Dearest Brothers and Sisters in Solidarity with El Movimiento,
First, on behalf of MEChA de Vassar I extend my deepest and most heartfelt greetings. I hope that you all find yourself well and fighting oppression on every front possible. It is my great pleasure to inform you of the recent activities of MEChA de Vassar. I think the ideal place to begin is in mid April when Latinos and Latinas claiming their rights to live in the United States and work here without any problem had already reached headlines nationwide. In Poughkeepsie, the city right outside of Vassar College, youth from the High School walked out of school and marched to the city Post Office. It was undeniable: the momentum was building for the uprising on May 1st.Although it was certainly the responsibility of students to participate, we felt that we could not lead the march, much less decide to march, unless the risks involved in missing work on the day of the Great American Boycott were assessed by El Pueblo, not sympathizers in privileged positions.
I came in contact with a Vassar alumna who was working with a couple of community organizations and several city residents. She asked me to gather concerned students and invite them to Los Compadres, one of the best Mexican restaurants in the city. A meeting was scheduled for area Latin@s to decide whether they wanted to participate in the boycott and join the march. Gathering dedicated students was basically done; plenty of students identified with the cause so all I had to do was extend the invitation. Much more planning came after this meeting. Completing the bureaucratic process was probably the hardest part although indirect intimidation by the Poughkeepsie pigs was a close second. We visited businesses in Poughkeepsie and adjacent to the city after the NY State Attorney General stated that participation could not be discouraged by employers and on the night before we made several signs and banners. After much mental preparation we were ready to march in unison with the beautiful people of Poughkeepsie.
To begin with, we slowly gathered on the library lawn; at first a handful then 100 and finally 500 strong. Vassar students marched down Main Street as El Pueblo joined the march or watched from street corners and apartment windows. The amount of participation was intense and it was something that would later get the alum I spoke with in trouble for organizing an “illegal march” from Vassar to Warayas Park (a lovely park right on the Hudson River and the site of the rally at the end of the march). At Warayas Park the people of Poughkeepsie sang and spoke including Light Carruyo, an incredible professor at Vassar, as well as myself. The rally was a great success; it has been said that it was the largest march in Poughkeepsie's history.
As is probably a fact for most schools of higher education, May is the month when everything is winding down. After May first, several students continued their participation in political and social activism. David Mata, Isella Ramirez, and I spent our summer working as Community Fellows – a Vassar internship position in which students work with non-profit organizations or other public institutions. Yuridiana Rojas held a position in Los Angeles where she assessed and developed after school programs.
On the second day of the Community Fellowship, David Mata invited me to attend Farm Worker Advocacy Day in Albany, NY with him, the Rural and Migrant Ministry (RMM), and the Youth Arts Group (YAG). Sadly, this year there were no farm workers present. At a rally held at a church in solidarity with the cause, we learned that despite the great efforts of scores of people nation wide, undocumented farm workers are still particularly at risk of being in public in New York. Apparently, a law which was intended to quickly deport undocumented workers 100 miles within the US-Mexico boundary is being used to monitor 100 miles within the US-Canada boundary. People are being detained and deported after leaving churches, parties, and even work. There was a report of one active member of el Centro Independiente de Trabajadores Agrícolas (CITA) was detained and deported over night before Farm Worker Advocacy Day. YAG performed at the rally and several members of CITA spoke in order to get us pumped for the day’s events. After the rally we passed out handbills denouncing the lack of farm worker rights and made some serious noise in the middle of Albany. It was incredible to chant and protest with such knowledgeable and dedicated youth.
Saying goodbye to the summer was really tough but upon returning to school MEChA de Vassar got right back to revolutionary business. We met many students at the African American/Black, Latin@, Asian/Asian American, Native American (ALANA) Center’s New Student Reception. After that we thought that to start the year off right we thought it would be best to attract particular students by offering them what people love most: GOOD FOOD. MEChistas put together beautiful handmade invitations which we delivered to the rooms of a list of freshman Latin@s. These fine folk had the opportunity to eat food barbequed to perfection, and we certainly got some of them hook, line, and sinker. Many of these future MEChistas had heard about us at an activities fair the week before where we signed up many interested students and heavily pushed for community involvement with youth at local schools, talked about ECCSF conferences, and other past endeavors.
On September 11, 2006, MEChA de Vassar’s exec board members had the pleasure of meeting Reverend John Fife – a long time activist for civil rights. This was a great opportunity because over the last two and a half decades Reverend Fife has seen the US-Mexico boundary go through many changes and he has actively opposed and subverted unjust laws and conditions at this historically intense geo-political location. During the 1980s, Reverend Fife was a major mover and shaker of the Sanctuary Movement in the southwest which aided many Latin Americans – especially those fleeing political persecution and war in Central America - to cross the border. Many Salvadorans are very familiar with a direct result from this movement after a Supreme Court case: Temporary Protected Status (TPS).
Since the passage of NAFTA, Reverend Fife and brothers and sisters in solidarity have been active in aiding people at the boundary by setting up and maintaining several water stations in the desert. More recently he has also been involved in the No More Deaths Campaign, a multi-faith coalition which was formed in March 2004. This campaign provides water, food, medical assistance, boundary monitoring and is active in public awareness of the migrant situation. Last fall, MEChA de Vassar mobilized hundreds of students campus-wide to sign petitions and send letters to U.S. District Judge Raner Collins so he would dismiss felony charges against Shanti Sellz and Daniel Strauss, two volunteers who gave medical attention to dehydrating migrants on the verge of death. On September 1st, 2006, the charges were dismissed.
Recently, we participated in the annual Arlington Street fair where we sold Nachos and Cheese as well as some bangin’ Arroz en Leche. This was done in collaboration with Poder Latino, another student movement group fighting for justice on campus and beyond. Before our October Break we held an incredible meeting and an excellent event on a double-whammy Thursday. First, we introduced the concept of Aztlan and the basic foundations of MEChA to our new members. Of course, this is fundamental to the growth and understanding of La Causa and I was proud to be a short part of this process. I really hope that many more people who are fighting for human rights can learn this great history because it is certainly a moving tale which makes it irresistible to combat assimilation, conquest, capitalism, patriarchy, white supremacy and so many other forms of oppression. After this meeting, we screened La Bamba, and everyone who has seen this movie knows that there is nothing more fundamental about life as a Latin@ than this film ;-).
This is my report for now but I am sure that there is more to come. So far, this year has been quiet in terms of heavy and hardcore activism on campus but I eagerly wait for the moment in which we stand up to continue carving out the space for all who oppose the dominance of the white supremacist capitalist patriarchy. I can’t give away any plans but who knows what surprises are in store for the future? Nevertheless, I am more excited about what we can all do together after this ECCSF conference. Perhaps this year we can find a way to network and organize to the point where we subvert capitalism in each of our communities and establish spaces which welcome all people without regard to who they are on face but only their dedication towards a better tomorrow. That is truly revolutionary.
Hasta la Victoria Siempre,
Victor Monterrosa, Jr.
MEChA de Vassar Co-President 06
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Touring the Line: Fabens to Zaragosa - Photo Essay - Mikey Velarde, MEChA de Vassar
Touring the Line: Fabens to Zaragoza
By: Mikey Velarde
EL PASO, TX
*Originally published in Newspaper Tree 8.21.2006 (www.newspapertree.com)
By: Mikey Velarde
EL PASO, TX
*Originally published in Newspaper Tree 8.21.2006 (www.newspapertree.com)
Performance by Josefina Baez kicks off Hispanic Heritage Month - Janet Mendoza, Nosotras, Smith College
Last week Nosotras collaborated with the Office of Multicultural Affairs with its first event of the year that correlated with Hispanic Heritage Month. Josefina Baez, a writer, performer, teacher, and director, was invited to share with us her work. At the event there was delicious Dominican food and a speech and video performance from Josefina Baez.
Performance by Josefina Baez kicks off Hispanic Heritage Month
By: Janet Mendoza
I enjoyed watching her multi-themed performance because I had never seen anything like it. Her performance varied and it was up to the audience to interpret it. I was able to conclude that she wanted to convey through her art the experiences she has encountered as a black Dominican woman.
The few times that I was able to talk to her, I realized how remarkable this woman really is. She is an avid performer of poetry and various forms of dance. Her work has reached many continents and touched thousands. She is passionate about her work and cares about the impact that her work can make in at least one persons’ life. That evening she was able to accomplish just that as a Smithie came up to her crying, telling her that her speech and performance had touched her in an unexpected way.
*Excerpt from Smith College's Voces Unidas, Volume 25, Issue 1, Oct. 2006.
Performance by Josefina Baez kicks off Hispanic Heritage Month
By: Janet Mendoza
I enjoyed watching her multi-themed performance because I had never seen anything like it. Her performance varied and it was up to the audience to interpret it. I was able to conclude that she wanted to convey through her art the experiences she has encountered as a black Dominican woman.
The few times that I was able to talk to her, I realized how remarkable this woman really is. She is an avid performer of poetry and various forms of dance. Her work has reached many continents and touched thousands. She is passionate about her work and cares about the impact that her work can make in at least one persons’ life. That evening she was able to accomplish just that as a Smithie came up to her crying, telling her that her speech and performance had touched her in an unexpected way.
*Excerpt from Smith College's Voces Unidas, Volume 25, Issue 1, Oct. 2006.
Essay - Justine Gonzalez, Nosotras, Smith College
Essay
By: Justine Gonzalez
Mi nombre: Justine Gonzalez. No es Justina ni es Justin. Justina es el nombre que mi madre usaba cuando me gritaba en español; Justin es el nombre de un muchacho americano. ¿No se puede traducir mi nombre sin cambiar su significado—así como mi identidad. No soy hispana pero tampoco soy americana. Cuando era más joven le decía a la gente que mi segundo nombre era María porque creía que María era más latina de mi propio nombre. Estoy buscando constantemente un sitio donde pertenecer.
Viví en Nueva York toda mi vida. Allí hay mucha diversidad… muchos Latinos. Hay un sentimiento común de crear una identidad americana. Los que vienen de Puerto Rico, en vez de distinguirse como puertorriqueños, se identifican come “Nuyoricans”. Si yo tuviera que identificarme, me identificaría “Nuyoriqueña” y me identificaría con la lengua de “Spanglish”.
Mis padres no me hablaban en español regularmente, pero a veces sí. Mi abuela fue la única persona que siempre trató de hablarme en español, para enseñarme la lengua. Recuerdo algunos momentos en su cocina chiquita, cuando me cocinaba avena o arroz y me cantaba en español. La única canción que recuerdo es la canción, “pollito-chicken”. Esta canción traduce algunas palabras de español al inglés. Creo que el hecho de que no puedo recordar otras canciones es importante, porque significa que mis memorias, mi ser, no puede existir sin estas dos lenguas juntas.
A veces me daba vergüenza decir que soy puertorriqueña porque, ¿cómo puedo identificarme así sin saber la lengua? También, cuando visité a mi familia en Puerto Rico, ellos me recharzaron: me llamaban “la Gringa”. En la escuela, mis compañeros asumían que yo sabía español, y cuando me pedían que traduciera algo y no podía, yo tenía que tragarme mi orgullo y explicar que no sabía, no más para recibir la pregunta: “pero no eres hispana?”
Siempre he sentido que tenía que compensar por mis faltas con el idioma con otros aspectos de la cultura. A pesar de la lengua, sí soy puertorriqueña. Soy una salsera, soy una cocinera, soy una poeta, soy una historiadora. El problema eternal: debiera identificarme como la gente me ve, o como yo misma me identifico?
*Excerpt from Smith College's Voces Unidas, Volume 25, Issue 1, Oct. 2006.
By: Justine Gonzalez
Mi nombre: Justine Gonzalez. No es Justina ni es Justin. Justina es el nombre que mi madre usaba cuando me gritaba en español; Justin es el nombre de un muchacho americano. ¿No se puede traducir mi nombre sin cambiar su significado—así como mi identidad. No soy hispana pero tampoco soy americana. Cuando era más joven le decía a la gente que mi segundo nombre era María porque creía que María era más latina de mi propio nombre. Estoy buscando constantemente un sitio donde pertenecer.
Viví en Nueva York toda mi vida. Allí hay mucha diversidad… muchos Latinos. Hay un sentimiento común de crear una identidad americana. Los que vienen de Puerto Rico, en vez de distinguirse como puertorriqueños, se identifican come “Nuyoricans”. Si yo tuviera que identificarme, me identificaría “Nuyoriqueña” y me identificaría con la lengua de “Spanglish”.
Mis padres no me hablaban en español regularmente, pero a veces sí. Mi abuela fue la única persona que siempre trató de hablarme en español, para enseñarme la lengua. Recuerdo algunos momentos en su cocina chiquita, cuando me cocinaba avena o arroz y me cantaba en español. La única canción que recuerdo es la canción, “pollito-chicken”. Esta canción traduce algunas palabras de español al inglés. Creo que el hecho de que no puedo recordar otras canciones es importante, porque significa que mis memorias, mi ser, no puede existir sin estas dos lenguas juntas.
A veces me daba vergüenza decir que soy puertorriqueña porque, ¿cómo puedo identificarme así sin saber la lengua? También, cuando visité a mi familia en Puerto Rico, ellos me recharzaron: me llamaban “la Gringa”. En la escuela, mis compañeros asumían que yo sabía español, y cuando me pedían que traduciera algo y no podía, yo tenía que tragarme mi orgullo y explicar que no sabía, no más para recibir la pregunta: “pero no eres hispana?”
Siempre he sentido que tenía que compensar por mis faltas con el idioma con otros aspectos de la cultura. A pesar de la lengua, sí soy puertorriqueña. Soy una salsera, soy una cocinera, soy una poeta, soy una historiadora. El problema eternal: debiera identificarme como la gente me ve, o como yo misma me identifico?
*Excerpt from Smith College's Voces Unidas, Volume 25, Issue 1, Oct. 2006.
Letter from a Lost Mexican - Nicole Diaz, Nosotras, Smith College
Letter from a Lost Mexican
By: Nicole Diaz
I am from mamá, papá, mis abuelos, tíos y primos.
I am from backyard barbecues, fajitas, tortillas, frijoles, and kids
running wild.
I am from New Years with the family playing chalupa and dominós.
I am from "Yes Sir" and "No Ma'am".
I am from respect your elders and don't talk back.
I am from early Sunday morning services.
I am from enchiladas, carne guisada, and calabacita.
I am from tamaladas.
I am from drinking chocolate mexicano with Nana.
I am from hot summers, la venta, and raspas.
I am from loud guitarra music and spicy mole.
I am from the swaying hips of salsa and passion.
I am from barking dogs, clucking chickens, and stampeding cows.
I am from el rancho.
I am from backwoods driving and vacations in the hill country.
I am from Texas – but here is my home.
Written at the end of her first year at Smith College.
*Excerpt from Smith College's Voces Unidas, Volume 25, Issue 1, Oct. 2006.*
By: Nicole Diaz
I am from mamá, papá, mis abuelos, tíos y primos.
I am from backyard barbecues, fajitas, tortillas, frijoles, and kids
running wild.
I am from New Years with the family playing chalupa and dominós.
I am from "Yes Sir" and "No Ma'am".
I am from respect your elders and don't talk back.
I am from early Sunday morning services.
I am from enchiladas, carne guisada, and calabacita.
I am from tamaladas.
I am from drinking chocolate mexicano with Nana.
I am from hot summers, la venta, and raspas.
I am from loud guitarra music and spicy mole.
I am from the swaying hips of salsa and passion.
I am from barking dogs, clucking chickens, and stampeding cows.
I am from el rancho.
I am from backwoods driving and vacations in the hill country.
I am from Texas – but here is my home.
Written at the end of her first year at Smith College.
*Excerpt from Smith College's Voces Unidas, Volume 25, Issue 1, Oct. 2006.*
Recognize Me - Melissa Campos, MEChA de Yale
Recognize MeBy: Melissa Campos
I want to write my own narrative.
I've always wanted to write it. Now, I am fully aware that I can.
But, first, I have to ask myself: If I’m writing my own story, who am I?
I am Chicana.
I am proud of my ancestors, I am proud of my peers, and I am proud of who will carry on my legacy. I care a little more about things that many don’t even consider to change. I recognize the power of people and of organization.
I recognize myself.
Just three years ago, I didn't imagine myself doing what I'm doing now, much less calling myself Chicana.
What changed me? Nothing. I discovered what has always been present.
Being Chicana is not a change--it is recognition. It is the recognition that society has failed to give those who have come before us; it is the recognition of injustices of our society; it is the recognition of needing change; and it is the recognition we demand for ourselves and our issues.
In high school, I thought community service simply meant helping out in hospitals and giving food to the homeless. Now, I realize that community service also means empowering others and improving conditions for everyone. It means that you make an impact on single individual not only by providing for their physical well-being, but also improving, directly or indirectly, their social and political situation.
In essence, community service is social justice. You help bring others the resources, whether it is education, food, shelter, or healthcare, that they have been denied. And, through these measures, you empower them and aid them in rising out of the poverty, out of the lack of education, and out of the obstacles that propagate subjugation.
Can you see? I have always been Chicana, in action and in name.
This acknowledgment and recognition is crucial to gaining agency. There is no future for me without a sense of awareness of the person I am, of the people that surround me, and of the situation I live in.
There is no future without my own narrative.
Now, I am making my own future.
*Photograph Angelina Calderon, MEChA de Yale
Latinos Unidos - Mayra Macias, MEChA de Yale
Latinos Unidos
By: Mayra Macías
Latinos Unidos jamás serán vencidos
A people united shall never be divided
I hear the chants of thousands forged into one
Creating a stronghold that shall not be undone
Together united for a common goal
Surpassing any differences our surfaces may show
Yet once again the moment’s gone we forget solidarity
Thinking that that’s it; I’ve done enough charity
And off we go again with our daily lives
Some killing their Latino brothers just for some dimes
At this moment now, our chant holds no truth
I’m Latino, your Latino and I’m killing you
I cock the gun and pull the trigger just for some colors
To represent my hood, I’ll kill my own brothers
To defend my street which is government’s property
But in the end it all makes sense, for I’m a product of hatred
The same people that destroyed my past helped create me
My whole identity has been shaped by those who know what’s best
By those who killed the Aztecs and gave the Mayans a rest
Simply because Quetzalcoatl’s lesser than God
And with that said Christians left us with crosses and raped our moms
They told them they were sinners and broke their self-esteem
It’s much easier to pacify them when they don’t see you as a fiend
Oh, the injustices continue as you may well know
Cali and Texas were stolen from Mexico
Fast forward to the future and what have we here
Undocumented immigrants accused of committing felonies
We must take this opportunity to show solidarity
Cuz despite the difference of our skin…we’re all a family
*Poem inspired by an immigrant march in Chicago
By: Mayra Macías
Latinos Unidos jamás serán vencidos
A people united shall never be divided
I hear the chants of thousands forged into one
Creating a stronghold that shall not be undone
Together united for a common goal
Surpassing any differences our surfaces may show
Yet once again the moment’s gone we forget solidarity
Thinking that that’s it; I’ve done enough charity
And off we go again with our daily lives
Some killing their Latino brothers just for some dimes
At this moment now, our chant holds no truth
I’m Latino, your Latino and I’m killing you
I cock the gun and pull the trigger just for some colors
To represent my hood, I’ll kill my own brothers
To defend my street which is government’s property
But in the end it all makes sense, for I’m a product of hatred
The same people that destroyed my past helped create me
My whole identity has been shaped by those who know what’s best
By those who killed the Aztecs and gave the Mayans a rest
Simply because Quetzalcoatl’s lesser than God
And with that said Christians left us with crosses and raped our moms
They told them they were sinners and broke their self-esteem
It’s much easier to pacify them when they don’t see you as a fiend
Oh, the injustices continue as you may well know
Cali and Texas were stolen from Mexico
Fast forward to the future and what have we here
Undocumented immigrants accused of committing felonies
We must take this opportunity to show solidarity
Cuz despite the difference of our skin…we’re all a family
*Poem inspired by an immigrant march in Chicago
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