First, read this article about a school in Northern California.
Okay, I can't say whether or not those students who all decided to wear the same t-shirts and bandannas were doing to incite a fight. What I can say is that those of Mexican heritage, the administration, and the alleged perpetrators were completely lacking historical knowledge.
And that should be more of a pisser than anything else.
I mean, c'mon, get it together.
Cinco de Mayo is not Mexican Independence Day. It's to mark the anniversary of the Battle of Puebla in 1862, when a small Mexican Army fought off and won a much larger French Army.
I can't say whether the French Army was drunk off their butts after a night of imbibing the best tequila (because the French would only seek out and have premium stuff). However, if one wanted to be irreverent, they should have worn French ones. They could wear berets, screen films by Truffaut, perhaps have a picnic with serving French food made from recipes straight out of the very American Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," and yes, blare Edith Piaf in the cafeteria. They could practice pithy pick-up lines like, "You have that certain je ne sais quois."
The Mexican students could counter by offering up their own well known cuisine, which we eat everyday (salsa and tortillas are staples in my house. Proof of some kind of gastronomic victory). They could have a film retrospective of works by Cantinflas, display artwork by Diego Rivera, and wear their own t-shirts as well. There could be any number of musicians --take your pick. Maybe the boys could get Salma Hayek to show up. If she did, well, needless to say, Mexico will have won again.
But both ought to think about being the melting pot rather than the salad bowl with all its various elements, which has led to separation. Read about that here in Victor Davis Hanson's "The Remains of a California Day."