Misery is a State of Mind, Not a City in Your State

 

By Diego Garcia III | Editor of The Brownsville Beacon

I am not the most positive person in the world. Some would call me a realist while others would say I'm on the pessimist side of the spectrum. Regardless, optimism is something I'm rarely accused of.

That said, I know where to assign blame for anything and everything, particularly misery.

I have not been in the best of spirits for the past few years. You can take your pick. From my declining health, to the woman i believed was the love of my life abandoning me, to the loss of family members and friends, or to the general dismay and negativity from the current social and political climate, I know I am sad and yes, at times, miserable.

But that sure as hell isn't Brownsville's fault. 

Some time ago, a coworker gave me some valuable advice. I carry it with me to this day. He told me to never kid myself. Whatever you are; whatever you choose to be — own it.

And I do. I know I'm not the ray of sunshine I used to be. I know I have let the weight of my world take its toll on me. I know I am sad and miserable. But I also know I am my own worst enemy.

It is NOT Brownsville's fault.

Juan Montoya, publisher of one of Brownsville's preeminent blogs, El Rrun Rrun, posted a story written by James Pasley and Angela Wang and published by the website Insider in September of 2019 titled "The 50 most miserable cities in America, based on census data."

The article starts out by saying, "Not the worst, just the most miserable."

It then goes on to list cities across the United States. Brownsville, Texas makes the list at number 12. It goes on to list reasons why including a high number of people without health insurance, a high number of people living in poverty, and everyone's favorite — Brownsville's proximity to the border with Mexico has the area crawling with illegal immigrants and all kinds of law enforcement. It even makes a reference to "locals" saying three different types of helicopters circle the city overhead.

I understand the census collects all kinds of demographic data, but I don't ever remember filling out a portion of the survey asking just how miserable I am.

Misery is a state of mind. At the risk of sounding like Polyanna, your state of mind is what you make it. You cannot reduce Brownsville and its 183,000 citizens to a statistic. You can't reduce the people to a number on a spreadsheet or a black line of text on a list. 

I understand people will always speak negatively of Brownsville, and I know some people like to refer to my beloved hometown as the "Third World Capital of the United States," but I do not agree. While some of our institutions are filled with people who are corrupt and engage in all kinds of graft, and we have our share of issues that need fixing, the city proper is not to blame for our shortcomings.

We are to blame. But that is a conversation for another time.

Brownsville is one of the oldest cities in the Rio Grande Valley, being established at the end of the US - Mexican War in 1848. Brownsville was here before the other major cities of the Valley, including Harlingen and McAllen. Brownsville has a colorful history going back to the time when the borderlines were drawn and Texas declared independence from Mexico.

Brownsville has been an integral part in shaping the state and the country — as went Brownsville, so went Texas. Major battles of the US - Mexican war were fought here in Brownsville along Military Highway and Paredes Line Road. The final battle of the Civil War was fought here. Our port was, and is, instrumental in promoting and furthering international trade. One of the staples of Texas' economy, cattle, roamed the Valley and one of the most historic cattle trails of Texas started here. The railroad industry helped Brownsville grow, and is still a key part of our city.

We have been at the forefront of history going back to the days of Fort Texas (later Fort Brown). Scientists who have developed cutting edge medical treatments, world explorers, stars of the silver screen, and even a future President of the United States have had Brownsville soil beneath their feet.

Our natural beauty is an attraction for birdwatchers and nature enthusiasts all over the world. Several people travel to Brownsville to see birds migrating at one of our wildlife preserves. 

Historical preservation and rejuvenation is making Downtown Brownsville livelier and nicer than it has been in years. Several business owners are repurposing old structures and making them lofts, apartments, restaurants, and watering holes. Many of the historic buildings that had fallen into disrepair are being brought back to life. Downtown Brownsville at night is filled with a kaleidoscope of color and sound that had been long lost.

Life is different here in South Texas. It moves along at a slower pace than it does in other parts of the country. The people are friendlier. The food is authentic and has a home cooked feel. Brownsville is not Austin. Brownsville is not San Antonio. Brownsville is not McAllen. Brownsville is Brownsville. With all her flaws and imperfections, she is still a diamond in the rough. She is still the crown jewel of the Rio Grande Valley — yes, there is still some magic left in the Magic Valley.

I know times are hard. I know times are rough. I know Brownsville is far from perfect and yes, there are several improvements that need to be made, but that doesn't mean you give up on Brownsville. You work to make it better. You work to make it a better place for everyone who lives here.

You don't throw something as big as your hometown away because it's broken. You do your absolute best to fix it. 

I was born here. I was raised here. I will die here. Never once in my 44 years of life did I blame my hometown for my misery. I am proud to be from Brownsville. I love my hometown.

The town is not miserable, and if you think it is, you can always pack up and go somewhere you think is less miserable. I think you'll find you can't leave your misery behind at the city limits. If you're miserable here, you'll probably be miserable somewhere else, too.

If you need help finding the exit, I'm sure there are people who can help you find the door. Just don't let it hit you in the caboose on your way out.