Tears of Resistance
I was sitting in a classroom, and I swear this story’s true,
(It was not Chicano Studies Introductory with you)
And I hope you will not judge me for the words that choke my tongue
When it took Chicano Studies to show me that I was wrong.
I was sitting in a classroom when the boy behind me said
That his young Latino Native friends were in a gang or dead.
And the teacher nods and smiles, the students feel grotesque.
And I'm in the front row crying, planting tears into the desk.
I was crying for my classmate, his buddies and their health,
And I felt a little selfish, and was crying for myself.
It's an awful truth to tell you, and I wished I didn't cry,
But the eyes reflect el corazón and mirrors never lie.
It took this class to understand those tears were not a sin,
And tender drops could water opposition from within.
Encoded in our history, the answer is to care.
Where power feasts like cancer, you will find resistance there. [1]
When colonial settlers invaded Natives’ land,
They replaced Native culture with a hunger to expand.
Though genocide did rape and butcher, the Indians persist.
Indigenous resistance travels lips to thought to fist.
Resistance thrived among the Chumash, beaten by the cross.
The Spanish missions starved and overworked people across
Our Alta California, and when Mexico prevailed,
With freedom from the Spanish, its true platform was unveiled:
Conditions in the missions never did improve at all
And so the Chumash Indians decided they must fall.
They planned for months and traveled miles to fight against the hurt.
A thousand came and fought and lost and were forced to convert.
Yet still the Chumash live today, descendants strong and proud.
Their ancestors resisted and inspired voices loud. [2]
The tears of those Indigenous descendants water seeds,
Empowering communities to grow and fight for needs.
We counter those colonialist narratives and tales,
Disrupting the erasure that the settler gaze entails.
(The settler gaze imagines what a Native “ought to be”
Destroys and subjugates and then denies reality.)
Across the generations, we reclaim our memories,
And challenge the intent to manifest their “destiny.”
These narratives and stories, as Luhui Whitebear states,
Uplift Indigenous perspectives and diminish men's hate. [3]
The intergenerational narratives that we tell
Will surely bring us healing, yet bring sorrow just as well.
In those bitter tears, a sweet resistance we will find.
These narratives will guide us to decolonize the mind.
It isn’t always easy to decolonize the heart
When we inherit trauma from our parents from the start.
We borrow pain until this broken treasure fills our shelves.
If we forgive our fathers, how do we forgive ourselves? [4]
In great Alexie’s Smoke Signals, young Victor struggled here.
His father, alcoholic, filling him and mom with fear.
And when his father left him, he let anger scorch his pain.
And when his father left the Earth, then only ash remained.
His father, Arnold Joseph, lit a fire in his chest,
Then fire leapt from heart to home, and Arnold traveled west.
The fire consumed everything that Thomas ever had,
And when it wasn’t satisfied, it ate his mom and dad.
How do we forgive our fathers when they break our house and home?
How do we forgive our fathers when they burn our flesh and bone?
Young Victor didn’t understand, but Thomas always knew.
And Victor learned forgiveness, though he never intended to. [5]
In Ralph Armbruster-Sandoval’s discussion of this plot,
Estudiantes all unmasked the pain our fathers brought.
And so I learned a second time the strength of tears unfurled:
A drop for Victor, one for us, and one to heal the world. [6]
Estábamos presente, and we clapped for those we lost.
We wept and talked for hours to the edge of great exhaust.
The love that shone in profesor illuminates his will, [7]
And like Márquez’s “light like water” could not help but spill. [8]
The consciousness we build in class, the mindset we equip,
Exemplifies an element of grassroots leadership.
By showing us the struggles of Chicanos past and now,
A leader we have found in Ralph Armbruster-Sandoval. [9]
Leaders also organized for Palestine in Spring.
They organized encampments and they each risked everything. [10]
By centering the energy and building consciousness,
A network of leadership spoke a quiet voice we bless.
Like voices of Chicanas back in 1935,
When fierce Doña Moreno with a union organized.
Luisa the Moreno too was radical from tears.
A rat consumed a baby’s face, before her union years,
But brave Moreno organized and didn’t fear to fight.
She organized a congress to discuss Chicano rights,
And when the politicians told her “Testify or go,”
She took her newest husband and went down to Mexico. [11]
Esperanza Quintero from the film Salt of the Earth
Channels sense of place to challenge Zinctown’s labor’s worth.
Her sense of place and otherwise connection with the land
Is also called querencia, and generations spanned. [12]
At first, her voice was disregarded; her requests were treated less.
Then, she rose, and brought a way of intersectional justice. [13]
And this “new way” allowed her hope to lead and howl and rise,
And push the world up with her, with coyotes in her eyes
Another grassroots leader, or a group of them at least
Began the LA blowouts for escuelas in the East.
Police arrested Sal Castro and the East LA 13,
But many more supported the teacher Castro and the dream.
The dream of all the students was to have a future bright,
And at the time, the only way to reach it was to fight.
And in the movie Walkout, which depicted these events,
The students waved their college apps at Castro and his friends.
Resisting changed the students, gave them passion for themselves,
And though the students wept, they held their ground and they excelled.
The fire bright inside the kids inspired Sal to say,
"Of all the days to be Chicano, the best one is today." [14]
So, who is a Chicano? What would I have you to learn?
Chicano means querencia, Chicano means to burn;
Chicano means resistance and Chicano means to cry;
Chicano means Chicana too, it isn’t just for guys.
Chicano is political, it’s who you choose to be. [15]
Chicano love is powerful and beautiful to me.
Chicano people fight the power holding picket signs,
And I'll forever weep with honor, resisting by your side.
[1] R. Armbruster-Sandoval, “What’s Going On? Chicanx Studies, History, Emotions, and Social Movements,” presented at the Chicano Studies 1A Lecture, Aug. 06, 2024.
[2] Sabine Nicole, Chumash Revolt of 1824, (Sep. 08, 2018). Accessed: Aug. 25, 2024. [Online Video]. Available: www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBNt1t92Yqs
[3] L. Whitebear, “Resisting the Settler Gaze: California Indigenous Feminisms,” Feminist Formations, vol. 35, no. 1, pp. 97–116, 2023.
[4] D. Lourie, “Forgiving Our Fathers,” in Ghost Radio, Hanging Loose Press, 1998.
[5] C. Eyre, Smoke Signals, (1998).
[6] R. Armbruster-Sandoval, “Settler Colonialism, Genocide, Healing, Fatherhood, and Forgiveness,” presented at the Chicano Studies 1A Lecture, Aug. 08, 2024.
[7] R. Armbruster-Sandoval, “‘I Change Myself, I Change The World:’ Story-Telling, Trauma, Transformation, and Chicana/o/x Studies,” presented at the Chicano Studies 1A Lecture, Aug. 13, 2024.
[8] G. Garcia Marquez, “Light is Like Water,” in Strange Pilgrims, Pilgrim Books, 1992.
[9] D. D. Bernal, “Grassroots Leadership Reconceptualized: Chicana Oral Histories and the 1968 East Los Angeles School Blowouts,” Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies, vol. 19, no. 2, pp. 113–142, 1998, doi: 10.2307/3347162.
[10] R. Armbruster-Sandoval, “Campus Activism Tour,” presented at the Chicano Studies 1A Lecture, Aug. 21, 2024.
[11] V. Ruiz, “Una Mujer Sin Fronteras,” Pacific Historical Review, vol. 73, no. 1, pp. 1–20, 2004, doi: 10.1525/phr.2004.73.1.1.
[12] K. Roybal, “Deep Roots in Community: Querencia and Salt of the Earth,” in Querencia: Reflections on the New Mexico Homeland, University of New Mexico Press, 2020.
[13] H. Bieberman, Salt of the Earth, (1954).
[14] E. Olmos, Walkout, (2006).
[15] K. Gomez-Pelayo, “Chicano Studies Week 3 Discussion Section,” presented at the Chicano Studies 1A Discussion, Aug. 20, 2024.
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MILO BROWN is an artist, poet, scientist, and California resident. Their work has appeared in Eunoia Review and The Cawnpore Magazine. When not writing poetry, they enjoy sketching, watching the sunset, and reading hopeful books about dystopian societies; you can find their published work online.