This is a response to Henry Fowler’s (Nov. 28) letter:
Henry, I want to share a bit of my upbringing because I wish you knew my grandparents. As a child, I watched my grandmother work magic. With a few ingredients, she would make dozens of tortillas for our family. My grandfather would lay out strawberries for us, but never eat one. As a child, he picked strawberries until his back ached and his fingers were stained red.
My grandmother was one of the first women to work at her company. She invested in property, using keen business sense that was well ahead of her time. My grandfather served in the Army, was deployed to Korea, and was honorably discharged.
They wouldn’t tell you about the prejudice and racism they faced. As Mexican-Americans, they worked hard and didn’t complain. They would have welcomed you into their home for a meal of menudo, tortillas and whatever else they had to give. That was who they were.
When you speak of diversity, you are speaking of families that bring traditions, culture and upbringings that may be different from your own. Diversity is not the source of divisiveness; failing to find kinship in others is.