Monday, April 03, 2006

La raza unida jamas sera vencida

About seventy five percent of undocumented immigrants are Latinos … mi hermanos antes los ojos de dios, from all over the world. They speak in my mother tongue. If I listen carefully I can tell where they are from by their accents. They hail from countries I’ve only read about in books, but still they are my brothers and sisters. They come from countries portrayed on television as paradise on earth beckoning to tourists...from countries devastated by poverty, by natural disasters… they lived hand to mouth or afraid of their government they risk it all to come here.

I see them on street corners all over New York City waiting to be picked for jobs.They begin their wait before the sun has had a chance to awaken the sky. Some never make it home losing their lives on dangerous jobs...some never get paid after working those jobs. They suffer in silence afraid to complain. I look into their eyes and see the eyes of my ancestors. Their bodies are exhausted from hard work, souls battered by demeaning conditions. Pero siempre, always their heads held high. They are a proud people. I see them on the crowded subways and streets selling their wares … they chauffer me around the city in their gypsy cabs and dollar vans…in the restaurants I frequent they wash the dishes, bus the tables, prep and serve the food. They clean the offices, take care of the children, and are the backbone of agriculture. Odds are good that the oranges used to make your morning orange juice was picked by illegals. That boneless chicken in your fast food chain sandwich was de-boned by an illegal at a poultry factory. The profit margin of many a businessman depends on the sweat of the undocumented. To say that they do the work that Americans refuse to do is wrong because it is a lie, that’s an insult to the American work ethic. What is true is that illegals work for less and are often exploited by employers because of their illegal status.


In their eyes I see mis antepasados the ones who left all that was familiar to come into a new land where they were not always welcomed but they took it all just for the chance at a better life for their children and their grandchildren…immigrants past and present reaching for the American dream…no hay diferencia..there is no difference between the illegals and my ancestors… they are among the bravest people that have walked this earth los llevos clavados en mi alma…I owe them so much…

After taking a couple of semesters of law my Immigration Law professor convinced me to do some volunteer work at a legal clinic he runs. It was there that my interest in the undocumented began, fanned by my father’s own work with the undocumented. I often stop to talk to them as I make my way across my city handing them the business cards of the place I volunteer in. A place where they can get free legal advice, and help with their immigration papers… promising I will be there to help them fill out their paperwork. If they don’t have jobs I give them my father’s business card he will help find them jobs in places where they will be treated fairly. For the young ones I offer assistance in getting them into school getting them what they need for them to be better able to pursue their dreams.

Their faces light up when I tell them I am a student, that I was born here..that my great-grandparents were immigrants too. To them I a Latina pursuing a higher education am the embodiment of their dream, this is what they want for their children for themselves. They Always they ask , “que estas estudiando mija?” what are you studying? The older ones offer me advice stay in school make your people proud, you are our future. “Gracias”, I say…”Que dios te bendiga mija”…may God bless you my child…they reply.

Over the past few weeks as this issue has been debated heatedly among the politicos I’ve heard the hard work of my Mexican brothers and sisters being denigrated comparing them to terrorists, calling them criminals. There are few communities in the U.S. that work harder at lower pay and in worse conditions than the Mexican community. Case in point they’ve been immortalized in ghetto slang “working like a Mexican” to any urban kid means working harder than hard , it means busting your ass at whatever task your endeavoring. They put up with all of this crap hoping for a better future for their kids. Latinos stick together, we are a proud people when one us is attacked we all rise in defense it does not matter to us if they are Mexican, Honduran, Puerto Rican, or Colombian somos todos latinos undios por sangre…we are all Latinos united in blood…


"La raza unida jamas sera vencida," "The united (Hispanic) race will never be defeated."...

These photos are from a demonstration held on Saturday in NYC.

Labels: politics

Posted by @ 3:04 PM
1 comment from:  sadiq,