汉中特陶卫浴来源:生物通 2019-12-10 04:34:23 A-A+


  Last month, when Julián Castro filed the requisite paperwork to run for president, he had to add an accent over the a in Julián by hand. The Federal Election Commission apparently hadn’t planned for a candidate with a Spanish name.

  It’s one of the many ways his candidacy as the only (so far) Latino in the Democratic 2020 field will make the country contemplate its future. Mr. Castro knows that he is the longest of long shots, but he is nothing if not a product of his hometown, San Antonio — an often underestimated, predominantly Hispanic, American microcosm.

  In recent years, some commentators on the right have expressed fear about what a “majority minority” country would look like. The answer is that it would most likely look a lot like San Antonio, where 64 percent of the city’s 1.4 million residents are Hispanic and unemployment is below the national average.

  After serving as mayor of San Antonio from 2009 to 2014, Mr. Castro, 44, became the secretary of housing and urban development under Barack Obama. But his strongest selling point as an antidote to President Trump and his immigrant bashing might be his runty, but wildly successful, experiment of a hometown.

  “At this time when the nation feels so polarized, I saw exactly the opposite in my community,” Mr. Castro told me. “A place where people of different backgrounds generally got along very well together.”

  San Antonio, 150 miles north of the Mexican border and 80 miles south of Austin, is a petri dish of the country’s future. It’s a place where wage growth has surpassed the national average, housing is 13 percent cheaper than the national average and those who earn the median household income of ,774 can get a single-family home, access to a good public education and tickets to the occasional Spurs game.

  The low cost of living and the healthy economy, bolstered by jobs in tech and cybersecurity, have made San Antonio the fastest-growing city in the country for the past several years, and given it the nation’s second-fastest-growing population of millennials, according to the Brookings Institution. The number of residents is expected to double in the next 20 years, with 66 people added daily, according to census data.

  Julián and his twin brother, Joaquin, who is a Democratic congressman representing the 20th District of Texas, graduated from San Antonio’s public schools several years before I did. Tales of the overachieving twins were local folklore. Their images are painted on the walls of the Pico de Gallo Tex-Mex restaurant and in a mural at Mi Tierra Cafe y Panaderia, along with that of the slain Tejano singer Selena.

  We share the same scrappy underdog attitude that comes with being from San Antonio, a working-class city flanked by military bases and overshadowed by Austin, its ritzier and (in my unpopular opinion) insufferable neighbor. The seventh-largest city in the country by population, San Antonio sprawls across 465 square miles of craggy terrain of mesquite trees and cactuses, giving it an unpretentious, small-town feel.

  New Yorkers mostly know it as being the home of the Alamo. Sometimes they’ll say to me, “Oh, isn’t there a river there?” To which, I usually joke that, yes, as a matter of fact, it is the Venice of Texas. (It is nothing like Venice.) Even when the Spurs racked up national N.B.A. championships, the coastal sports media dismissed them as boring. (Luckily, another local hero, Coach Gregg Popovich, is around to belittle said national media.)

  “We’re not Houston or Dallas, we don’t boast,” said Leticia Van de Putte, a San Antonio native and former state senator who ran for lieutenant governor of Texas in 2014. “We never give ourselves the ‘atta boys’ or ‘atta girls,’ it’s not in our nature.”

  If you spend enough time in San Antonio, it’s hard not to run into one of the Castro brothers. (“Half the time they think I’m my brother,” Julián Castro said). When we were both back home, Mr. Castro and I usually caught up over tacos, so, just before Christmas, when he was in New York, I met him at La Esquina, a taqueria in Midtown.

  “Not as good as Texas, but not bad,” Mr. Castro said, a cautious politician’s verdict on the .99 barbacoa tacos that we both knew would have been fluffier and cost 99 cents in San Antonio.

  We spent the first few minutes catching up on local gossip — a mutual friend; The San Antonio Express-News holding a grudge because he didn’t give it an exclusive about his plans to run. (“They put my story in the Metro section!”)

  When asked by reporters why he was running, given that he hardly registers in the national polls, Mr. Castro talked about his hometown. “I said, ‘Go to my neighborhood that I grew up in — nobody was the front-runner there,’” he recalled. Mr. Castro will base his campaign in San Antonio, starting with a kickoff rally next Saturday.

  Until recently, San Antonio was reliably red, but like much of the Southwest, it has been transformed into a battleground by its young and Latino population, bad news for Republicans fearing an increasingly purple Texas. In the midterms, every major statewide candidate, including Senator Ted Cruz and his Democratic opponent, Beto O’Rourke, poured resources into winning San Antonio.

  “Julián’s rising to the national stage is really symbolic of San Antonio’s trajectory” — and, by extension, the country’s, said Jenna Saucedo-Herrera, president and chief executive of the San Antonio Economic Development Foundation.

  Part of Mr. Castro’s candidacy will be educating voters about what it means to be an acculturated Mexican-American, identifying not with Mexico or “los gringos,” but as a uniquely American, comfortably hyphenated blend of the two.

  After writing in the accent on his F.E.C. paperwork, Mr. Castro talked briefly with local reporters in the little yellow living room of his house on San Antonio’s Northwest Side. The political press jumped on the painting of the Virgin of Guadalupe that hung behind Mr. Castro — a sign he would be appealing to Latino voters! — but Mr. Castro just calls that his living room.

  It infuriates Mr. Castro that Republicans knock him for not speaking fluent Spanish. “There’s a stinging irony in that these people were saying you weren’t good enough before because you didn’t speak English well enough, and today, somehow you’re not good enough because you don’t speak Spanish well enough?” he said.

  In 1922, Mr. Castro’s maternal grandmother emigrated from Coahuila, Mexico, to Eagle Pass, Tex., and worked as a maid. Like many children of immigrants, his mother, Rosie Castro, a civil rights activist and single mom, raised her own children to speak English.

  For all its growth, San Antonio remains starkly divided by income. Mr. Castro’s wife, Erica Lira Castro, works in the Harlandale Independent School District on the city’s South Side, where one in five people live below the poverty line and where she grew up.

  Mr. Castro went from Jefferson High School, with a 95 percent Hispanic student body, to degrees from Stanford and Harvard Law. But we both are sometimes snubbed back home for not having attended Alamo Heights High School, the public school on the city’s wealthier side of town. It’s become this running joke.

  In December, I asked Mr. Castro if he thought the joke would stick, now that he is preparing to run for president, and ready to make the case that San Antonio should be this country’s future. He has accomplished so much already, we both laughed, without Alamo Heights.

   “Oh, well,” he said. “Imagine what I could’ve been.”

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  汉中特陶卫浴【新】【书】【来】【了】,【诸】【位】【喜】【欢】【南】【极】【海】【的】【书】【的】【兄】【弟】【姐】【妹】【们】,【可】【以】【去】【看】【看】【喽】! 【新】【书】【发】【布】,【一】【口】【气】【就】【快】10【万】【字】【了】。 【挺】【肥】【了】,【可】【以】【看】【了】。

"【他】【们】【都】【是】【自】【己】【人】,【山】【野】【大】【佐】【没】【告】【诉】【你】【们】【吗】?" 【冈】【村】【平】【川】【及】【时】【出】【现】,【呵】【斥】【着】【哨】【兵】【放】【行】。 【宋】【天】【叙】,【张】【强】【等】【人】【随】【同】【冈】【村】【平】【川】【大】【尉】【上】【了】【舰】【船】,【留】【下】【陆】【有】【标】【在】【此】【警】【戒】,【其】【余】【的】【都】【随】【冈】【村】【走】【向】【后】【舱】。 【张】【强】【拿】【出】【一】【把】【飞】【镖】,【以】【刃】【口】【抵】【住】【冈】【村】【的】【后】【腰】【说】【道】: "【掷】【弹】【筒】【在】【哪】?【可】【别】【跟】【老】【子】【玩】【花】【样】,【否】【则】【我】【手】【一】【抖】,【飞】【镖】【刃】

【公】【元】2019【年】,【元】【旦】。 【随】【着】【近】【期】【一】【支】【考】【古】【队】【成】【功】【打】【开】【昭】【烈】【皇】【帝】【墓】【陵】【的】【消】【息】【传】【开】,【一】【款】【名】【为】【国】【家】【宝】【藏】【的】【真】【人】【脱】【口】【秀】【节】【目】【也】【成】【功】【的】【火】【了】。 【这】【款】***【的】【模】【式】【其】【实】【并】【不】【新】【颖】,【一】【个】【主】【持】【人】,【一】【名】【嘉】【宾】【以】【及】【相】【关】【的】【专】【家】【组】【成】,【原】【本】【是】【没】【什】【么】【看】【头】【的】,【但】【因】【为】【这】【一】【期】【是】【要】【讲】【述】【季】【汉】【传】【奇】,【所】【以】【有】【不】【少】【这】【个】【时】【期】【的】【历】【史】【迷】【纷】

  【看】 skt rng【比】【赛】。汉中特陶卫浴【哪】【些】【东】【西】【是】【十】【二】【星】【座】【应】【该】“【扔】【掉】”,【天】【蝎】【是】【控】【制】【欲】,【那】【你】【呢】?【每】【个】【人】【都】【有】【一】【个】【星】【座】,【星】【座】【也】【决】【定】【了】【一】【些】【人】【的】【性】【格】。【那】【么】,【哪】【些】【东】【西】【是】【应】【该】“【扔】【掉】”【的】【呢】?【下】【面】【我】【们】【就】【一】【起】【见】【分】【晓】。

  【他】【们】【还】【有】【正】【事】【要】【谈】,【这】【个】【丫】【头】【跪】【在】【这】【里】【难】【道】【还】【想】【请】【公】【子】【首】【肯】【原】【不】【原】【谅】【的】【问】【题】? 【奴】【儿】【根】【本】【不】【理】【他】,【眼】【睛】【还】【是】【盯】【着】【独】【孤】【殇】,【半】【晌】,【凄】【笑】【着】【开】【口】。 “【独】【孤】【殇】……” 【她】【竟】【然】【直】【呼】【他】【的】【名】【字】,【纵】【然】【是】【落】【尘】【和】【花】【离】【也】【不】【敢】【这】【么】【直】【呼】。 【以】【至】【于】【她】【这】【么】【轻】【飘】【飘】【的】【三】【个】【字】【吐】【出】【后】,【花】【离】【的】【剑】【便】【直】【接】【仗】【在】【了】【她】【的】【肩】【头】。 【她】

  【彼】【时】,【赵】【无】【瑕】【正】【钻】【在】【阮】【绵】【娇】【怀】【里】【抽】【抽】【搭】【搭】【哭】【泣】,【阮】【绵】【娇】【阴】【沉】【着】【脸】,【完】【全】【不】【似】【之】【前】【跪】【在】【他】【面】【前】【那】【样】【低】【眉】【顺】【眼】。 【赵】【昌】【琨】【站】【在】【门】【外】,【从】【屋】【里】【向】【外】【望】【去】【恰】【好】【是】【个】【死】【角】——【屋】【里】【看】【不】【见】【但】【是】【外】【面】【看】【的】【一】【清】【二】【楚】【的】【死】【角】。 【阮】【绵】【华】【想】【上】【前】【通】【报】,【赵】【昌】【琨】【摆】【摆】【手】,【制】【止】【了】【她】。 【阮】【绵】【娇】【严】【厉】【道】:“【哭】【够】【了】【没】【有】?【惹】【到】【你】【父】【皇】【了】,

  【调】【养】【身】【体】【不】【是】【一】【时】【半】【会】【能】【够】【完】【成】【的】,【江】【羽】【全】【部】【写】【在】【纸】【上】【交】【给】【颜】【书】【竹】【主】【要】【是】【担】【心】【颜】【书】【竹】【调】【养】【身】【体】【调】【养】【了】【一】【半】【自】【己】【的】【任】【务】【就】【完】【成】【了】【需】【要】【回】【去】【了】。 【为】【了】【防】【止】【这】【种】【事】【情】【的】【发】【生】,【江】【羽】【知】【道】【将】【所】【有】【的】【事】【项】【全】【部】【写】【在】【之】【上】,【包】【括】【那】【一】【阶】【段】【可】【能】【出】【现】【的】【问】【题】【和】【应】【对】【的】【方】【法】【都】【写】【在】【了】【方】【子】【上】。 “【这】【个】【就】【是】【药】【方】【了】,【回】【去】【之】【后】【让】【你】【家】

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