Poetry Monday: "Somebody Was Breaking Windows"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

On March 29th of this year, well before the advent of Poetry Monday I featured a poem in this blog by Luis J. Rodriguez, a poet, story-teller, and immigrants' rights advocate whom I met at the Cesar Chavez Conference in Glendale. That piece was entitled Running to America, a harsh, yet beautiful, description of the struggle of "illegal" immigrants in their quest to get into the United States for a better life. Running to America is the opening poem in Rodriguez' collection called My Nature is Hunger. Every poem in the volume is stunning, and I can't recommend it highly enough.

Part of my job with the Air Force is to facilitate Anger Management Groups for men and women. Most of the people who come into those groups, sometimes voluntarily and sometimes not, are young and are dealing with the pressures of relationships, young families, and highly stressful jobs. It isn't surprising that when those types of pressures are present, anger and rage often result. I use the following poem by Luis Rodriguez, Somebody Was Breaking Windows, to identify with the rage that is often within the members of the group and to get the conversation on anger flowing. It usually has a very powerful impact, because the characters in the poem are very much like the people sitting around the table talking about their anger issues.

Somebody Was Breaking Windows
By Luis J. Rodriguez

Somebody was breaking windows
out of a 1970’s Ford.
Somebody’s anger, for who knows what,
shattered the fragile mirror of sleep,
the morning silence
and chatter of birds.
A sledge hammer in both hands then crashed
onto the side of the car,
down the hood,
through the front grill and headlights.
This Humboldt Park street screamed
in the rage of a single young man.
Nobody got out of their homes.
Nobody did anything.
The dude kept yelling
and tearing into the car.
Nobody claimed it.
I looked out of the window as he swung again.
Next to me was a woman.
We had just awakened after a night of lovemaking.
Her six-year-old daughter was asleep
on a rug in the living room.
The woman placed her arms around me
and we both watched through the louver blinds.
Pieces of the car tumbled
onto the steamed asphalt.
Man hands to create it.
Man hands to destroy it.
Something about being so mad
and taking it out on a car.
Anybody’s car.
I mean, cars get killed everyday.
I understood this pain.
And every time he swung down on the metal,
I felt the blue heat swim up his veins.
I sensed the seething eye staring from his chest,
the gleam of sweat on his neck,
the anger of a thousand sneers
--the storm of bright lights
into the abyss of an eyeball.
Lonely? Out of work? Out of time?
I knew this pain. I wanted to be there,
to yell out with him,
to squeeze out the violence
that gnawed at his throat.
I wanted to be that sledge hammer,
to be the crush of steel on glass,
to be this angry young man,
a woman at my side.

My Nature is Hunger by Luis J. Rodriguez is available from Amazon. It is an amazing collection.

The Big Count

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

The United States Constitution contains a mandate that the country count its citizens every ten years. The first national census was conducted in 1790, and the process has been repeated every ten years since that time. The earliest censuses contained only the names of the head of families along with the gender and age of other family members. In 1850 the census began listing every member of the family by name. The modern censuses contain a great deal of information about the country's population, including family migration history, occupation, salaries, size of house or apartment, and other demographic matter.

These old documents are very useful to genealogists and historians. A census is released to the public seventy-five years after it is completed. All of the censuses from 1790 through 1930 are open for public perusal and can be obtained at most libraries and many on-line sites. The only major census that is problematic is the one that was conducted in 1890. Those records were being stored in a warehouse in Pittsburg, Kansas, that fell victim to a fire. Nearly the entire census was lost in that disaster. Other records are available for that time period, and a smart librarian can be very useful in tracking them down.

The census is also a very hot political topic. The actual count determines whether states gain or lose Congressional districts and have a big impact on how federal dollars are distributed. Every political entity wants to make sure that they are accurately counted. Historically, minority groups have been under-counted. There were certain areas that census takers feared to enter, and many people who had good reason to fear government intruders were reluctant to share information. In 2000 there was an effort to use a statistical process to estimate the under-counts, but certain parties in Congress (primarily Republicans) fought the process and would accept noting other than actual head counts. It wasn't that they didn't trust statistics so much as it was that they benefited politically from minority under-counts.

This year the folks at the U.S. Bureau of the Census have initiated some precautions to ensure a more accurate count of minorities, particularly Hispanics. The census countered over 35 million Hispanics in the U.S. in 2000, and many felt that was a serious under-count. By 2007, the Hispanic population was estimated at nearly 45 million.

So, enter the anti-immigration groups. They don't mind a fair count because they can use that as ammunition to keep the know-nothings stirred up. But they do get upset when political entities suspend immigration raids during the time the census is being taken. They also object to the Census Bureau's practice of counting illegal aliens - who do reside in this country and hence meet the Constitutional mandate for being counted.

This year the Census Bureau has enlisted Hispanic cultural groups and Spanish media to help promote and explain the census process. They will be using public service announcements, education, and public meetings to explain the importance of getting an accurate count, showing the ways that a good count can benefit the local communities.

Some of the census is taken by door-to-door census takers, but a majority of it is done through forms that are mailed to households. This year - for the first time, the census bureau will be sending out bilingual forms - 13 million of them. They are also actively trying to hire census takers who are bilingual. The goal is to have a census taker at the door who is a reflection of the person being interviewed.

Some people don't like it, but America is an inclusive country. We are many people from many backgrounds formed into one proud nation. Our diversity is our strength. We must all be counted so that we can ensure that all of our citizens share equally in that strength.

Macho!

by Pa Rock

I came across a small gem of a novel in the bookstore at the Alamo last month. The book is entitled Macho! and the author is Victor Villasenor. Macho! tells the fictional account of 17-year-old Roberto Garcia of the impoverished Mexican state of Michoacan. The action begins in the late 1960's or early 1970's when Roberto falls in with a group of Nortenos, Mexicans who go to the U.S. each spring and summer for the harvest. He travels north with them and eventually slips into the United States illegally where he makes a fortune by Michoacan standards and learns many life lessons along the way.

Macho! recounts Roberto's adventures and hard work in the United States against the backdrop of Cesar Chavez's United Farm Worker's strikes and boycotts. Roberto is there to make money and raise his family out of poverty, but, by being there, he and his companions are actually hurting the efforts of migrant union members who are trying to impact farm production and force the farm owners to pay them a decent wage. The book provides a strong sense of the balances that are in play in the delicate navigation of life.

It also provides a view of the dangers faced by those so desperate to improve their circumstances that they would walk across a wretched desert or allow themselves to be locked in the back of a hot and airless moving van in order to earn a few dollars and a modicum of self-respect. Macho! is a commentary on the immigration struggle from the time of Cesar Chavez up through the present. It is an old story, a continuing story, and could easily be tomorrow's news.

I finished this book with a much clearer picture of the cultural heritage of Mexican immigrants and the motivations that bring them north. Macho! tells a story of one very brave and ambitious young man, but he is representative of a people who desire to have a small portion of what their North American neighbors take for granted. It is a social education cloaked in a very good story.

My respect for this undocumented and vilified segment of our society has has grown as a result of reading Villasenor's fine prose. I recommend Macho! to anyone who wants to know more about the immigration issue and is not afraid to have their beliefs challenged.

Muchas Gracias, Amigos!

There are five Mexican men working in the parking lot of my apartment complex today, and I am reasonably certain that there is not one Green Card among them. They are hauling wheelbarrow loads of gravel to spread around the landscaping, they are mowing, they are weed-eating, and they are doing what they have to do to take care of their families while the Anglos that live here run from one air conditioner to another or sit by the pool drinking cold beer out of their ice chests.

These Mexican men, and women, and children - legal and illegal - may have not built Phoenix and its environs, but they maintain it, and it is their sweat-soaked dollars and pesos that keep the local economy churning. And what do they get for their efforts? Anonymous and lonely death in the Sonoran Desert, harassment from opportunistic politicians and law enforcement officials (who use these politically powerless individuals to maintain their own lawns, pools, and homes), the scorn of poor whites who see them as an economic threat rather than as fellow economic victims, and crap wages.

But where would we be without them?

Muchas gracias, amigos! Thank you for being here!

NO HATRED - NO FENCES - NO BORDERS!

Kiss, Kiss - Bang, Bang!

Last week a group of peaceful protesters set up a “No Borders Camp” at the fence that separates Calexico, California, from Mexicali, Mexico. Things went along fine for a few days until the group did something so outrageous that the Border Patrol couldn’t resist lurching into action. No, it wasn’t brick-throwing or even taunts and name-calling. Protestors began kissing their counterparts through the fence!

Some joyful soul came up with the idea of posting a sign on the wire mesh fence that said, “Kissing Booth,” and people quickly lined up on both sides of the border to partake in a little international smooching. Not to be outflanked by this obvious act of disrespect for authority, the Border Patrol responded by shooting pepper spray into the crowd. Several of the happy revelers were injured in the ensuing rush to get away from the spray.

If kissing brought on pepper spray, one can only wonder what would have been the result if some adventurous couple had tried to conceive a baby through the fence. Tactical nukes?

Memo to la Migra: If you can't pucker up, at least try to lighten up! Or, as we used to say in the sixties, "Make love, not war!"