(image via Flickr by jslander)

Saturday, May 4, 1968. Fresno, California. Sandra Castellanos had just turned five when her family drove her and her three brothers, Simon, Saul and Sergio Jr., to Clovis, for a special birthday dinner at Franco's Restaurant, a mexican eatery. Sandra's parents, Sergio and Patricia, seldom went out for dinner. In fact, this was the first time Sandra had ever eaten at a restaurant. So when it came time to order, she asked for a cheeseburger.

"Mija, estamos en un restaurante mexicano," warned her mother, her eyes opening wide. "¡Yo quiero un chisburgar!" responded Sandra, increasingly petulant. Minutes later, Alejandro Perez, the cook at Franco's, created the first Mexican restaurant cheeseburger using a loaf of telera bread cut into a circle. Today, tens of thousands of Mexican restaurants serve cheeseburgers, chicken fingers and french fries.

(image by foundphotoslj via flickr)

Saturday, July 15, 1989. Gaby Martinez walks her twin eight year-old girls across the cul de sac at the end of Liberty Ave to visit their neighbor's house for a birthday party. Today, Irina Paczkowski turns nine and her mother, Dorota, has invited the entire neighborhood to celebrate.

The Paczkowski's, recently arrived to Scottsdale, are the only non-Mexican families on Liberty Ave so when Gaby and her girls enter their back yard, all three smile at the sight of a giant white piñata. Games are played, hot dogs are boiled and a cake is served. Finally, Dorota guides Irina under the piñata and hands her a broomstick. But when the swatting begins Gaby's jaw drops: the piñata is empty.

Bolting through the gate, Gaby manages to run home and back – in pumps – before Irina lands a direct hit. As the neighborhood kids close in, Gaby empties a plastic bag over their heads, showering them with chocolate breath mints and a dozen snack-sized bags of M&M's.

(image by ccarlstead via flickr)
Wednesday, September 15, 1999.

Six-year-old Alicia Sosa is staring intently at her mother, Lucrecia. For the last week, Alicia's mom has been the volunteer parent in Ms. Choi's first grade clasroom. Today her mom and Ms. Choi are talking seriously about something that Alicia can't quite understand, though she does make out the word "fantastic" which is one of her favorites.

During the drive home, Alicia asks her mom, "Mami, how come you sound different than the other moms when you talk?" Looking back at Alicia through the rearview mirror, Lucrecia smiles and explains: "Because your father and I are from Colombia and we jus' learn to speak English now." Sensing Alicia doesn't quite understand, her mom expands: "Is because I have an accent." Alicia eyes widen and she softly answers "OK."

Months pass and Alicia's mom returns to Shaw Elementary for a parent-teacher conference. After praising Alicia for being polite and inquisitive, Ms. Choi pauses for a moment, looks gently at Lucrecia and says: "You know, I think you're a real inspiration to all the other moms."

Lucrecia looks confused, prompting Ms. Choi to explain: "You know... because of your accident."

(image by Takuya Oikawa via Flickr)

Friday, December 31, 1993. Juan "One Oh One" Barrios, a junior and computer science major at Stanford University, abruptly stands up from his chair and screams. Because the dorm is empty, no one hears his screaming or the minute of pounding on the computer monitor that follows.

For months, Barrios has struggled to score Brownie points with his Spanish language professor Barry Mathers. Though painfully shy, Barrios went so far as to write a public letter to the school newspaper in support of Prof. Mathers after the young teacher was criticized by campus conservatives for discussing his own homosexuality, explicitly according to some present, in a lecture on Cuban writer Reinaldo Arenas.

On this quiet New Year's Eve, Barrios, who desperately needs a passing grade in Spanish to stay on the Dean's List, had hoped to tip the scales permanently in his favor by sending Prof. Mathers a friendly holiday note via electronic mail. But only seconds after typing "send," Barrios realizes his e-mail has been delivered to the entire class. Subject line: Feliz Ano Nuevo.

In 1992, the Internet Assigned Numbers Authority registered the character map ISO-8859-1 for use on the Internet. ISO-8859-1 contains such important Spanish language characters as á, é, í, ó, ú and ñ.

Wednesday, February 21, 2005. Jorge "J" Salazar pulls his old Nintendo Entertainment System out from the back of his mom's closet so he can show it off to his baby brother, Jonathan. Dusting off a cartridge, Jorge exclaims: "Forget Halo 2, little man, Super Mario was the shit." The nine-year-old Jonathan stares back blankly. Jorge pulls out a second Mario game: "These right here are real Latin video game heroes." Jonathan asks "For real?" "His name is Mario, ain't it," answers Jorge, "look at that moustache – is that papi or what?" Johnathan picks up the cartridge and begins to study it, his mouth slightly open. Suddenly, he scrunches up his face and blurts out: "Damn, why he gotta be picking vegetables then?" Created in 1983, Mario has appeared in over 100 video games and is the official mascot of Japanese video game maker Nintendo.

(image by tonystl via flickr)

Sunday, March 14, 1992. Nine-year-old Adolfo Esparza is sitting in the cool basement of Corpus Christi Church in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. Sister Moira is holding up a painting of a handsome bearded man with soft eyes and long, flowing hair. "Who is this man?" she asks, staring directly at the painfully shy Yureli Ramirez. Yureli squirms in her chair, her lip drawn and eyes lowered. Adolfo, sensing the opportunity, shoots his hand in the air. "I know, Sister Moira. My parents love him." Sister Moira smiles broadly and answers: "We all do." Adolfo, delighted, adds: "My favorite song is 'Tú Carcel.' I love Los Bukis, too." Three years later, Marco Antonio Solís leaves Los Bukis and releases his solo debut, En Pleno Vuelo.

(image by daveparker via Flickr)

Monday, September 9, 1996. First period: study hall. Gisselle Polchek, formerly of Montclair, New Jersey, is looking out the window, bored, counting palm trees, when Ms. David begins to call attendance. "Beatriz Camacho, Jimena Garcia, Ana Gloria Lopez, Gisselle Polchek." Feeling the fire of 48 eyes burning through her like lasers, Gisselle blurts out "It's Gisela," quickly adding "my mother's Colombian." Though unable to prevent the laughter that follows, she succeeds in becoming the first Gisselle-to-Gisela in over a century.

Tuesday, October 15, 1985. 4pm. Yolanda Guzman, the unflappable math bee sensation at Immaculate Conception, is watching She-Ra at her tia Norma's house. The phone rings and her aunt answers. A few seconds later, her aunt is standing in front of the TV asking Yolanda, in Spanish, to please help her on the phone. Rolling her eyes and sighing deeply, painfully, Yolanda grabs the handset and says "Hello?" It's a man. He has a deep, slow voice. He says he met her tia at a party and wants to ask her out on a date. Yolanda translates everything, except for a phrase she's never head before. Later that night, she writes it down in her Trapper Keeper: sugar booger, sugar booger, sugar booger.

(image by Steve Hopson via flickr)

Saturday, July 20, 1974. 3:23 pm. Tanya Ramirez is sunbathing by the pool at the Avondale Park with her friends Tracy and McKenna when the song "Dark Lady" by Cher comes on the radio. When the chorus starts, Tracy says "Tanya, that's your song." McKenna starts laughing. Tanya, whose parents are from Venezuela, bristles. "Ha ha," she says, "you're just jealous because you can't tan." Leaning forward, Tracy replies "Maybe that's because I'm not from South America." After a second, her voice catching in her throat, Tanya blurts out "My grandparents are from Spain, you know." Throughout the 1970s, sunbathers preferred baby oil get their tan on – these days, a sunblock with a minimum SPF rating of 15 is recommended.

Friday, November 16, 1996. Jonathan Mejia watches a USA vs. México fútbol match with family and friends. When the game ends, the 23-year-old drives to the Soccer Post store where he picks up a crisp white U.S. soccer jersey by Nike.

Later that night, Mejia meets up with friends for drinks. Upon arrival, he removes his jacket to show off his new purchase not realizing that he is the first Mexican-American to wear a U.S. soccer jersey in public. Within seconds, he is doused in cold beer.

But, for Mejia, the real suprise would come later that hour, as he discovered just how effective the jersey's lightweight fabric, designed to whisk away sweat, dries in cold air – even after repeated pours of Corona.