of some Americans. It even asked members to write an angry letter to Pacific Bell about their decision to publish a yellow page in Spanish.
“California,” Tanton told The Times in 1986. “We can become a national research institute,” he said.
Four decades later, all of his racist dreams seem to be coming true through Trump. And the California Constitution still declares that English is our official language, and orders Congress to “ensure that the role of English as a common language in California is preserved and strengthened.”
Daniel Hosan is a professor of American studies at Yale University and author of the 2010 book, Racial Propositions: Voting Initiatives and Creating Postwar California, tracking the English-only battle of the 1980s in Golden State. Tanton and Hayakawa consultants told them that their campaign had a “naughty stink of ranked nativeism,” Hosan said, but “If you could come to California and understand how to hide it, they could ultimately go nationwide that they did.
The professor described Trump’s executive order as “a deep reminder that language is a place of naturalism,” but dismissed it as a “desperate act of political symbolism” that is ignored like California.
“The lessons are important because they failed,” Hosan said. “Most Californians don’t know or care that English is the official language of the state.”
He pointed out that even Republicans use Spanish to reach out to Latino voters across the country.
“That’s why it’s difficult to get [Trump’s English-language executive order] They aren’t, so seriously as a policy,” Hosan said.
His book shows that all “official English” measures of the 1980s were essentially test balloons for the troubling law that followed, I pointed out.
He acknowledged this point and speculated that local governments could use Trump’s executive order as an excuse to end multilingual forms of communication that harms immigrant communities.
“Because we are the moment when they are all innovative. Those who speak only English can think of “multilinguistic access as a luxury responsible for reducing the profits of others.”
Hosan paused. “I could see that logic become insidious.”