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Remembering the Legacy of Chicano Historian Juan Gómez-Quiñonez

It’s the beginning of my Fall quarter in 2016 here at UCLA as a newly transfer student. I’m sitting in a class called “History of Chicano People.”

My first introduction to the legendary Juan Gómez-Quiñonez, also known as GQ, was through fellow Mechistas in MEChA de UCLA. As a newly admitted transfer student, the type of talk surrounding GQ had me picture him as a hardcore, intense historian who achieved legendary status through his influential work. My first-hand experience in his courses was just that: he is a Chicano legend.

As GQ entered the class he started to write on the board with chalk and began his lecture. When I received the syllabus I was thrown off immediately. “CSM159A: History of Chicano People” required of me a stack of 7 books, one course reader, and included a full 4-page, single spaced, bibliography of recommended literature. Never have I had to read so much for a class; never have I seen such an intense workload; but if you asked me if it was worth it, I would say yes. This was history, and it wasn’t going to be easy unpacking all the material GQ wanted us to engage.

Between watching documentaries, films, and videos on Chicana/o history, I was mostly awed at his tome of a book, Roots of Chicano Politics, 1600-1940. Not only that one, but also the eye-opening Indigenous Quotient/Stalking Words: American Indian Heritage As Future, a book on Indigenous education and knowledge. These, among the rest we were required to read and to analyze, were some of the most foundational works that have stayed with me my entire time here at UCLA. Making Aztlan: Ideology and Culture of the Chicana and Chicano Movement, 1966‑1977 was another edition to my own groundwork as a Chicana/o Studies major and scholar. It, like many of GQ’s books, solidified my passion for this field/discipline of study and where I wanted to contribute as an emerging Xicano undergraduate scholar. And with the focus on expanding this field of study to include Indigenous peoples of the Americas, my own research and work has shifted dramatically to think about the issues I learned from GQ.

Photo by Kristian Vasquez

GQ has been here at UCLA since 1969, teaching and writing on Chicana/o history and movements; this in itself is a monumental achievement. He was at the front lines of Chicano Studies efforts during the Chicana/o Movement(s) of the 1960s through the ‘70s: he was a key player in the incarnation of El Plan de Santa Barbara: A Chicano Plan for Higher Education. GQ was also a founding co-editor of the Aztlan: International Journal of Chicano Studies Research here at UCLA through the Chicano Studies Resource Center, which he also helped develop. With his consistent teaching of “History of Chicano People,” he has made lasting impacts on students throughout the years. All of this 40 years of work, dedication, and passion for Chicana/o education in academia will be a legacy for the history of Chicana/o efforts at UCLA and beyond. This year marks his 52nd year here at UCLA.

It is sad to say that GQ will be retiring as a professor at UCLA and will be obtaining the title of professor emeritus. I believe it is important to remember the legacy of this Chicano historian, arguably the only historian of Chicana/o people at UCLA, with his depth, rigor, and intensity.

I am happy and proud to say that I have sat-in and experienced the courses taught by GQ: writing 20-page final papers, hearing many community guest speakers, and being humbled by the knowledge of a legendary Chicano historian has taught me many things here at UCLA. What will always remain will be my foundation to Xicanismo.

From what I have learned as a Xicano student, I can continue to teach the revolutionary spirit of GQ. From his involvement of the Hunger Strikes for the departmentalization of Chicana and Chicano Studies to his active role in the community, i.e. his help in the creation and sustainability of Academia Semillas del Pueblo Xinaxcalmecac, an Mexican Indigenous public charter school of the Los Angeles Unified School District. What this teaches students is the role we must take for ourselves, for the liberation of our Raza, and for the self-determination which comes before it.

Because he is a caring and passionate professor who wants nothing more than to have us all graduate and attain the skills to help our communities,GQ will always be open to any student. We can only hope that his legacy is continuously remembered and that we always respect and honor his work in and for the community.

As a Mechista involved in MEChA de UCLA, I want to also acknowledge GQ’s time and commitment to Chicanx students at UCLA.

Juan Gómez-Quiñonez, thank you for your contribution to my knowledge and for those who you have influenced while at UCLA.

¡VIVA LA CAUSA REVOLUCIONARIA!

Tlazocamati.

Note: GQ will be teaching his class CSM159A & B of the History of Chicano People Fall 2017 and Winter 2018 respectively.

 

Xicanx Studies as Healing and Resistance

Author Saphirre Long. Photo by Joel Calixto.

A rush of emotions swept over me as I sat in my Mexican-Americans in Schools class. Empowerment, anger, gratitude, and frustration fluctuated within me like I never felt before.

My professor was discussing the contemporary circumstances of Xicanx/Latinx students in public education, and it struck me that it was the first time I was hearing a lecture related to my personal experiences, as well as my identity, the part of my identity that has been suppressed.

Ironically, we have been taught to believe that school is where we receive an education, and that obtaining knowledge and learning occurs in the classroom. However, my exposure to Xicanx Studies during my first year at UCLA has been the opposite.

I have begun the process of unlearning all that I have been taught in an academic setting, and I have come to realize that the American education system is not about education at all, but the miseducation of many Xicanx/Latinx students.

Although I cannot speak for all students who have been a part of Xicanx Studies classrooms, it has become more evident that other Xicanx/Latinx students have a similar experience to my own. Prior to being at UCLA, I was not exposed to Xicanx Studies. With the ability to critically reflect on this now, I understand that this was no accident. I feel excitement and empowerment in being able to dedicate my studies to deconstructing and raising critical consciousness. However, it does not erase the trauma and injustice I have faced, and to an extent have internalized in my education.

It has never been as emotional as it is now to sit in a classroom, because for starters, I am barely learning about events in Xicanx/Latinx history that I had the right to know about years ago. Secondly, learning to use my voice is a challenge when our community has been intentionally silenced, especially in the classroom. On the other hand, acknowledging my emotions and experiences is crucial in my healing process, and to become empowered in an institution that was not built for me.

The introduction I have had in Xicanx Studies has transformed my life in only a few months, and it is one of the most important spaces I will ever be a part of. I could have never imagined that I would have the opportunity to critically analyze or reflect on my personal experiences, and to do so with other Xicanx/Latinx students as a community is liberating. While our community faces systemic barriers and oppression outside of these classrooms, continuing to pursue Xicanx Studies in higher education in itself is an act of resistance.

For my own personal journey, Xicanx Studies is my resistance against hegemonic ideologies of a career or degree that society tells me to pursue in order to be “successful.”

My perception of fulfillment is being able to transform my own narrative of injustice into purpose, in hopes that it can relate to others, and to assist in the spark I wish I would have had sooner.

Xicanx Studies has taught me that for as long as I am disconnected with my history, that I will also be disconnected with myself. Although the process of unlearning and transforming my miseducation is personally challenging, the beauty in the revolution of consciousness overpowers all.

This course of digging deep within myself, to discover what has been buried by colonization and capitalism will be a lifelong progression. My resistance and healing has begun in Xicanx Studies, and I realize now that it is much bigger than myself, but healing and resistance is also for my family and my community.

To embrace my identity and narrative from the Xicanx Studies space is also the cultivation of a sacred seed from the roots that is my lineage.

Remembering Beloved UCLA Professor

While at UCLA, I took Professor Mark Sawyer’s course, “Black Experience in Latin America and Caribbean.” I still have the books we read in this class and I still have the slides he made for his lectures. This is one of the most valuable courses I ever took at UCLA and one of the most memorable. His class was interactive and he would incorporate music and popular culture into his curriculum, making the material a lot more relevant and easier to understand.

He also led the abroad program to Puerto Rico with Professor Cesar Ayala and I remember trying to convince people to sign up with me because the program kept getting cancelled due to low student enrollment.

I hope his contributions continue to receive the acknowledgement they deserve and that his legacy remains strong. May he rest in peace.

 

Transitioning from a Big Household to College

I went from living in a big, noisy Mexican household of eight people, to living in a tiny, quiet room with two other people. I felt out of place, like a fish out of water, for a few weeks after my transition.

My hometown is San Jose, a city within the Bay Area. My home is five hours away on a good day, but sometimes it takes six or seven hours to get there with traffic. Some would say I stayed close to home, and though it is true I can go home fairly easily, it still feels like I’m an incredibly long way from home.

The hardest thing for me was waking up the first couple of days and not hearing the familiar voices. Not hearing my two nieces yelling at the top of their lungs, my brothers happily playing on the PlayStation, my mom and dad making breakfast, our two dogs barking and running around.

I woke up and heard voices that were so new to me it’s as if I almost drowned them out.

I believe family dynamics plays a big role in how difficult or easy a college freshman’s transition is.

What seems like a big move to me, may not seem like a far distance to others. Not every family is the same and while my family is a tight knit, huge family, other students may come from a household of only two or three.

Thankfully, for me, being apart from my family gets easier as the months go by. The first couple of months were the hardest because I did not see my parents for most of fall quarter, but now that I’m busier and more involved on campus, time seems to be flying by quicker and before I know it, it seems as if I am packing up for a weekend back home.

Julianna Swilley, a first year pre psychology major, says she adjusted to college life fairly well, making her transition easier than she thought.

“Not having my mom around was hard because back at home it was just me and her, and being here alone was hard for me,” Swilley states. Swilley believes her family was close, having breakfast together on Sundays and weekly dinner gatherings with her aunts and grandparents, but her transition was easy, something she believes to be “contradicting.”

On the other hand, Paige Mesias, a first year business economics major, said her experience as a college freshman has gotten a bit more challenging. Mesias comes from a large family of seven. Although she believes her first quarter was an easy transition, she now finds herself missing her family more than last quarter. The hardest part for Mesias is not being able to talk to her parents daily. Mesias believes that family dynamics play a role in how difficult or easy a college student’s transition is because an independent person will miss their family a little less than someone who had a close relationship with them.

Whether we come from a small family of two or a big, extended family, it seems that the transition to college affects every freshman differently.

As much as we wanted to tell ourselves that we would be fine without our parents, let’s face it, we miss them just as much as they miss us.

¡AYOTZINAPA RESISTE!: State Sanctioned Violence and Indigenous Resistance

Above photo credit to Al Jazeera Media Network

This article is a collaboration between La Gente staff writers, Maritza Geronimo and Kristian Vasquez.

Este es México. La de este país es una historia de equivocaciones. Pero hasta ahora, siempre de los que equivocan son ellos y nosotros [Indígenas] somos la equivocación y quien la paga.

—Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos, un Zapatista de Chiapas, México

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Ayotzinapa Habla del Corazón

On November 21st and 22nd, a father and organizer of the Ayotzinapa 43 movement raised consciousness to the mass kidnapping of the disappeared students. They spoke of what took place on September 26, 2014 in Iguala, Guerrero, México, and the aftermath of what was to come; it was a caravan which would spend two invaluable days at UCLA.

From student-led discussions, questions, and comments and a class led by Chicano Historian Juan Gómez-Quiñonez, El Movimiento Estudiantil Chicanx de Aztlán (MEChA)–supported by the Chicana/o Studies Department–organized this important outreach/plática to take place.

The Organizers shared their testimonios of the students from Raúl Isidro Burgos Rural Teachers College of Ayotzinapa. These students were leading a bus to protest and remember the 1968 Tlatelolco Massacre in la Ciudad de México.

The students were intercepted by Iguala municipal police,  were then taken, detained, and handed over to a drug organization. Speakers Felipe de la Cruz and Mario César Gonzalez Contrera discussed corruption and the reality of state sanctioned violence against the Indigenous people of México.

After the events of September 26th, Indigenous Resistance was pioneered by parents, families, and communities. The Ayotzinapa 43 lived on.

This is for them, their parents, and everyone.

This is the consciousness needed by the movement to find the 43.

Below you will find our personal stories, experiences, reflections, and frustrations.

 

“Ayotzinapa Somos Todos”

Siento su dolor, siento su resistencia, siento la desaparición de los 43. Siento como si fuera mi cuerpo, mi familia, mi sangre—y sí lo es.

The 43 went missing in México, but the pain was and must continue to be felt everywhere until they are found.

September 2014:

The sky feels mi gente’s pain; we cry as one. I hear the crowd count off, “uno, dos, tres, cuatro….” Alone with my camera in hand, I run through the crowd. I see the distress on all the brown faces as they yell for justicia.  Pictures of the 43 young men plastered on poster boards and in them I see myself: an 18 year old college student with a drive to learn and uplift my community. Yet our struggle is not the same, for I am here standing safely while they are missing. Pero su dolor es mi dolor. I carry that pain with me for the next two years. Not a day goes by that I do not remember the 43.

“Vivos se los llevaron, vivos los queremos.”

November 2016:

I am standing outside the UCLA guest house awaiting MEChA’s two guest speakers: Felipe de la Cruz (representative for the families of the 43) and Mario Cesar Gonzalez Contreras (a father of one of the 43 missing students).

“It has been two years, but it feels like just yesterday. We are tired, but not ready to give up,” they share with a crowd of students. I am translating for them tonight. I translate the words of a father’s broken heart and with every syllable that comes out of my mouth I feel his heartbeat.

Don Mario recounts a personal narrative, one left out of most media outlets, where he recalls the last time he heard his son’s voice on the day of September 26, 3:35 pm. He looks at us students and says, “I have gotten the opportunity to speak in front of many crowds, but by far this college tour has been the hardest. I look at you all and see my son. Many of you are his age. Many of you have similar characteristics.” The crowd is silent. I am hurting yet quickly trying to formulate words for others to understand.

As Don Mario continues, he says, “To be a student in México is to be a threat to the government. Why do you think our children are missing? We cannot trust the police, the narcos, the government: because they are all the same.” If we cannot trust any systems then we as a gente must organize together and not forget the 43. Students are quick to ask the guest, “What can we do to help?”

Don Mario answers, “We were just farmers—humble people. Many of us did not know how to read and now we read every day. We have created a movement—us. You, you have all the tools. If we did it, you can too.”

It has been 2 years: a wound left open, a wound being continuously cut—sangre corriendo. The government’s hands covered in blood, come in for a handshake. Creen que no sabemos. They think they can continue to erase us—pero ya basta. A nuestra gente les quitaron tanto, que les quitaron el miedo. Entonces miremós al gobierno a la cara y recordarles de quien es esta tierra.

 

“Triste Soy”

Este es nuestro grito, esta es nuestra canción

acabar con la obediencia y aplastar la sumisión

Antes que ser esclavos preferimos morir

Porque la obediencia es muerte y revelarse es vivir

This lyric—from the anarchist punk band de México, Desobediencia Civil—resonates with the powerful, beautiful, and resilient 43 Indigenous students who were taken from all of us.

With the rise of activism from students—of expression and direct-action—state sanctioned violence, which presents itself with the mass kidnapping of these students, speaks volumes. It reminds us all of the importance of protest, of the struggle for real transformation, and its reactive counter from the oppressive nation-state and their respective agents.

These 43 students stood up against what they perceived as wrong, against systems that oppressed, exploited, and marginalized their community. They fought, as Indigenous people of the land, for their liberation and self-determination to resist, exist, and emancipate themselves.

Education, often considered a privilege, is a necessity for all people, a right for all people. Education was fought for by the Ayotzinapa students: 43 sacrificed their lives for such a struggle.

I’m reminded constantly of the brutal, persistent, and unpleasant effects that have ruptured la tierra de México. The conditions of México have been in turmoil ever since the first wave of colonialism in 1492 and its later inception as a nation-state by the Spanish Empire, further complicated by México’s independence and what Mexican anthropologist Guillermo Bonfil Batalla called  the “Imaginary México.” But this gets spoken about differently in many and all spaces; between classes, family, institutions, the government, and so on. We see either its necessity, its benefits, or maybe (when we are critical) we perceive the complexities which birth the motions at work today.

Yet, we must always remember where México is grounded: who inhabits the lands (and always has), who works the land (and experiences first-hand the ills of modernity), and who breathes the air their ancestors did before 1492. The remnants of Mesoamerican civilization and its ongoing survival—these are the Indigenous who suffer the most and the imperative to see through their eyes is exponential.

We must read our history as Raza and see that across Abya Yala we are all connected—but some of us experience drastically different things (from different regions and upbringings), and because of colonialism las Indígenas de esta tierra are subject to subjugation far beyond what we know here in the United States.

With the rise and stabilization of modernity, with its catastrophic results, the situation we bear witness to in México is exemplified by what happened—continues to happen throughout México—in Iguala, Guerrero. The Indigenous people continue to suffer under the hands of colonial legacies and modernities and are erased slowly from the social fabric of our consciousness as we choose to forget. Students like the 43 wanted to mobilize against this reality.

The lost, they bleed through our neglect.

The lost, they incite inside many of us a fire that never burns.

The lost, they must never be forgotten—or we will have given up the Indigenous struggle, and the struggle for our entire Raza’s liberation.

Triste soy por toda mi gente que sufre este tiempo de corrupción.

This is violence, and this is injustice.

¡Ayotzinapa resiste!

As I turned my eyes and ears to the stories bled by a vulnerable father, I felt the pain for the 43 families, of a community who can’t find 43 young students. They paid with their lives for an education, which was evolved by parents to a grander and global movement for the future of México.

We must all struggle for their lives, for their vision, and for the struggle of Indigenous people in México.

 

Call to Action

“They thought they could bury us, but they didn’t know we were seeds.” —Popol Vuh

Indigenous people have been at the forefront of our liberation, yet too often it is us who continue to neglect them.

Somos de su sangre—pero no lo queremos admitir—escucha a tu corazón temblar por sus llantos—y verás que son tus llantos también.

As Students of Color, as Raza, it is our time and energy that must be put to work. We are reminded today of Don Mario’s words: “We hope the search does not have to continue for another 2 years”

The movement these parents started must continue to be heard—if it takes another 2 years; let it be 2 years of growing cross community organizing, 2 more years of building consciousness—but do not let 2 more years be silenced. It is our time to recognize our place in the fight for liberation of nuestra raza, which can only truly begin once we realize the 43 students somos todos.

We can no longer look at the Indigenous struggle as something of the past—it has been, it is here, and will continue to be here until we recognize it as our struggle too.

This is a call for you.

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How to Help

Organize! Join Raza groups! Join Student Groups! Create your own consciousness-building collective! Spread the word through your social media; your family, peers, friends, Gente; travel the far corners and yell #Ayotzinapa43Vive!

Follow:

https://www.facebook.com/Padres-Y-Madres-De-Ayotzinapa-489352334561638/

Donate:

Maximino Hernandez Cruz
Tesorero de los padres de Ayotzinapa

Num. Cuenta 0105636140 Bancomer

Codigo interbancaria: 012280001056361403

Codigo SWIFT: BCMRMXMM

Cel: 7541036291

Press Release: Statewide Strike of the University of California to Impact Students and Public

Below is a press release of the University of California workers strike that is taking place today on the Los Angeles and San Diego UC campuses. The workers, who are represented by Teamsters Local 2010, are protesting unfair labor practice violations. UC workers held a similar demonstration in November protesting insufficient wage increases.

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Same School, Different Stories: Getting to Know UCLA’s Non Angelenos

Students travel from all over the world to attend and graduate from an institution like UCLA. This is exactly what makes it such a prestigious university. Students come here with different majors, different cultures, and different experiences, but all with one thing in common: a motivation to succeed.

First year political science major Alejandro Cepeda traveled 2,000 miles to attend UCLA. “My experience has been pretty cool. Living in a big city like LA is great. Everyone wants to come here,” says the South Florida native.

Fortunately for Cepeda, it did not take a lot to convince his parents he was attending school in California.

My parents already dealt with it with my older brother. They were obviously sad about everything but they completely supported me [because] it was to improve my education,” he says.

“My family went to college in Colombia. My parents didn’t finish over there but my grandparents did. It’s a different system there but my brother and I are the first to go to a university in the United States.”

Though his family experienced education through a slightly different educational system, it allowed him to learn the importance of reaching for higher education.

Cepeda also mentions that moving away from home wasn’t a surprise to anyone around him. “I’ve never planned to stay at home in the sense that I would be a commuter, I never wanted to do that. But I always thought I’d go out of state because I have siblings that went to out of state, so it was just normal for me. It wasn’t this crazy idea,” he says.

He has embraced all that UCLA has to offer even taking the step to pledge for Nu Alpha Kappa, a Latino-Based fraternity on campus.

“Being separated from my family can be a bad thing but it’s also a good thing because I get to live on my own. I do everything by myself. It’s a learning experience for me,” he says.

Just a slightly further trip, first-year economics major Arthur Costa traveled 12 hours and 5,5000 miles on a plane from São Paulo, Brazil to spend his next four years at UCLA.

He is very happy having chosen UCLA to continue his education. “My experience has been pretty great, actually. I really like it here. I love California. I thought it was the best state to come to,” he says.

Costa applied to schools from all over the world but narrowed his options to schools in the U.S.

He was also fortunate enough to be influenced by his parents to attend college. Costa is not new to the idea of pursuing education considering that both his parents went to college in Brazil.

Though he is far from home, he hopes to go back to Brazil during the summer and intern at a Brazilian bank. He will definitely continue becoming a competitive candidate for graduate school.

On another note, first-year political science major Cindy Montoya had a different experience coming down to Los Angeles as a California native.

“The move was a little difficult for me because I was so attached to my family, but I got past the homesickness within the first days I got here,” she says.

Montoya traveled all the way from Salinas which is approximately 5 hours away from UCLA. “I come from a big city up in NorCal but nothing compares to the size of LA so everything is new to me.”

Even though she is a first-generation student, her parents continue to emphasize the importance of achieving higher education.

“My parents only finished high school and my sister is just starting her second year at Sacramento State University. Sometimes it feels like I’m doing everything on my own but I know it’ll be worth it for my family and myself,” she says. “My experience has been really great so far. Everyone is very friendly, the campus is beautiful, and L.A. is honestly amazing. It’s like a whole different world in SoCal.”

This just goes to show that UCLA has a diverse set of people with different stories. These three students are living proof that the Latino community is continuously fighting battles and still manage to represent our community in prestigious universities across the world.