CELEBRATING WHAT’S IN THE MIDDLE.

The majority of Latinos in the United States share an indigenous root and legacy, many more than one. As a Chicano, I was taught about the Aztec and Mayan Empires, and the widespread and diverse presence of other indigenous peoples of Mexico. I have been fortunate to visit Mexican pyramids and ruins, and the encyclopedic National Museum of Anthropology in Mexico City. Farther afield, I have been blessed to visit historic Cuzco and breathtaking Machu Picchu, remaining centers of the vast and powerful Incan Empire.

This is all great, but what about the indigenous civilizations in the middle? If you’re lucky, maybe you’ve heard of the Kuna, and even visited the Panamanian islands of San Blas. Maybe you’ve seen a piece of contemporary Honduran Lencan pottery, probably in a gift shop. Maybe you know something of the struggles of the Miskito peoples of Nicaragua or, more harrowing, of the brutal genocide visited upon Mayan villages in the Guatemalan highlands.

If you’re like me, and you’re honest with yourself, you probably know painfully little about the pre-Hispanic civilizations and legacies of Central America. There are a lot of reasons for this, but that’s the subject of another column. For now, suffice it to say that Central America has historically received little attention except for responding to the exploits of the United Fruit Company, the building of the Panama Canal, the rise of Sandinista and Farabundo Martí movements and governments, the Contra scandal, the devastating civil wars of the 1980s and resulting diaspora to this country and the emergence of menacing street gangs.

What peoples did the Spaniards “encounter” in this region? What were their names? What do we know about their social organization, agricultural practices and foodways, arts, spiritual practices and relationships with the natural environment? Finally, and sadly, what do we know about the consequences of devastating colonial degradation, code word for imposing European disease, military operations, forced religious conversion and environmental damage?

The mission of the Smithsonian Institution is the increase and diffusion of knowledge. With pride, I can say that its Museum of the American Indian and Latino Center have hit the targeted mission with the recent opening of Cerámica de Los Ancestros: Central America’s Past Revealed, a pioneering exhibition illuminating Central America’s vibrant past, currently on view at the American Indian museum on the National Mall. The exhibition will be up through February 1, 2015.

Connecting with the Central American community, the largest immigrant group in the D.C. region, is a task to which we now turn our focus. Salvadorans, Guatemalans and Hondurans are three of the ten largest Latino populations in this country, but many Central Americans will not be able to travel to the National Mall to see the show, so we are devising strategies to engage them via the Internet. Outreach and engagement is the task at hand.

This week, I ran into my good friend Roland Roebuck, a Puerto Rican rock in the D.C. Latino community. Of the Cerámica exhibition, he said, “Bro, you’ve done four important things for the Central American community. You’ve removed the cloak of invisibility, you’ve advanced regional cohesion, you’ve engendered self-esteem and you’re educating folk so that they see the Central Americans from a new and different perspective.” It’s great to be acknowledged for your work, but the real thanks goes to the communities whose legacies we have been fortunate to study and honored to present in one of this country’s most important and prestigious national museums.

The Cerámica exhibition includes a short video with young Salvadoran and Costa Rican anthropologists and archeologists talking about the importance of studying and preserving their indigenous inheritance. “We have to get people to understand that heritage is not something only of the past or that that it should stay in the past, but that is part of us, that it forms part of who we are.” True words spoken by Costa Rican archeology student Andrea Sales, and a succinct gauntlet to those of us working in the diffusion of knowledge business.

MINING TOWN KIDS- WE’RE EVERYWHERE!

Small towns are like big barrios. People know and take care of each other. Which is why Arizona’s mining communities impress me greatly. That, and the people they produce. Some are two towns separated by a hyphen—Hayden-Winkelman, Globe-Miami, Clifton-Morenci—but for all practical purposes they are one community.

They are union towns, in which the International Union of Mine, Mill, and Smelter Workers (IUMMSW), which became the United Steelworkers (USW), combined its labor function with civil-rights and community functions. The union fought the “Mexican wage” system, by which Mexican-descent workers were paid less than their white counterparts for the same work and desegregated public facilities. The union also organized Christmas parties for the kids, blood-donation and voter registration drives, and sponsored community-wide family picnics.

These towns are proud of their own. In Hayden, pictures of all the graduating classes are displayed on the walls of the high-school gym. Miami converted its old high school into a local history museum, which chronicles the town’s history. The contributions of the union stand out as does the memorabilia of local veterans—many of them decorated heroes—who fought in WW II, Korea, and Viet Nam.

The headquarters of the historic 1983 strike that pitted the Clifton-Morenci copper miners against Phelps Dodge and Democratic Governor Bruce Babbitt was the Morenci Miners United Steelworkers Local 616 Union Hall in Clifton. After the strike the union moved, and the hall was bought by Jeff Gaskin, who converted it into a museum of the union and the 1983 strike. A mural that chronicles the strike takes up one entire wall. The community’s pride in the history of the union and the unionists is impressive and moving.

These mining towns have produced some outstanding people. Maclovio Barraza, the late labor and civil-rights leader and founding Chairman of the Southwest Council of La Raza (which evolved into the National Council of La Raza), was from Superior.

The late Juanita Loroña, from Hayden, was a relentless campaigner against discriminatory laws and policies, including the common Arizona practice of allowing children of Mexican descent to swim in public pools only one day a week, after the white kids had used the pool for six days.

Winkelman gave us Cecilia “Ceci” Cruz, longtime civil-rights and political activist in Tucson and one of the founders of the Tucson Women’s Commission. Ceci is the daughter of one of the founders of the IUMMSW Local 886 in Hayden-Winkelman.

Alfredo Gutierrez is from Miami. First elected to the Arizona senate at age 25, Alfredo served as the majority and minority leader in the state senate. During the 1970s, as the Senate Majority Leader, Alfredo was arguably the state’s most powerful elected official.

Globe gave us Dr. Christine Marín, whose father was active in Miami Local 586 of the IUMMSW (later, the Steelworkers). Dr. Marín is a highly respected and nationally known historian and activist scholar who founded the nationally acclaimed Chicano Research Collection Archives at Arizona State University.

Between Globe and Miami is tiny Claypool, the hometown of U.S. Congressman Ed Pastor, who made history in 1992 as Arizona’s first Mexican American elected to Congress.

Morenci gave us the late Octavio “Tavi” Márquez, a lawyer who grew up in a union family. During the halcyon days of the Chicano Movement, when mainstream lawyers would not even talk to us because we were too “radical,” Tavi sought us out and became our lawyer, on a pro-bono basis.

From Bisbee hails one of the country’s most distinguished educators, Adalberto “Beto” Guerrero. Beto made history by spearheading the educational-rights movement in the 1960s that resulted in the U.S. Congress authorizing and funding Bilingual Education in American schools.

From Douglas came Tony Bracamonte, recently retired Dean of Student Services at South Mountain Community College (Phoenix). Tony put his college education on hold for two years to become a full-time organizer, for a stipend of $5 a week, for the Chicano Movement in Tucson. Tony’s signature is on the many political, social, educational, and economic changes brought about by the Chicano Movement.

Also from Douglas is Antonio D. “Tony” Bustamante. As a third-year law student Tony organized a national movement that led to the prosecution of the Hanigan brothers in Arizona for the torture of Mexican farm workers. This was an historical achievement in that this was the first time in our country’s history that the United States government brought a prosecution to vindicate the human-rights protections of undocumented workers who had been physically abused in the U.S.

I’m proud to be from Douglas also and to have worked alongside the two Tonys described above.

And Arizona’s first, and only, Mexican American Governor, Raúl Castro, is from Douglas.

As Christine Marín says: “Mining town kids: they love us or they hate us in Arizona…because we’re everywhere!”

Many of the people discussed above were and are involved in civil rights activism. I believe that is due to the culture of people standing up for what’s right, people helping people, etc., which the unions fomented in Arizona’s mining towns.

“Big cities” can learn much from the small towns. Maybe we should hire some of these fine folks as consultants to teach us about how to build community.

Copyright 2013 by Sal Baldenegro

To contact Sal:  salomonrb@msn.com

LIBROS Y MÁS.

Every year in the Spring, the New Mexican writer and activist, Denise Chavez holds her Border Book Festival in Mesilla, New Mexico, near Las Cruces; and every year it turns out to be more successful than the previous year. She invites celebrated writers to talk about their works and the craft of writing, always show-casing, however, a Latina or Latino writer. Not too long ago she moved her well-known bookstore from its location near the Mesilla Plaza to a new location, The bromide about “Location! Loction! Location!” may be true, but not for Denise Chavez’ book-store. Wherever her bookstore, la gente finds it. That’s because of Denise Chavez. Como Denise no hay dos (there’s no one like Denise).

A couple of years ago, the Big Read Program at Western New Mexico University in Silver City tucked in the southwest corner of the state at the edge of the Gila Wilderness and right on the Continental Divide invited her to talk about her work and her craft as a stellar Chicana writer. The auditorium was filled to over-flow capacity. She is relentless in championing Latin@ writers.

As a professor of Library and Information Studies at Texas Woman’s University in Denton, I used to teach a course on “The Future of the Book” polemicizing the death of the book just to rile up the graduate students pursuing Master’s and Doctoral degrees in the field. This was in the early days of the Sony Bookman and what has now become the world of IPads and Tablets. The book is very much with us and will remain so, I’m sure. Screens have replaced the clay tablets of Ashurbanipal’s Royal Library in Ninevah and the parchment scrolls of the great library of Alexandria. Like human evolution, the evolution of the book will change our relationship to the content in terms of its packaging. We can’t dog-ear the page of a kindle to mark our progress in the book.

No matter, the 2013 Tucson Book Festival was bigger and better than last year’s. In September, Silver City will launch its first book festival entitled Festival of the Written Word, attracting literary luminaries like the Tony-Award Playwright (Children of a Lesser God) Mark Medoff with whom I collaborated on Elsinore, a musical version of Hamlet in 1968, years before the rise of his star. The shelves of the bookcases in my office at Western New Mexico University are over-flowing with books on popular and arcane topics. At the Festival of the Written Word I shall talk about my life as a Chicano/Latino writer (see “Tools of the Trade: Reflections on Writing and the Pursuit of a Chicano Presence in American Life,” Historia Chicana, May 3, 2012).

In the last week of April, our university was invaded by folks from throughout the state attending a childrens’ book event touted as “The Battle of the Books.” Hijole! There were esquincles (kids) all over the place. Back to back, the university hosted a companion book event entitled Literacy Alive a program that encourages writing by high-school students. And on April 30, Western New Mexico University staged a Student Academic Symposium that highlights student research. Our rinconcito (corner of the state) is basking in the spotlight.

Important to note is that all of these events at our university included Hispanic kids, demonstrating their reading prowess and creativity with the written word. Looks like our progeny is going to handle the future well. While our kids are enthusiastic about writing, the states of Arizona and Texas are desperately whiting-out references of Hispanic contributions to the nation. The Texas Textbook Massacre is going at full-throttle in emasculating those contributions from the social science textbooks used in the Texas public schools. In Arizona, the Attorney General is dead set in eliminating Mexican American Studies from the public schools and universities. Hispanic push-back is there but slow. Perhaps a day of national outrage is needed.

At the moment, Libros Traficanes, out of Houston, is the major voice of protest to what is tantamount to demographic vilification, but in every sense of the word: censorship. This is certainly an issue for MALDEF (Mexican American Legal Defense and Education Fund), but it is an incumbent issue for all of us. The essence of our past is in these duels that imperil our future. Elsewhere I’ve asked: What are white mainstream Americans afraid of? They’re afraid of us and the “browning” of America as Samuel P. Huntington exhorted in “The Hispanic Challenge” (Foreign Policy, March 4, 2004). I’m not surprised by Samuel P. Huntington’s rant about immigration  and his contention that American Hispanics will succeed in this country only if they dream in English.

Loathe as I am to say it, the shadow of an angry god is darkening the American landscape, spreading its venom of white supremacy to an already skittish and xenophobic American public. It’s this fear of “the other” that is creating so much anxiety in the wake of 9/11. And it’s this fear that is impeding congressional progress on immigration reform . This fear, however, is all the more reason why American Hispanics need to bruit their history in the United States so that our non-Hispanic fellow Americans can know who we are and that we are not nemesis to the American dream and its ideals. Our history needs to be part of American history. Y por esa razon necesitamos libros y mas (That’s why we need books and more).

At the moment, Arte Publico with Nicolas Kanellos at the University of Houston is leading the way in recovering the Hispanic literature of the United States. In Albuquerque, the Hispanic Cultural Center is doing yeoman’s work in forging an Hispanic image as part of the American character. A recent work of mine La Leyenda Negra/the Black Legend traces the history of anti-Hispanic prejudice and discrimination which is far more widespread and virulent than most of us suspect or are willing to concede.

Hasta la próxima!

Copyright 2013 by Dr. Philip De Ortego y Gasca

On Another Walk

I was walking to an appointment just west of the center of downtown Los Angeles and I couldn’t stop looking at how great the view looked ahead of me. Nothing fancy, just buildings and sky and it all felt electric.

Continuing from my Instagram series (http://instagram.com/amosart).

REMEMBERING SAL CASTRO.

Some 45 years ago Sal Castro told me, “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders – for a guerito – go out and do something good for yourself and for your gente.” He said it with a wicked smile and a knowing nod of his head. That was back in 1968 when I was a student of Sal Castro’s at Lincoln High School. I had just learned that I’d been accepted to college and stopped by his classroom after school to share the news. I never forgot what he said to me all those years ago – through college and through a professional career in journalism. He always good-naturedly kidded me about being a blondish, fair skinned Chicano. (The hair is long gone.) Sal was always alternately serious and playful. He had a great sense of humor. And he had a steely determination to stand up for equality and justice, and he tried to instill that determination in his students.

We lost Sal recently. He was 79 years old. He fought cancer for the last few years of his life. Cancer eventually won that battle. But Sal won many battles throughout his life. He was the catalyst and inspiration for the 1968 Eastside high school walkouts. He fought against racism and discrimination throughout his professional life. He stood up to school administrators and school officials whom we can charitably describe as “insensitive” to the needs of Chicano students. He had courage, the trait I admire most.

He urged students in 1968 to walk out of school, to stage a massive student strike. It took courage for the students to do that, inasmuch as we were threatened with expulsion – or worse—by school administrators who knew the walkouts were likely coming. I certainly wasn’t a leader or organizer of the walkouts. Others in my class took on that role. They were often clumsy and unsophisticated as leaders, but they ended up doing an admirable job when all was said and done. It was a remarkable achievement. Sal helped the students realize that something was wrong and that we could do something about it. Because of the walkouts, the city of Los Angeles, and the country, had to sit up and take notice of Chicano students and their desire for a better education than they were getting in the segregated schools. And Sal was the spirit and conscience of that entire endeavor, at great personal cost to him. I walked out with a notebook and a tape recorder. I was the editor of the student paper, “The Railsplitter,” and the walkouts were my first Big Story.

But the walkouts were just the beginning of the story for Sal. He was fired. He faced criminal charges and his personal life was shattered in the immediate aftermath of the walkouts. But the Chicano community rallied around him and with a great deal of effort and, yes, with a good amount of courage, the community was able to get Sal back into the classroom and force school authorities to begin the process of improving education for Chicano kids. We owe a great deal to Sal.

His tireless work sparked a process of change within the Los Angeles Unified School District and beyond. It was a glacially slow process for some, but it was clear things would not be the same after the walkouts. Some of that change was evident when I attended a ceremony at the hearing room of the LAUSD School Board on March 4, 2008. It was organized by Monica Garcia, president of the school board. (Imagine that. A progressive Chicana as head of the school board; that would have been unheard of in 1968.) Along with Sal Castro and other students from Lincoln and from Garfield we were there to receive certificates celebrating our participation in the walkouts. Again, something seemingly unheard of. What I remember about that day a few years ago was how the Earth seemed to be turned upside down.

In the late 1960s Sal was vilified by the school authorities. He was a “trouble-maker.” He was a “destructive force.” And he was called much worse. On that day commemorating the 1968 school walkouts in 2008 Sal was extolled as “a great leader and a visionary.” My, how things had changed. In 1968 school officials wanted his head. Now, he was being praised for his work, and deservedly so. But the surreality of the change from then to now always stuck with me. When he spoke at that commemoration, Sal talked about the work that was still ahead to ensure equal opportunity for all kids in public school. There was still a lot to be accomplished, he said.

And he was right, of course. After I left Lincoln High, went to college and graduate school and began a long career in broadcasting and journalism, I stayed in touch with Sal. He became a friend and a trusted source on educational issues. He never lost the fire in his eyes for the battles to be fought. He never lost his enthusiasm for the task of encouraging Chicano students to do well and to embrace their proud heritage. I’ll always remember his commitment to justice. And I won’t forget his sense of humor either. Even though he sometimes playfully gave me a hard time for being a guerito among a sea of morenos.

____________________________________________________________________________

 Luis Torres, a journalist and writer from

Pasadena, California, is at work on a

book that examines the 1968 East  Los

Angeles high school student walkouts.

He can be reached at  luis.r.torres@charter.net

HOW TO HONOR A GIANT.

This month I was going to focus on some cultural matters, but then César Chávez got in the way. Many communities recently honored César Chávez, a labor- and civil-rights icon who, Arizonans proudly point out, was born and died in Arizona.

I’m proud to have known and marched with Chávez and to have walked miles of picket lines over the years on behalf of the United Farm Workers (and other unions). Thus it was that a recent news story on NBCLatino caught my eye.

The article reported that police in Chico, California were finalizing “…plans for increased patrols on Cesar Chavez Day.” Chavez adhered to and promoted non-violence. His birthday is usually celebrated by a peaceful march or a breakfast, featuring speeches by elected officials and local leaders (many of whom, truth be told, should not be confused with bona-fide civil rights fighters).

So, why would police be strategizing “increased patrols?”

It seems that César Chávez Day has become a party day for Chico State University students, who put on sombreros and ponchos and get drunk on tequila. The Cross Cultural Leadership Club, comprised of Latino and other organizations, took offense and organized a rally and set up an information booth on campus to provide accurate information on César Chávez.

“It is just disrespectful to see how they dress up. They see it as a Halloween day or just a holiday to drink, but it is more than that,” said a CCLC member. “[Chávez] just created a better environment for workers overall,” said another Latino member of CCLC.

The CCLC folks are to be commended for standing up to those who invoke racist stereotypes to demean a true American hero. That shows courage and integrity. Where they lost me was in what they suggest people do to honor César Chávez.

Those working the César Chávez booth said they want students to embrace the true meaning of César Chávez Day and get involved with community projects such as helping clean up area parks and lending a helping hand at various charities.

To be sure, those are worthwhile things. However, César Chávez was not about promoting civic projects.

The ignorance (and I mean that in its literal sense) of the CCLC students about César Chávez and his work is a manifestation that history courses in the K-12 system do an abysmal job of teaching about Chávez and the extraordinary and historic accomplishments of the movement he led.

Chávez set out to make fundamental changes in the labor, social, and economic systems of the country—a far cry from cleaning up city parks or volunteering for the United Way.

Honoring Chávez entails more than attending breakfasts and socializing while walking in a symbolic march and listening to speeches. To truly honor Chávez is to get in the trenches of the civil-rights struggles in our respective communities.

That in turn entails standing up to injustices and doing the hard work of organizing communities, which often involves walking picket lines.

El Teatro Campesino, the UFW’s artistic appendage, wrote and recorded a song titled “El picket sign.” The song’s introduction says, “One of the most important weapons in any cause, any movement, is the picket sign.”

Frankly, I don’t know anyone who actually likes to picket. It’s hard work, and in the summer heat, the winter cold, or when it’s raining it’s mighty uncomfortable. People yell insults at you, throw rocks and other objects at you, and you risk arrest every time you hit the picket lines.

But all of that is worth it: the scores of Fridays and Saturdays that I and others picketed local stores (asking people to boycott grapes, lettuce, and certain wines) contributed to farm workers obtaining union contracts, which helped them achieve a better life.

Absent those picket lines farm workers would still be paid starvation wages, would still have pesticides sprayed on them as they worked in the fields, and their children would still be pulled out of school to work the fields.

Picket lines have also brought changes in other areas of life. In Tucson and Arizona, and elsewhere, I’m sure, Latino(a) teachers, counselors and administrators abound in our school systems and in colleges and universities. We count our college and university enrollments in multiples of thousands rather than tens. And, Latinas(os) are routinely elected to office.

We fought hard for these things—among our arsenal of weapons was the tried and true picket line.

As we speak, marches—the larger version of picket lines—for immigration reform are forcing a change in how immigration is discussed and addressed. And the Dream Act is on the verge of being passed as a result of young people eligible for the Dream Act marching and picketing in communities all over the country.

Honoring César Chávez is a year-round endeavor and is more than attending breakfasts and socializing while walking in a symbolic march. To truly honor Chávez is to get in the trenches of the civil-rights struggles in our respective communities. This may or may not entail walking picket lines, but if it does, we should do it proudly, knowing we are continuing a rich and productive tradition in our history.

Copyright 2013 by Sal Baldenegro

JACKIE ROBINSON.

Not long ago something happened that really had me scratching my head.

I accompanied a friend of mine who went to Tucson to shoot a little film about the political scene in Arizona, a state where Latinos seem to be under siege. The first stop on that little tour was the office that been the campaign office for Congressman Raul Grijalva. A group of Chicano students from Cal State Northridge had gone down there to help with some street canvassing. The office walls were decorated with a number of photographs of iconic American figures.

I walked up to a wall where a photo was hanging. It was classic black and white photograph of a Major League Baseball player sliding into home plate, his Brooklyn Dodgers cap flying dramatically off his head. I’d seen that photo lots of times. When I was seven or eight years old I remember first seeing it in Life Magazine. A young Chicana was staring at the picture when I walked up beside it, admiring it – and admiring the thought of this young Mexican American woman being impressed with what the photo evoked. I said to her, “Well, there he is, amazing to think about what that represents isn’t it?” She stared at me blankly. Her eyes seemed to say, “What the heck are you talking about?”

Immediately,  I started thinking, “Maybe this print is just to blurry and out of focus for her to see clearly who that baseball player was.” I was wrong. I said to her, “That’s Number 42.” Now she looked at me as if I was from another planet, or smoking something that’s now presumably legal in Colorado.

A bit exasperated I said finally, “That’s Jackie Robinson.” Then, astonishingly to me, she said, “Who is that?” Then I looked at her as if she was from Mars.

I ended up giving her a two-minute history of Jackie Robinson and the trancendent social-historical-political significance of his breaking of the color line in Major League Baseball in 1947. “Really, I didn’t know that,” the college student replied.

I walked away from that conversation stunned.  I stood there as if I was frozen at the plate, bat in hand, having taken a called third strike hurled with blinding speed by Sandy Koufax.

A dozen questions bounced around in my head. How could an apparently intelligent college student not know who Jackie Robinson was? Is it a generational thing? Is it just that I’m heading into codgerdom; maybe I’m making the wrong assumptions about what young, educated people should know? Am I just assuming too much about our collective contemporary American history? And the final question I asked myself: where did we go wrong that someone in this country just wouldn’t know something as basic as who Jackie Robinson was and what he represents – to all of us?

That incident happened a while back, but thoughts of it were rekindled recently when I saw a trailer online about the new biopic “42”. The film opens to coincide with opening day of the baseball season.

For days I seemed a little bit obsessed with that encounter with the college student in front of that iconic photograph. I went out of my way to ask people what they thought about it. I found myself asking twenty-somethings at Starbucks or at Vons or at the library if they knew who Jackie Robinson was. Nothing scientific about my “survey” of course, but I was astonished again and again the more I probed. Young folks – black and white, Latino and Asian American – didn’t seem to know who I was talking about. (At one point at dinner my wife chided me, “Just give a rest.”) Yet, I was a bit obsessed by all this.

Who else doesn’t register with young people? Do young people also not know about Rosa Parks? Cesar Chavez?  Neil Armstrong? Goodness, even president Kennedy and the assassination? Individuals in history are mileposts in our collective experience. They’re the catalysts into historical epochs. Stuff, it seems to me, we should all know and share. I wanted to fault the school system, which let’s face it, is under attack for seemingly doing everything wrong. That’s not entirely fair, of course, given that public schools have their share of problems and are probably earnest in doing the best they can. But something is wrong somewhere. I certainly don’t know the answer, but I am troubled by the consequences.

Maybe it’s just that I live in Pasadena, the mecca of all things Jackie Robinson and my perspective is skewed. No I don’t think that’s it. I grew up in East L.A. and I certainly knew who he was. Maybe it’s because I played baseball as a kid and that’s why I knew. No, that can’t be it. It’s something I grappled with and still grapple with.

Maybe it’s a generational thing, after all and maybe I should stop fretting that some young people just don’t know who Jackie Robinson is and what his accomplishments mean to this country. Maybe I’m just getting old and maybe I’m losing perspective. One young person I quizzed at the grocery store told me, “That all happened before I was born, how should I know about it and why should I know about it.” That did it. Hey, I wasn’t around when Franklin D. Roosevelt was president, but books have told me who he is. So that explanation by that kid in the grocery store just doesn’t wash with me.

Where have we gone wrong?
__________________________________________________________________________________

Luis Torres, a journalist and writer from

Pasadena, California, is at work on a

book that examines the 1968 East  Los

Angeles high school student walkouts.

PASARON POR AQUÍ.

New Mexico reminds me a lot of Spain, especially northeast Spain going towards Asturias. Maybe that’s why the early Spanish explorers and settlers sought to make New Mexico into New Spain. In many ways they succeeded. In many ways they were heavy-handed and brutal with the Native Americans.

Nevertheless, as Edward Rutherford points out in Sarum, his novel of England, out of necessity the hunters and settlers of Neolithic England determined that their future lay in cooperation while respecting each other’s ways and mores. We are not yet there in New Mexico, but Rutherford’s novel of England covers thousands of years, time enough to establish cooperation and respect. In my language and linguistic classes over the years I ask students to comment on language as the glue of unity among disparate peoples in a nation. Invariably the conclusion is “no,” language is not the glue of unity, settling instead on “respect” (Aretha Franklin’s R-E-S-P-E-C-T) as the glue of unity.

What remains of the Spanish entradas into New Mexico and what is readily visible is the historical blending of people and the place names they left behind, reminding us que pasaron por aqui—they passed this way. The indigenous peoples of New Mexico did not disappear upon arrival of the Spaniards. Descendants of those people are everywhere in New Mexico. My maternal grandfather Atilano Geronimo Campos was an Apache, and he is with us today in the homologous presence of his grandchildren and their children. His wife Eufracia Gasca, my maternal grandmother, was of Basque origins and she is with us today in the blended presence of her grandchildren and their children in their mitochondrial DNA. Philosophically we can say “this was their future”—their immortality, so to speak.

Their progeny was perhaps their greatest legacy. In New Mexico that progeny has scaled the heights of success in all the professions and disciplines. Les debemos mucho a los quien pasaron por aqui—we owe a lot to those who came before us. This is quite clear in the documentary film North From Mexico  which I narrated. Based on Carey McWilliams’ monumental work of 1948 on Mexicans in the United States, the film was produced by Sumner Glimscher for Greenwood Press in 1971. I was privileged to work on the script adaptation of the book with Harold Flender who wrote the script for Paris Blues with Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. More importantly, perhaps, is that Carey McWilliams recommended me specifically as a consultant to the documentary. My principal role in that effort was to establish and maintain fidelity to the facts of that historical encounter between Spaniards and Indians in New Mexico.

Notwithstanding the politics of her success, Susanna Martinez, the present governor of New Mexico, achieved a stunning victory in her election to the governorship of the state. She is indeed the first Hispanic woman to be governor of a state in the United States. That is an accomplishment of major proportions, no matter the ideology of her politics. How long her tenure will be depends on the color of the state—that is, red or blue. At the moment, New Mexico is a Blue State. Nevertheless, like the rest of us in New Mexico, Governor Martinez is the legatee of those quien pasaron por aqui.

A group spurred by Dorinda Moreno has been busy organizing the 60th anniversary of the film Salt of the Earth shot in Hanover, New Mexico (near Silver City), released in 1954 starring Will Geer and Rosaura Revueltas. While the film is ostensibly about the miners and their strike against the Empire Zinc Company, the film has emerged as a testament to the power of women in the American labor movement. The film was branded “subversive” and was “blacklisted” because it was backed by the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers and backed by blacklisted Hollywood professionals who helped produce it. Writers like Dalton Trumbo worked on the script and was blackballed for his efforts by the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) and denounced as a Communist propaganda film by Senator Joseph McCarthy during the dark days of that American Inquisition in ferreting out communists.

What is surprising is that after more than 60 years the strike against the Empire Zinc Company in Hanover, New Mexico, still wields such interest and fascination. This is simply proof of the power of the enduring spirit in the face of adversity. Los mineros (the miners) of the Empire Zinc Company are an important part of our New Mexico heritage—pasaron por aqui—they left their mark here. Since I use the film in my course on The Chicano Experience in the United States I’ve been asked to be a keynote speaker at the 60th anniversary event.

What is spurring my interest these days is the rising use of social media by Latinos not just in the United States but hemispherically. Everywhere around the state ubiquitous cell phones and iPads are communicating with each other. This is not a white/black or ethnic driven phenomenon; it’s part of the human evolution of communication, made all the more significant because it augurs possibilities for a unity of Latinos. The use of social media, according to the pundits, was the winning element in the re-election of President Obama. The trick now is how to make it work for the aspirations of Latino Americans.

One way, evident at the moment, is the instantaneity of the media. Whoever we want to talk to no matter the distance—hay ‘tan, there they are. Electronic mail hastens that process as well. As does facebook and twitter. That part of the media over which we can exercise some measure of control is advantageous to the amelioration of Latino Americans. Mainstream media, however, is a horse of a different color. On Cesar Chavez Day not one mainstream network featured anything about him. Que hacemos? Manos a la obra! What shall we do? Let’s get to work!
____________________________________________________________________

Dr. Felipe de Ortego y Gasca, Ph.D. (English, University of New Mexico, ‘71) is
Scholar In Residence and Past Chair of the Department  of Chicana/o and Hemispheric Studies,
College of Arts and Sciences, Western New Mexico University and was founding Director of the
Chicano Studies Deaprtment at the University of Texas at El Paso. He is Editor-in-Chief of the
Greenwood Encyclopedia of Latino Issues Today (2 Vols.) forthcoming.

LET’S GET TOUGH ON ILLEGAL BORDER-CROSSERS!

That’s it! I’ve had enough. All this talk about immigration reform. All this talk about “Let’s just accept the fact that they’re here and let’s give them a path to citizenship.” Amnesty? I don’t think so. Enough already! The fact is they brazenly broke the law by coming here without papers. They sneaked across the border into the good ol’ U-S of A. They are criminals – plain and simple. Enough of these sob stories about how resourceful and determined they are to seek a better life in America. If they want a pathway to citizenship, I say they should go back across the border and come into the United States legally. I’m tired of all these illegal border-crossers. I say, “Go back to where you came from!”

Canada!

Yeah, I’m talking about all those illegal aliens from across the border who talk funny. They don’t even speak American! What’s that stuff about putting “Eh” (or is it “ay?”) after every sentence? And they’re taking our jobs, jobs that good Americans would take if they could get ‘em. And they’re diluting and polluting our American culture. All this allegiance to hockey! Why it’s un-American, I tell you. Pretty soon we won’t be celebrating Independence Day on the Fourth of July. Before you know it we’ll be celebrating some weird holiday like Dominion Day on the First of July.

And it’s all because of those illegal border-crossers who have nestled here in the United States, hoping no one will notice. They’re sneaky, this bunch of illegals. I say send them back where they came from. Them damn foreigners.

Them damn Canadians.

They just keep sneaking across the border, “blending in” to America, taking our jobs and slowly transforming our American culture. To show you how sneaky they are, I bet you didn’t know some of the familiar faces you see on TV and in the movies are those sneaky alien Canadians. Here are some of them, in no particular order, no más para que sepan: Pamela Anderson, Dan Aykroyd, Paul Anka, Bryan Adams, John Candy (okay he’s already dead, so never mind him), Raymond Burr (ditto), Jim Carrey, Kim Cattrall, Cirque du Soleil, Celine Dion, Michael J. Fox, Nelly Furtado, Monty Hall, William Shatner, Robert Goulet, Rich Little, Joni Mitchell, and Neil Young (Okay, we’ll look the other way on Neil Young because of his great contribution to pop music.) Get the picture? They’ve infested our country, these aliens.

Okay, okay – some of these Canadians have been here a long time and it would be hard to deport ‘em. But what about the other millions of less-well-known Canadians who have insinuated themselves into the United States of America? I say we take immediate steps to develop a comprehensive immigration reform policy to deal with them. Sure, some of these alien Canadians may claim they were brought here by their parents as children and had no say in the matter. Okay, if they are now law-abiding adults and have either gone to college or served responsibly in our armed services, let’s consider a kind of Dream Act for them. They could stay here, if they pay a fine, admit their guilt and pledge to be good Americans, forswearing hockey for baseball and pledging to learn all the verses of “The Star Spangled Banner” and the names of The Three Stooges. (And pledging to never sing that “O Canada” thing ever again.) That kind of reform can lead to a path to citizenship for those kinds of alien Canadians.

And for the rest of those Canadian aliens, those who knowingly crossed the border illegally as adults, well they have to pay to stay. Immigration reform for them would mean that they go back to Canada voluntarily. They apply to come into the U-S of A legally.

Short of that, we could put them on a pathway to citizenship by making them admit their guilt (breaking the law to come here in the first place), submit to a public flogging to show their general contrition (and to add humiliation to their admission of guilt), then pay a huge fine to compensate for using public services, like public roads, public transportation and public schools. And watching PBS without paying for it; what do they think it is, the CBC? Then they could be allowed a pathway to citizenship, provided they promise never to utter the words “Celine Dion” in public. That’s the kind of immigration reform we need in this country, right now.

There are an estimated one-million “undocumented” alien Canadians in our country right now. And they keep sneaking across the border. I don’t see Arizona or any other state taking steps to round ‘em up. No racial profiling of Canadians by cops. They “look” American, unlike some other undocumented people. It’s a gross miscarriage of justice, I tell you. We need to face facts and get tough on alien Canadians.

Oh, and we would make some exceptions. For example, we could make an exception for everyone associated with productions of Cirque du Soleil. And maybe an exception for Joni Mitchell. But absolutely no exception for William Shatner.

Keep our borders secure, eh!
________________________________________________________________________________

Luis Torres, a journalist and writer from

Pasadena, California, is at work on a

book that examines the 1968 East  Los

Angeles high school student walkouts.

POLITICAL SALSA Y MÁS–WHAT’S HAPPENING IN ARIZONA.

Obviously, “Political Salsa y Más” will address political issues. In terms of the attitude of the Tea Party-Republicans who are in control of Arizona government toward people of Mexican descent, Arizona today is for our community what Mississippi was for African Americans in the 1960s.

These people hate us. They hate our history. They hate us so much they have codified their hate into law by passing abominations such as SB 1070, which questions our very legitimacy in our own land, and HB 2281, which criminalizes the teaching of Mexican American history and literature.

Last month (January, 2013), a federal judge mandated that the Tucson Unified School District, which last year dismantled its Mexican American Studies department, develop and implement “culturally relevant courses” that address Mexican American and African American history in the coming school year.

Whether this is a mandate to reinstate the Mexican American Studies curriculum, as some folks see it, or a vehicle for the school district to impose its own watered-down courses, as others see it, or something in between, won’t be known until the new curriculum is actually implemented.

And it’s not just the Tea Party Republicans whom our community must deal with. The Democratic Party “no hace ni tan malos quesos” (ain’t no great shakes either). The Democratic Party continues to take our community for granted and to work against our interests—for example, by supporting candidates who support SB 1070 and by denying Mexican American candidates the resources of the party (e.g., access to voting lists) that it routinely makes available to white candidates.

I’m old school. I believe that we can’t ethically condemn Republican efforts to suppress the vote of people of color and simultaneously condone Democratic efforts to suppress the candidacies of Mexican Americans. Both of these vile acts violate the spirit of the Voting Rights Act, not to mention common decency. We either condemn both or we condemn neither.

So, there’s much to be discussed in the política side of my blog.

To be true to the “…y más” in my blog’s title, I will write about cultural and other topics. The concept of “culture” encompasses behavioral patterns shaped by traditions; myths and legends; religious and belief systems; ways of perceiving the world; literature and art, etc. Thus, my conception of “culture” won’t be limited to food, music, and dance. I’m based in Tucson and may not be aware of what’s happening in every community in Arizona, but I will do my best to utilize my network of contacts to learn about and report on as wide an array of matters as possible.

A person is the sum of his or her experiences. So as to give readers an idea of what has shaped me and will inform my writing, here is a summary of myself:

I was born on the U.S.-Mexico border, in Douglas, Arizona. We moved to Tucson, where I was raised, in Barrio Hollywood, but I spent many summers in Douglas with my abuelos. I quit high school and ran the streets, resulting in my spending my adolescence in and out of Juvenile Hall and Reform School. Upon my release from Reform School in 1962 I went back to high school as an 18-year-old freshman, graduating at 21. I went on to the University of Arizona, where in 1967 I founded the Mexican American Student Association (MASA) and then the Mexican American Liberation Committee (MALC), which evolved into MEChA, of which I was the founding president.

I quit college to become a full-time organizer for the Chicano Movement, for a $5-a-week stipend (when funds were available). During that period, we—the Centro Chicano—engaged in serious community organizing, which resulted in my being arrested for civil disobedience several times. I helped found El Partido de La Raza Unida (aka LRUP) in Arizona, was a delegate to the 1972 LRUP El Paso Convention and served on El Congreso de Aztlán (the Exec Committee of the LRUP) and ran for City Council in Tucson under the LRUP.

From the Centro Chicano I went on to work as Director of Special Services at Pima Community College and then directed a youth-services non-profit organization for 13 years. In 1982, I went back to The University of Arizona and obtained my B.A. in Sociology and Spanish and then an M.Ed. in Special Education. I served as Assistant Dean of Students, in charge of Chicano/Hispano Student Affairs, at the University of Arizona and served as the Faculty Advisor to MEChA for 18 years. I taught Mexican American Studies for 17 years and was a member and Chair of the Mexican American Studies and Research Center (MASRC) Faculty Advisory Board. My association with MASRC was particularly gratifying in that through MALC I was involved in the establishment of Mexican American Studies at the University of Arizona in 1971. I retired in 2006.

Since my high-school days, I have been involved in issues and matters involving Raza and civil rights. But other aspects of life have also drawn me in. I taught Catechism, coached my sons in youth soccer and Little League and served four terms as a Little League president. I was a newspaper columnist for Tucson’s afternoon daily, the Tucson Citizen, and have served on a myriad of commissions and task forces for the City of Tucson, Pima County, and Tucson Unified School District and on many community agency boards.

Being of the Chicano Generation, I write from a Chicano perspective although I acknowledge that within the aegis of “Latino,” our community is quite diverse.

I look forward to adding the experience of my years in struggle to further Latinopia’s mission to better our community

Salomón R. Baldenegro

Copyright 2013 by Salomón R. Baldenegro.

STARTING A SUPPORT GROUP CALLED “GUEROS ANONYMOUS.”

I’ve sometimes thought about starting a semi-secret organization, complete with decoder rings and speakeasy-like murmured passwords. I’ve fantasized about starting an organization called “Gueros Anonymous.” Or maybe “Gueros Unidos”. Or maybe “Rubios Are Us.”  I’d be the founding member. It would be a kind of fraternal organization made up of light-skinned Mexicans like me. Acclaimed artist Barbara Carrasco could be in it. Chingón Chicano writer Luís Urrea could be in it. My friend Yolanda Garcia, a nationally respected big time educator, could be in it. The possibilities for membership are huge, greater than you might think.

We’d have a kind of Pledge of Allegiance to the Raza and maybe even a theme song and a mascot.  Maybe some sort of secret handshake. What we’d have in common is that all of our adult lives we’ve fought for justice, supported raza arts, music and culture and – this is the key requirement for admission to the group – we’ve often been looked at quizzically and sometimes critically by more “typically-looking” mexicanos and Chicanos. You know, the more morenos and trigueños among us. “Are you really a Mexican?” they sometimes ask. Sometimes they ask silently with their raised eyebrows and near-sneers. Eventually they get around to asking out loud. “Que te importa” is an answer that comes to mind for me sometimes. But usually we gueros answer much more politely as reason and understanding eventually take hold.  Please, no jokes about “every family has a guero in the woodpile.”

But I must tell you it’s always been a bit annoying to have your “authenticity” somehow challenged, just because you’re a rubio. It’s about culture NOT color.

When I was in graduate school at Columbia University in New York I had a colleague who understood that well. And he wasn’t even Chicano. He was more light-skinned than I (and let me tell you, I’ve been mistaken for German, Polish, Italian – even Scandinavian).  The brother was African American. The “gueroist” negro you are ever likely to see. We used to joke together about being a Stealth Mexican or a Stealth Black, sharing experiences about when we innocently infiltrated gatherings of white folks. Let’s face it, whether you’re in a bank, in a courtroom or a business or professional meeting, chances are you will be surrounded by those of the Caucasian persuasion.

Throughout my life I’ve had encounters where I’m in a group of strangers and they start going on and on about “lazy Mexicans” and “dirty Mexicans” and that kind of pendejada. At first, nomás los oigo. They assume I’m white and one of them. As a stealth Mexican I hear lots of stuff like that. Then – ta da! – I reveal that I’m a Chicano, one of “them.” Their reactions would be hysterically funny if they weren’t so tragic. My African American colleague in graduate school shared similar experiences with me.

We got to hear lots of unfiltered talk from gringos about Mexicans and African Americans. It was like having a hidden microphone at a Klan meeting. Or at a PTA meeting, for that matter.

Gringos scramble to backtrack and spout things such as, “But you’re different.” Yeah, sure.” It’s about culture, not color. (Okay, I don’t have a good explanation for all the rubia modelo-types on Televisa and Univision. But that’s another discussion.)

I was lucky going through public elementary school and high school. Lucky in the sense that I happened to like reading and writing – and studying. The library was a sanctuary to me. School was not terrifying and it wasn’t an entirely hostile place for me. It wasn’t the torture chamber that it was for a lot of chicanitos. Teachers noticed that I enjoyed schoolwork and encouraged me. I’m grateful for that. But I can’t help but thinking I was also lucky, given that social context, in that I was a guero. I think it’s possible white teachers somehow thought I had more on the ball BECAUSE I wasn’t a dark-skinned or indio-looking kid. Who knows?

But I don’t think it was a coincidence that a lot of stereotypical looking mexicanos in my public school classes, especially recent immigrants, were a little less likely to get the encouragement from teachers that I did. It’s all about expectations. Study after study has shown that students rise to the level of the expectations of the teachers. If teachers don’t assume you have potential, for whatever reason including appearance, they won’t work very diligently to help students develop that potential. It all becomes a kind of perverse self-fulfilling prophecy.

I once wrote an op-ed essay for the L.A. Times about the stupidity of identifying criminal suspects in the news media as “Hispanic.” What the hell does that tell you about the appearance of a guy out on the street who the cops are looking for? A “Hispanic” can be as blond as Christina Aguilera, as indio as Danny Trejo, as African tinged as wild-and-crazy former Dodger Manny Ramirez. The word “Hispanic” doesn’t tell you a darn thing, when it comes to appearance. It’s meaningless. We are a double-helix arco iris when it comes to appearance.My family is half moreno and half guero, for example. It’s about culture and frame of reference, not color nor physical appearance.

And it isn’t just gringos who make assumptions about you and tailor their behavior toward you based on those assumptions. Back in the Pleistocene in undergraduate school Chicano “student leaders” with Zapata mustaches and fortified with viva la raza steroids would look askance at Chicano students who fell into the guero category. That nonsense would melt away after our “authenticity” was proven. But those first impressions were always very interesting, and telling, to me. It’s not about color it’s about culture. And experience and frame of reference.

By the way, most of those with Zapata mustaches were men.

I was born and raised on L.A.’s eastside. My parents came from pueblitos in the state of Chihuahua. I learned to speak Spanish and English simultaneously because I had older brothers and sisters who had survived the trauma of only speaking Spanish in Kindergarten – and being punished for it. And language has become a kind of litmus test for some, especially during the heady days of the Chicano Movement. Some poor Chicanos couldn’t speak Spanish very well, and they were snubbed by Chicano student “leaders” whose Spanish was solid. Tonterias. But somehow most of us reconciled these issues long ago.

Unfortunately, the “you can’t be Mexican because you’re so fair-skinned” mythology still persists to a degree. On the part of gringos and Chicanos. Somehow gueros are seen as individuals who “can’t be Mexican enough.” Tonterias. Hey, tell that to beautiful fair-skinned redheaded Mexican Rita Hayworth, whose actual name was Margarita Carmen Cancino. I would offer her a posthumous honored membership in this new organization I’m thinking of starting called Gueros Anonymous or Gueros Unidos or maybe …Wanna be a member?

Copyright 2013 by Luis R. Torres

IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE?

I have noticed that more than a few academicians have joined the sport of criticizing some of the icons of the Chicana/o Movement. It concerns me because the criticism is coming from people who often have an axe to grind or simply don’t know what they are talking about.

I have tried to be objective, and in no way do I want to stifle critical analyses of historical figures within the Chicana/o historical experience. I realize that I have my biases; I am protective of the legacy of the late sixties. But, it goes beyond hero worship.

What concerns me is that the type of criticism that I hear often gives people a false sense of power – the power of being in the know.

I also realize that I take criticism personal and accept it from those who have shown some level of sacrifice and commitment. It is hard for me to accept criticism from administrators or white professors who have done nothing to advance the betterment of minority or poor students. The same goes for Chicanas/os who have not worked to correct the imperfections within the Mexican American community.

Criticism is always personal. Admittedly, my criticism of the present generation of Chicana/o scholars is personal. I criticize them for what I consider their lack of mentorship of MEChA and Chicana/o students. I criticize them for not building Chicana/o studies.

Many Chicanas/os sacrificed their scholarly ambitions to establish Chicana/o studies – which was not accepted in 1969. They did it because they wanted to create a pedagogy that would motivate students from inferior schools to learn. The intention was never to build a field of study so Chicanas/os scholars could have employment opportunities.

I am also concerned about the quality of criticism that is coming from the Chicana/o academic community as well as self-identified progressives. It is frankly inchoate and does not rise above the level of middle school gossip.

It is often frustrating. I have spent hours defending a deceased colleague because, according to some, he was offensive because he called students mi hijita (my daughter) and mi hijito. It is proof that he was a sexist pig. It does not matter that the particular professor spent hours talking to students, and giving them a sense of worth when most other professors had split for their homes.

Recently there has been criticism of the late César Chávez. Although César was not perfect, some of the criticism goes beyond that leveled at let’s say Martin Luther King by the African American community. Most – not all of the latest criticism of César reminds me of investigative journalist Ralph de Toledano’s biography entitled Little Cesar that was funded by John Birchers in 1971 and has had a long shelf life.

The main criticisms of Cesar is that he was autocratic and purged leftist out of the union — which he probably did. However, I had long conversations with the late Sam Kushner who wrote Long Road to Delano. Kushner was a communist and wrote for the People’s World. He was close to César and spoke highly of him. Kushner complained that many leftist went into the farmworker’s union to party build. In his words, it was up to César to lay down the rules.

My fear is that many of the critics do not know the nuances of organizing and that their criticisms have the same negative impact as the biography Little César. In terms of the movement, it is important to have symbols and role models. Young people get confused and often believe the worse. Because of the nature of the criticism, the icons and not the system become the enemy.

The other criticism is that César hated undocumented workers, which is ridiculous. César was a trade unionist, and as a trade unionist accepted the ridiculous premise that farmworkers could not be organized until the flow from Mexico was stopped. Few activists at the time emphasized that it was American policy that created migration.

Anyone who has read my pieces knows that I have the highest regard for Ernesto Galarza. He is one of the few intellectuals who I met, and this includes people like Ivan Illich and Paulo Freire. However, Galarza was not perfect; many of his early writings and utterances include the word “wetback.” During the infamous Di Giorgio Strike of the late 1940s, he tried to stop the braceros from coming in and like most Chicanas/os was silent during “Operation Wetback” (1953-55). The Pan American Union that employed Galarza in 1940 was full of CIA operatives. However, based on what I know about Galarza he remained progressive and his contributions are singular.

However, sure as hell does not exist, someone will dig this up. I have already been told that Galarza was half German (his father). Does it really matter? Should it?

This icon bashing is destructive, and we should be aware of it and the harm it does to movements. In many cases it is like telling a kid that the person he or she loves is not his/her father. What is the purpose?

We live in a time when people join groups that confirm their beliefs. The outcome is they live in bubbles not knowing what is happening outside their space helmets. They rarely transform society and correct its imperfections.

I criticize my own department because I care about it and want to improve it. I am always asked why I keep on working, teaching two classes per semester? Why not let go and let the younger generation take over?

I sincerely would like to let go as they say. But as long as my colleagues want to parachute in and out of the department, teaching two days a week and not going to MEChA functions then my feeling is that I would only be hurting the students — who after all is why we should be in Chicana/o studies.

I dread going to NACCS (National Association for Chicana/Chicano Studies) in San Antonio. Every year there are fewer students and more Chicanas/os with sinecures. They have their minds made up, and carry an air of certainty that comes with having a Dr. before their name. I have to listen to the most outlandish assumptions, which are based on one or two oral testimonies of people who they have adopted because through them they become experts.

When I listen to the latest beliefs: César hated Mexicans; Galarza was a German; what went wrong was that the national leaders were cultural nationalists; I silently give the insiders the sign of the cross as we do to people who have expired.

I propose that we have a general discussion about the damaging consequences of our bubbles, and why as long as we are a community of chismes the Chicana/o academic community will continue to have no influence on society. We will remain powerless and the students disaffected.

We should all watch Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life” (1946). It is about George Bailey (James Stewart), who considers himself a failure. His bumbling uncle loses the bank money, and George faces financial ruin and arrest. George contemplates suicide when an angel named Clarence stops him and gives him a crash course on the people he has touched, and what their lives would have been like if George had never been born. George then realizes that, despite all his flaws, he has had a wonderful life.

When I look at the lives of César, Galarza and my deceased friend, I ask whether their lives made a difference. What would life have been like without them? Then I look at the people casting the stones, would life have been any different if they had never been born? We should all apply this test to ourselves and those we criticize.

Rodolfo F. Acuña

___________________________________________________________________

Dr. Rodolfo Francisco Acuña is a historian, educator and social activist. In 1969, he co-founded the Chicana/o Studies Department at San Fernando Valley State College (later called California State University at Northridge). This was arguably the first department of Chicana/o Studies in the nation. Dr. Acuña served as its first chair. Because of his pioneering role in developing Chicano Studies as a respected academic discipline he is often referred to as “the father of Chicano Studies. To contact Dr. Acuña:  hchsc003@csun.edu

STAND UP AND BE HEARD!

Both U.S. presidential candidates have made a point of courting the Latino vote. Both have sent out their Latino/a surrogates to win voters over to their side, with President Obama deploying Eva Longoria, Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, San Antonio Mayor Julian Castro, and singer Marc Anthony, among others. Challenger Mitt Romney has used the U.S. Senator from Florida, Marco Rubio, effectively and also spotlighted New Mexico Governor Susana Martinez as a featured speaker at the GOP convention.

These are wise actions on the part of these presidential candidates and generally on the part of politicians who care about their political parties’ survival in the coming decades. The latest U.S. census and plenty of media reporters have made it amply clear that the Latino demographic is growing, and Latinos are poised to become America’s dominant ethnic group, or the majority, by 2050, representing almost one-third (30%) of the entire U.S. population. As of July 2011, the Latino population in America stood at 52 million, the largest ethnic minority group in our country.

PUTTING THESE NUMBERS IN PERSPECTIVE

How do these numbers break down? According to the Institute for Latino Studies, based at Notre Dame University, 1 in 6 residents in the U.S. today is Latino. In addition, 20% of all school children, one-fourth of all American babies, one-third of Catholics nationwide, and half of American Catholics under the age of 30 are Latinos. The Latino presence in demographic categories across the spectrum is undeniable. In fact, the American Hispanic population is the second-largest in the entire world, behind Mexico.

In sheer voting number potential, Latinos could wield significant clout in the presidential election next month. Both candidates would benefit immensely from the political support at the polls by Latinos. But there’s a major problem.

American Latinos are notorious for NOT voting.

WHY DON’T LATINOS VOTE?

By some estimates, only about 13% of eligible Latino voters in America actually go to the polls and cast their ballots. Throughout much of modern history, this has been the case, and several reasons are proffered for this.

• Latinos feel little investment in the political life of America, often feeling alienated and invisible. Language is a barrier for many, and lack of familiarity with political issues of the day serves as a deterrent for political engagement. Also, because many Latinos feel strong attachment to their Hispanic culture, the disconnect with American politics may be exacerbated.

• Latinos have not felt “invited to the table”: few Hispanics walk the halls of power in legislatures and board rooms across America, and especially in our national Congress, with the U.S. Senate being particularly devoid of Latinos/as. Few, if any, concerted efforts by power-brokers and other national leaders have been made to champion qualified Hispanic candidates, to groom them for leadership positions, and to provide them with resources to seek leadership roles, especially on the national stage. So, inevitably, Latinos often cannot identify with politicians in America.

• On voting day, Latinos might find themselves working long hours, or working second or third jobs to make financial ends meet, and thus cannot afford to take time off to vote.

• This current year, voter ID laws requiring photo identification will most likely dampen Latino voter turnout even more, since studies show that about 20% of eligible Latino voters have no photo ID, stemming from various reasons that include economic constraints.

There are undoubtedly other reasons for Latinos’ failure to vote, but the bottom line is this: Failure to vote nullifies the immense political influence Latinos could have in America, and the unfortunate conditions cited above will continue. The cycle repeats itself.

STANDING UP TO BE HEARD

The age-old adage, “There is power in numbers,” is still true. By standing on the sidelines on election day, the Latino people are diluting their potential to affect change in America, the potential to change how business is done, the potential to participate in our nation’s governance and advocate for greater inclusiveness in our democracy.

Staying away accomplishes nothing whatsoever and is, in fact, an impediment to improvement that sympathetic candidates might successfully undertake, if only they had our support at the polls. In 2012, especially, not showing up to vote can result in the election of a presidential candidate who has vowed to obstruct and prevent various laws and policies that would be highly beneficial to all Americans and especially to Latinos:

• Effective Immigration Reform

• Equal Pay for Women

• Women’s Access to Birth Control and Freedom to Determine their Own Reproductive Decisions

• Everyone’s Access to Healthcare and Better Educational Opportunities

• Access to Higher Education and the Economic and Social Mobility Opportunities a College Degree Provides, and

• The Pursuit of World Peace rather than the Military Militancy that takes so many Latino/a lives each year.

We need to stop and think: How valuable are these freedoms to us as individuals, families, and communities? Are we willing to fight for them, to advocate for them, and to show up and cast a ballot for them?

GETTING THE VOTE OUT

Not just for 2012, but continuing into the future, Latinos must take their right to vote very seriously and insure that they not only show up at the polls and cast ballots, but that they likewise involve every eligible Latino voter they know in exercising this inalienable right.

Social media has emerged as a powerful tool in influencing public opinion in the political sphere. Oftentimes, the “mainstream media,” or the “MSM,” as it’s widely referred to by citizen journalists, pundits, and the mainstream media itself (the well-known and established TV and radio news stations, talk shows, newspapers, major blogs, magazines, and news reporters) fails to report on certain news, or fails to adequately discuss important aspects of news events.

THE IMPORTANCE OF SOCIAL MEDIA IN OUR POLITICS

Recently, for example, President Obama’s supporters across America were dismayed at the MSM’s failure to hold challenger Mitt Romney accountable for the many factual inaccuracies he used in the first presidential debate in October. Despite the contention of allegedly nonpartisan “fact checkers” that Romney had told 28 untruths in a 38-minute period of the debate, for example, most of the MSM touted Romney’s “victory” in the debate rather than spend time discussing and analyzing Romney’s factual inaccuracies, which Obama supporters viewed as deceiving the American people.

Social media, such as Facebook and Twitter, helped to fill the MSM’s gap in reporting on this issue. Facebook and Twitter users lit up cyberspace with commentary, sharing of news links and blog links, and retweeting of information they deemed important enough to pass on. Engaging in Facebook “debates” via commentary with online “friends” and networkers has allowed Americans to weigh in on vital issues that the mainstream media might be ignoring or downplaying, for whatever reasons they perceive as justifiable.

Latinos must utilize social media to energize themselves and help mobilize other Latinos to vote. Discussing issues and the presidential candidates on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Reddit, Tumblr, YouTube, MySpace, and the countless other social media venues can help us all to become informed, to participate in discussions and debates among our friends and networkers, to feel like we’re engaged in our country’s future…because we will be engaged if we take these steps.

And education is ongoing. If we Latinos educate ourselves on the issues, such as by reading high-quality, reputable newspapers online or at the local library if we don’t subscribe to them, we will be more ready and willing to go to the polls, to raise our voices in expressing our preferences for whom we want to lead us, and for what policies we believe are in our best interests as well as in the best interests of our nation.

As the years pass and our demographic grows, as the need for our inclusion in our nation’s destiny becomes more and more pronounced, we cannot and should not be mere observers, mere silent people on the margins. We need to take our own particular, individual destiny in hand and urge everyone around us to do likewise. We become invested in our destiny when we take that small but crucial step as citizens: voting.

Copyright 2012 by Dr. Thelma T. Reyna. This blog first appeared in Aurelio Flores’ website: www.PowerfulLatinas.com

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 Thelma T. Reyna, Ph.D. is author of The Heavens Weep for Us and Other Stories (2009, Outskirts Press), which has won four national awards. Her short stories, poems, essays, book reviews, and other non-fiction have been published in literary and academic journals, literature textbooks, anthologies, blogs, and regional media off and on since the 1970’s. Her first poetry chapbook, Breath & Bone (Finishing Line Press, 2011) was a semi-finalist in a national poetry chapbook competition. Dr. Reyna is an adjunct professor at California State University, Los Angeles. She is a regular contributor of book reviews for Latinopia.com. Her website is www.ThelmaReyna.com.

Angela María Ortiz S. is a Los Angeles-based working photographer who covers many events in the Latino political, entertainment and artistic community for a variety of news services. She is also a serious art photographer. She says of her work, “Photography is my way to document moments and places. Things change so fast and memories fade. With photography you can hold on to the moment or enhance it forever.”  Latinopia previously profiled Angela Ortiz and her work. Now Angela offers a new weekly blog on Latinopia: ANGELA’S PHOTO OF THE WEEK. Here is this week’s photo.

Angela says of this photo:  “For the past few years I start the new year with a hike in Griffith Park. Here is a view of the observatory floating above our city.”

Note: This is the Keynote Address delivered by Dr. Arturo Madrid on the occasion of the 20th Anniversary of The Biennial Conference of the Puerto Rican Studies Association, University of Albany, Albany, NY, October 25, 2012.  The plática and essay was published on the National Institute for Latino Policy listserv list on Sunday, November 18, 2012.

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In 1967, at the height of the debate over the war against Vietnam, the renowned linguist and MIT Professor, Noam Chomsky, took the apologists for U.S. policy in Southeast Asia to task in an essay titled “The Responsibility of Intellectuals.”  In his compelling essay Chomsky echoed and cited Dwight McDonald, a public intellectual of an earlier generation, who in 1944 published an equally powerful critique of U.S. policy in the Second World War, titled The Responsibility of Peoples: An Essay on War Guilt.

“The responsibilities of intellectuals,” Chomsky wrote in 1967, “are much deeper than what Macdonald calls the ‘responsibility of people,’ given the unique privileges that intellectuals enjoy.” “It is the responsibility of intellectuals,” he stated in his essay, “to speak the truth and to expose lies.” McDonald and Chomsky were concerned with the issue of responsibility vis-à-vis the policies and practices of waging war.

The issues facing Latino academic and public intellectuals today, although perhaps less compelling and world-shaking than those of McDonald and Chomsky, are no less fundamental or significant. They include the question of our place in this society; of how we are imagined within it; and of the role we students of the historical experience and current circumstances of our various communities might play in the evolution of American society. These matters have major implications for the United States, and by extension for our hemisphere and larger world.

We find ourselves, at the beginning of the second decade of the 21st Century, deeply engaged in a battle over whose vision of society will prevail: a society defined by exclusivity or one that advocates inclusivity; a society that privileges individuality or one that values community; a society that protects advantage or one that promotes opportunity; a society marked by intolerance or one characterized by tolerance; a society that continues to judge people by the color of their skin, their cultural background, their religious beliefs, or their sexual orientation, or one that prizes them for their character.

The referent of “their America” in the title of this essay are those persons and groups who seek to maintain their historical hegemony, who believe they have the authority to define “American” values, who believe that “their American” interests trump all others, who pretend to determine who belongs and who does not, and who will go to extraordinary lengths to exclude those so deemed from being part of “their America” in the name of those supposed values or characteristics.

The various Latino communities are at the center of this struggle over who belongs, and not simply because of our growing numbers but also because of the complexity of our biological, cultural, economic, political and social makeup. We do not fit the neatly into those racial or religious or relational categories that have historically facilitated exclusion. Notwithstanding our diverse national and cultural origins, we have been constructed as a homogeneous population. Despite our different histories we are characterized as recent arrivals and undocumented immigrants. In spite of  evidence to the contrary we are imagined as monolingual in Spanish and resistant to learning English; incapable of and antagonistic to learning; unambitious and dependent on the public weal; debased and inclined to criminality.

We find ourselves at a defining moment in the evolution of this society. The U.S. is experiencing a cultural, economic, and political tectonic shift, a shift driven by demography and technology and advantage. The first shocks have already occurred.  More will follow.

The economy of the United States may stabilize over the course of the next few years, but it is not going to return to what it was at any time in the past. Most of what we used to manufacture has been shipped offshore. What manufacturing is left is increasingly produced technologically and by a smaller percentage of the population, specifically by those who possess economic and educational advantage. Over the past three decades the income of the population that identifies as middle-class has shrunk; the wages of those persons classified as blue-collar workers have diminished; and the security of employment of white-collar employees has disappeared. Moreover the U.S. may still have the largest economy on the globe, but it operates on the credit extended by Chinese bankers, and it is only a matter of time until they call in their notes.

This society has prided itself on being classless, has denied the centrality of privilege, has advanced a master narrative that individuals and not society create opportunity and that education and ambition trump advantage when it comes to socio-economic mobility. Yet even Charles Murray, author of The Bell Curve, who a decade ago declared us as intellectually deficient, is telling us these days that we are now a highly classist society. He calls it a cultural divide rather than a class divide, but Murray does not shrink away from the fact that the divide is the result of advantage, particularly educational advantage. Neither race nor ethnicity nor gender, Murray argues, but rather cultural values and the advantage those values provide drive the great societal divide, separate the 1% from the 99%, or the 53% from the 47%.

The United States is in political retreat globally. The feckless policies of the neo-conservatives enmeshed us in the longest and most expensive wars in our history, and these policies have ironically fomented a protectionist society, a new iteration of “Fortress America.” The nation that called on the Soviet Union to tear down the walls that encased it is itself feverishly constructing literal and virtual walls.  They may be designed to keep people out rather than in, to be sure, but they are walls nonetheless.

This protectionism is manifesting itself domestically in the criminalization of immigrants; in the incarceration of minority youth and young adults; in the disenfranchisement of citizens of color; in the denial of the protections guaranteed by the Bill of Rights and the Constitution; in the privatization of opportunity; and in a hyper-nationalism marked by racial, religious and cultural resentment.

The Portents for Latinos

What are then the portents for our diverse and extended Latino communities? What are the indications or signals or markers of what is to come? The ones cited above are self-evident (de cajón, as we say). Less evident, but no less significant portents are the following, contradictory as some may seem:

*continuing cultural integration, if of a nefarious kind; and
Ÿ*increased electoral participation, but not truly representative of our interests or proportional to our numbers;

Not as evident to all, yet truly troubling in the long run are

Ÿ* aggressive de-legitimization of our standing, of our interests, of our needs, and of our concerns; and
Ÿ*denial of our historical relationship to this society and nation.

At the center of any discussion of the portents for our community are, of course, its demographics. We are a youthful and growing population and that has major implications for American society. Young people can do something that old people can’t: reproduce themselves. Our numbers will continue to grow even as “their” numbers will diminish and, as the majority population grows older it will more and more require our services and support.

Our youthfulness, however, is double-edged. Youth does have its drawbacks. A young
population has not had time to accumulate either intellectual or material capital.  A significant number of the young can’t vote, either because of their age or their civic status. Others are not inclined to vote. Further, a young and therefore inexperienced population is susceptible to the siren calls of hyper-patriotism, self-indulgence, and selfish individualism.

If this society wishes to be stable and prosperous, it will have to educate and integrate the population that constitutes its future wellbeing. Not only are the stakes considerably higher than in the past, but in addition the circumstances have changed. Since labor-intensive production has been shipped off-shore the only production that can replace it requires higher level intellectual skills, greater technological aptness, and constant learning. And this nation has fallen behind in that regard. Our 25-45 age population has less educational attainment than their 45-65 old counterparts. Only the education of the 15-25 old population can turn that around, and we have reasons to be concerned about that matter.

In prior moments in this society social and economic integration was fundamentally achieved by subjecting new members of the society to an educational process shared by all: public education. Our public educational system, however, is under attack.  Social conservatives are openly antagonistic to public education and would replace it with instructional programs that are values-based, ideologically-driven, and antagonistic to inquiry.  Economic conservatives blame teachers and their unions for all that is wrong with our educational system and would substitute for it privately-run, profit-making educational programs that have workplace preparation and socialization as their primary goal. In both cases they call for delivery systems that are de-centralized and un-regulated. These two thrusts inevitably reinforce the divisions that are manifesting themselves in our society, are increasing the divide between the “haves” and the “have-nots”, are fueling antagonism towards the 47%; are fomenting cultural, economic and social apartheid.

Following World War II, post-secondary education contributed not only towards greater
social integration but also as a driver of social mobility, and thus a public good.  By the end of the 20th Century post-secondary education, however, had become conceptualized as a private good, and thus increasingly commoditized by both private not-for-profit and public colleges and universities, subsequently monetized by the private for-profit sector, and ultimately marketed as requisite to upward economic mobility by all sectors.

When pre-collegiate education ceases to be understood as being in the public interest and post-secondary education is defined as a private good, the persons who will profit most will be those with the greatest advantage. They will be able to choose the schools to which they will send their children, will be able to assure that they receive a high-quality education, which will in turn provide their off-spring access to the elite higher education, which of course they can afford. The rest of the population will have to make do with what options they will have as a result of the defunding of education, whether pre-secondary, secondary, or post-secondary.  The future portends more of such. Want an education but can’t afford it? Win a scholarship!  Get a job! Secure a loan! Borrow the money from your parents!!!

In 2009 I participated in a panel discussion on the status and future of Latinos in American society held at the Fourth Annual Conference of the American Association of Hispanics in Higher Education. In closing the session, the moderator, Henry Cisneros, asked the participants: If you had opportunity to address the American public, what would you say? My answer was: “We are your neighbors, we are your fellow workers, we are members of your churches, we are or will soon be your in-laws, we fight your wars, and we are your future.”

In retrospect, my statement may have overreached. To be sure, there is considerable social integration occurring in the workforce, but it is principally at the lower levels of the economy. Most Latinos, however, work alongside other Latinos in low-income occupations. Few work with more than one peer in professional or in mid-level managerial environments. And Latinos remain one and onlys at the upper levels of the professional, managerial or director classes.

Latinos do constitute a large and growing percentage of church membership, in large measure because of the fall-off in church membership in the general population.  But not unlike what is the case in the areas of education, employment, and housing, Latino church membership is highly segregated.

Induction into the military resulted in considerable social integration of Latinos during much of the 20th Century. We do currently constitute a percentage of the military that is somewhat disproportionate to our population size. However the elimination of the draft system and the creation of a “volunteer” military have diminished that process, notwithstanding reports that the military may be the most highly integrated sector of American society.

A very clear potent of the future and an area in which I probably didn’t overreach, however, is the cultural integration of the younger generations. There is considerable intermingling and not-inconsiderable intermarriage. It is an integration that is driven by the media, probably the principal social integrative mode at this point in our history. As historically been the case, the young take on the cultural expression of the majority society.

The media’s role, however, is double-edged. As it eliminates some boundaries, it reinforces others. Unlike the case in previous generations, young Latinos do see themselves sometimes reflected in the mainstream media’s representation of larger society, and to some extent in entertainment realm. Moreover the growth and evolution of Spanish language media, which has reinforced the cultural expression of their elders, has also provided venues for Spanish language artists whose audience, though youthful, has deep roots in regional or national expression. But it is a shallow and mindless cultural integration, driven as it is by consumerism. And worse, informed by a false consciousness: on the one hand, that one can belong if only one subscribes to the values and expression of the reigning hegemony; or on the other, that one can exist separate from and independent of the core culture, if marginal to it.

The portents for our economic status are of course tied to those of the larger society.  Those among us with privilege will join the 1%; those of us who are able to secure some advantage will become part of the 52%. Those who cannot heroically supersede the defunding of the public good will inevitably be consigned to making do on the margins, or depending on a leaner, meaner private (no longer public) weal, or wasting away in a penal institution.

Meanwhile the two primary political parties of this nation are vying to determine which can alienate Latinos the most, whether by dismissing, marginalizing, de-enfranchising, criminalizing, incarcerating, or deporting members of our community. Republicans believe that the worthy among us share their values; Democrats believe they are the default mode for the rest of us. In both cases our presence in those parties is still 0more symbolic than substantive.

While our demographic primacy may be inevitable, our political ascendency is not.  We have not been able to develop common interests or common goals and we lack strategies for developing such and for engaging our communities in pursuing them. Our increased electoral numbers and participation will be of little or no consequence unless we develop common purpose.

Challenges, Goals, and Possibilities

Given the circumstances and the portents described above, how should we respond?  What might be our objectives? What must we do? What might we do? What can we do?

Most of challenges to our wellbeing posed by our status and circumstances are different in degree but not in kind from those of other American populations. To be sure other populations share our experience of social segregation, cultural denigration, civic alienation and political marginality. What makes our situation different from that of other population sectors are our numbers and the multiple complexities that inform those numbers. Our demographic make-up will increasingly define this society. Our already considerable numbers and the youth of our population will have considerable impact on its institutions.

Unlike any other American population, we represent a significant threat to a hegemony that was initiated almost four hundred years ago on the eastern seaboard of this nation and that for the past two centuries has extended through the hemisphere.  The question before us is what kind of society and nation we will have: theirs or ours; an exclusive one or an inclusive one; a society informed by justice and opportunity or one marked indelibly by privilege?  The challenge before us is to offer a different vision from the reigning one and to realize that vision.

We are not, however, a homogeneous population and that heterogeneity carries with it major socio-cultural complications and has major political implications. How do we battle against exclusion and for inclusion if we are scattered and divided?  How do we exert the necessary political influence if we are fragmented? Our fundamental challenge, our foremost objective, is to find the commonalities we have as Latinos.

There is much that makes us different, and there are powerful forces at work to divide us. Thus the necessity to identify the interests we have, the concerns we share, the aspirations we hold, the realities we experience so that we can begin to develop common goals, common purposes, and common objectives. Bringing us together must become a central and driving objective.

What must we do?

First and foremost, we must continue to affirm our place in this nation.

Second, we must continue to carve out larger and more significant spaces for ourselves in this society and its institutions. Third, we must revitalize the ideals of this nation.

We have a profound claim on this nation, one that goes back to the pre-Columbian history of the Americas. Our ancestors—whether of African, Asian, European, or indigenous origin—occupied it, settled it, developed it, and enriched it. The consolidation of the nation was realized by a war against Mexico and its imperial reach by the war against Spain. Those wars incorporated us into the nation if not into its society. The 20th Century was marked by our fight against de jure exclusion from its institutions. At the beginning of the 21st Century, despite signal victories in that struggle, de facto exclusion continues and de jure exclusion looms once again.

The nation’s economic needs may blunt both types of exclusion, but societal anxieties and fear of the other will continue to drive its political dynamics. Economic protectionism may no longer be possible, but political, social and cultural protectionism is manifesting itself aggressively. It has served the nation’s purposes historically to imagine us as the poor, uneducated, illiterate, debased other in order to justify exclusion and exploitation. It currently serves the purposes of sectors of this society to imagine us as being “illegal,” as having no documents or questionable documents, of having no legitimate claim to membership in the society.

Thus the importance of affirming our rights as members of this society, of assuring that its protections extend to us, of staking claim to its benefits, of marking our historical presence in the establishment of this nation and our centrality to its future; and of taking ownership of its institutions. It is our responsibility as the educated and the educators to do so on behalf of our entire community, but in particular for those who are most vulnerable to attack.

Although it behooves us to continue to lay claim to the larger societal and institutional spaces, let us not be fooled by the bones we have been tossed or the lip service to which we are subjected. A canapé at a reception does not a banquet make; a patch of scrub oak does not a forest constitute; an occasional award does not confer worth, value or respect. We need to become constituent components of this society and its institutions, not marginal appendages. We need the public acknowledgement that our accomplishments merit, rather than token recognition given grudgingly.

We have, over the course of our history in this society and nation, found it necessary to create our own institutions and organizations because we were denied the benefits, the advantages, and the protections of “theirs.” In so doing we preserved and promoted our artistic and cultural expression, affirmed the legitimacy of our needs and concerns, and developed the intellectual wherewithal to defend and advance our interests.  These entities continue to be as essential in the present as they have been in the past, and it behooves us to nurture and strengthen them.

It is in our interests to advocate for and seek to revitalize the ideals of this society: liberty, justice, and freedom.  Liberty, in the sense of opportunity for all.  Justice, in the sense of equal protection under the law for all and not just for the few.   Freedom, to which much lip service but little substance is given: freedom with respect to movement, to speech, to religious worship, to artistic and cultural expression; freedom of expression and of assembly; and freedom from want, from fear, from exclusion, from incarceration, and from deportation.

To do so we will have to continue to seek ways of defining ourselves as an integral community, as a population with shared goals and points of agreement. Our diversity, whether cultural or social or political or economic, makes that integrative process a challenging one.  Notwithstanding, constituting ourselves as such is still central and essential to our future. Not doing so will make it difficult to secure our rights, to advance our interests, to empower our population, and to provide a desirable future for our children and grandchildren. Unless we do so the most advantaged among us will simply end up becoming part of the 1% or of the 52%, whether as collaborators, accommodationists or oppositionists. If we do not act the bulk of our population will run the risk of forever being characterized and dismissed as a client population, as dependent, as opposed to being considered contributing members of the society, as takers rather than givers.

The Responsibility of Intellectuals

Finally, what can we, as academics and intellectuals, do? We must take up our responsibilities
as persons with the stature and armature required to challenge entrenched power, and the modes and money that support it: that is, as a community of scholars who are able to analyze the basis of power; who have the authority to expose its contradictions and weaknesses; who can identify and respond to conceptualizations and discourses that delimit, dismiss, or denigrate us; who have the standing to speak truth to power as well as the venues from where to do so; and who can identify our commonalities and develop ways and means to address them.

Addressing that challenge and meeting that objective are difficult undertakings, but is it not complexity that drives us as intellectuals? Is it not our métier as academics to seek out the complexities that inform apparently simple matters?  Are we not scholars trained to address complexity? Is it not our intellectual purpose to seek out the answer, the solution, the key to complex problems? Is it not our charge when faced with complexity to break it down into its constituent parts and give it clarity?

The poet Julio Marzán, one of our numbers, has a poem titled “The Pure Preposition,” in which he describes the awesome responsibility of that modest grammatical particle: “Their absence or much too presence re/Minding us that our labor is a product of  small parts:/ With, by, for, in, on, against.” Like the lowly preposition we academics, scholars, intellectuals, says the distinguished Puerto Rican scholar, Roberto Márquez, “must do the heavy lifting.”

We who have benefitted from prior struggles, who have not succumbed to denigration, who have superseded the structural barriers placed before us, who have not been daunted by exclusionary discourse or requirements, who have standing in a central institution of the society, have the responsibility to take up these challenges.  And in the process lay the foundation for our América, an inclusive and vital América, an América whose spirit and values extend beyond its political borders.

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Dr. Arturo Madrid is the Norine R. and T. Frank Murchison Distinguished Professor of the Humanities at Trinity University and the recipient of the Charles Frankel Prize in the Humanities in 1996, awarded by the National Endowment of the Humanities.  Prior to joining the faculty of Trinity University in 1993, Madrid served as the founding president of the Tomás Rivera Center, the nation’s first institute for policy studies on Latino issues, a position he held from 1984 to 1993. In addition to having held academic and administrative appointments at Dartmouth College, The University of California, San Diego, and the University of Minnesota, he has also served as Director of the Fund for the Improvement of Post-Secondary Education (FIPSE) as well as National Director of the Ford Foundation’s Graduate Fellowship Program for Mexican Americans, Native Americans and Puerto Ricans. He can be reached at Amadrid@Trinity.edu [mailto:Amadrid@Trinity.edu].

La Bloga, a literary blog showcasing Chicana/o and Latina/o literary expressions, was founded in 2004 by Rudy García, Manuel Ramos and Michael Sedano. Eight years later, it continues as a beacon for Latino literature and culture–but now with ten bloquistas! Latinopia asked Michael Sedano, co-founder and the driving force behind the blogsite, how La Bloga came about.

Colors

This scene caught my attention on a very bright day in Los Angeles. Not really sunny…just clear and freshness in the air. And of course, the colors at the entrance to Chinatown.

Continuing from my Instagram series (http://instagram.com/amosart).

At the Famous Farmers Market

For those of us who grew-up and live in Los Angeles, the old Farmers Market in the Fairfax area has a soft spot in our hearts. It is now surrounded by bigger and fancier stores, but if you look—you can still find some simplicity in the place.

Continuing from my Instagram series (http://instagram.com/amosart).

The Palms and Union Station

When people think of SoCal, it’s palm trees and sun. With this shot, I had a little fun, by using a filter that gave it an old feel of days gone by. When a lot of traveling was done by trains. In this shot I hope you as the viewer can use your imagination of what’s going on inside the building.

Continuing from my Instagram series (http://instagram.com/amosart).

First and Boyle

This corner in the Boyle Heights area as always been a special hub for community activities. But on this day, it was just a nice quite drive through.

Continuing from my Instagram series (http://instagram.com/amosart).

A Sunset

Sometimes all you can say is, WOW!

Continuing from my Instagram series (http://instagram.com/amosart).