When the flags of Spain and Mexico flew over Texas, there were many Josés, but scarcely a Pooja to be found. When the flag of France flew over Texas, there were many Jeans, but scarcely a Pooja to be found. When the Lone Star flew over the Republic of Texas, and later the flag of the Confederacy, there were many Johns, but scarcely a Pooja to be found. Then came the Stars and Stripes. Beneath it, Josés and Jeans and Johns lived together — some rooted in the soil for generations, others more newly arrived — each with a different claim upon the land and its history. Then, five seconds ago, Pooja arrived. She surveyed the descendants of all those who had come before her, announced that she was every bit as Texan as they were, and informed them that if they didn’t like it, they were free to leave.