LAST YEAR MARKED a turning point for me as a Latino poet supporting comprehensive immigration reform. My increase in social activism was related to the increased need for solutions to America’s problem of over-deportation and significant roadblocks in paths to citizenship.

I can’t blame any immigrant for seeking a better, honest life in America. I always like to say: if I were a poor man in another country, I would get to America any way I could. El Otro Lado is equated with the Promised Land for tens of thousands each year escaping regional oppression, poverty, cartels and corrupt governments. Immigrants risk their lives through perilous journeys on railways, in cars, through tunnels, over deathly desert terrain and narco-run borders, taking them, hopefully, into American streets, though often that means time in jail-like safe houses.

My social activism began during the marches in the mid-2000s, when high school campuses overflowed onto Bakersfield and L.A. city streets (to name a few). With shaking hands and a wavering voice, I presented the interactive poem, Immigration! Interrogation, to the largest audience I ever read to, which included around 30,000 protesters at Beach Park in central Bakersfield (estimated numbers).

That day was followed by a lull in immigration reform activism. However, through a concerted grassroots effort, 2013 witnessed changes in affecting the consciousness of the American people on immigration reform.Central California is not a popular area to support immigration reform. Bakersfield, while a central area for the United Farm Workers (UFW) and the hub for the Dolores Huerta Foundation, is a city steeped in racial prejudice. In 2007, the local city council declared English as the official language of the city. Of course that was an ideological failure. There’s more Spanish television and radio than ever before. That means Spanish advertisements (big money) not to mention Spanish spoken at healthcare facilities, school programs, banks, you name it. “Spanish” simply equates with dollars in the Central California economy. Blame immigrants if you want. The positive side is economic opportunity.

So, why did politicians put forth such a vote when the English language was never in jeopardy of disappearing in the southern Central Valley? It was terrible political posturing, declaring the area a non-sanctuary for Spanish-speaking immigrants. That’s how I took it anyway: a political effort to eradicate the ideology of supporting immigration reform.

The changing landscape of non-white demographics, however, will continue to force change. And a national discussion on immigration reform, while the discussion passes through Central California, means the story is much larger than a few Bakersfield politicians falling prey to larger political forces, making the entire city look as if it’s run by bumbling idiots. Stamping out a little smoke will never put out a fire and immigration reform has blazed across the consciousness of major American cities.

Because of health issues with my feet, and because I was in Texas part of 2013, I missed out on an immigration reform march through hundreds of miles of the Central Valley from Sacramento, Calif. to Bakersfield. I wanted to make at least part of the journey–the thirty miles or so from Delano, Calif., where a rally was then held to try to shake U.S. Rep. Kevin McCarthy into some kind of dialogue regarding the immigration reform bill stalled in the House.

When I received an email from CSU Bakersfield professor Gonzalo Santos about the final portion of the march, I was saddened. I just couldn’t physically do the walk. Nevertheless, 2013 had other moments where I was able to come out, lend a voice, and go home satisfied, knowing that people everywhere were hearing a new message about an old topic that has sparked debates for hundreds of years.

In case you haven’t been reading your history books, America has been a destination for immigrants, free and otherwise, since before becoming a republic. The idea of coming to America, whether undocumented, or through some kind of desperate means on a ship to a wide-open wilderness in the 16th Century, or sneaking into the nation through closed borders is a story retold over and over again. Why blame the blameless when government systems are failing people all over the world?

One of my students, an undocumented immigrant, wrote about her journey to America many years before. She and her family were led by Coyotes across the U.S.-Mexico border. I read part of Liz Tonoco’s essay, “A Paved Road For Angels” at an immigration reform rally on March 24, 2013 at Jastro Park in Bakersfield. Here’s a little of her story that took place on November 21, 1995:

A few times we were told to drop to the ground so we could hide from unknown shadows or lights. “No piensen,” one of the Coyotes said. “No  piensen. No mas tirense al suelo como muertos.” Don’t think. Don’t think, just drop to the ground like the dead. Mom fell quickly, but was gentle enough not to make Baby Roger cry. Our legs were tired, but if our idiot Coyotes said we needed to walk another two days, we would have.

A photo of me appeared in the Bakersfield Calfornian reading the essay (I also read a poem written for the event). While I wasn’t mentioned in the article, I was glad an image of me wearing a t-shirt with the words, “The pathway to citizenship passes through Bakersfield,” could lend to the message that all citizens, even a lowly dual-ethnic, poet-novelist could support.

I’ve written a few poems about that day, trying to capture some of the spirit of not just my experience, but of the people in the crowd. One of the poems I wrote is titled “Anonymous.”

A man in a mask, long pony tail like Jorge the
Poet. Calls himself Anonymous. Even after

I take a photo with him, tell him my name, he
hesitates, says, “I’m Anonymous.” Wears a

Guy Fawkes mask—V for Vendetta movie.
From the comic book. Is this protest, are these

just comic book moments? He carries two signs with
stencils of the same mask face. His hair is like the long

black mane of a mustang. One sign reads, “Immigration
is not a new problem. Native Americans used to call it

‘white people.’” He wears a shirt that says, REBELS. On
it are Han, Chewie, Luke and R2-D2. Who are the rebels

on your shirt? The Empire or Hollywood? The CEOs or
the U.S. Government? Are you angry at Chicanos? Are

you an anonymous man or an anonymous Chicano? I can
see your dark skin. I can see you might be Native

American. I can see you might be angry at every color. I can
see you might be a hacker. I can see you might have something

more to say. I can see you in the crowd. Remember me? I took
my photo with you. Remember me? Were we in line for Star

Wars, Episode XX together? Remember me, when I read you
poetry at the park and you held those signs and you stood up

to everyone and said, “I am no one. I am everyone. I am Anonymous.
I am Guy Fawkes. I am Han Solo. I am Native American. I am

R2-D2. I am Chicano. I am the son of a farm worker. I am the son
of an immigrant. I am Luke Skywalker. I am Chewbacca, far from

Kashyyyk, far from Hollywood. Far from Galactic origins. Far from
revolution, protest and the fields where my people began to die.”

On June 15, 2013, nine catholic nuns from “Nuns on the Bus,” a national bus tour promoting comprehensive immigration reform stopped in Bakersfield. KBAK called the protesters immigration activists in their news segment of the day. Sister Simone Campbell, as well as Dolores Huerta, spoke at Yokuts park.

I read a new version of the interactive poem “When I Think of You America”:

Here’s one of its many stanzas:

When I think of you, America . . . Yes? Say what you think of me.
I think how Oscar came to America in the trunk of a car, how

he lived in a prison behind real bars in a Los Angeles home,
how on American streets, he found his way into a real American

dream. He paid for an identity that shouldn’t have cost him
so much. What he earned was a new family, his children my

children’s best friends, who saw no country of origin in his eyes.
My children never asked their friends’ dad for a work visa,

because children know better than adults sometimes, especially

this time, because America, your arms need to open the way a
child’s does, with a need to be loved, not to just be loved by you.

Comprehensive immigration reform passed the Senate in 2013, and was mentioned in President Obama’s State of the Union Speech. According to a USA Today article, House Speaker John Boehner, who supports reform, is finally pushing back against the Republican party. Will he have more time to do so in early 2014 since the federal budget was passed? Will his party turn on him?

I don’t know what to expect in 2014 regarding my social activism, poetry and immigration reform. I know I’ll keep working toward supporting the cause when invited. I know I’ll strive to finish the book of poetry, Cradles for the Dying. I have sixty-two pages of material. Lots of revisions to do. Lots of poems to finish, including one titled “National Monument” about my day at La Paz (UFW headquarters) when President Obama spoke, dedicating the burial ground site of Cesar Chavez as a national monument.
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