The day was November 15th 2001 in Texas, I decided to start a tour of the Chicano Visions exhibition in San Antonio. I did this because there wasn’t a lot of recognition for Chicano art. The thing is, there is an influential academic community that has it out for me, I mean after all I did kind of come into their area with no authorization and start telling them what Chicano art was.

I described the show as Chicano art, but I didn't have the right degree to say that, all I had to back up that claim was money. Regardless, I want to share Chicano art with the world, and that's what I'm gonna do. A few of the people at the tour were professors and students that insisted that Chicano art was political. A lot of the people were aging Chicano protesters, I was one of them too, just I was able to pay my student loans.

During the preview opening, three large scary Chicanas literally backed me into a corner ”Where's all the political art!” they demanded. They kind of reminded me of my aunt, someone it would do you good not to mess with. I was scared, but I was able to show them where it was. I even went as far as to say I'd be putting more eventually, just to please them.

Now... I could tell they were not fully satisfied, but it was at least enough satisfaction to get off my back, so it was good enough for me. At the end of the night I told everyone that the next day there would be an open forum for anyone who had any questions about the show. Those same three Chicanas were in the crowd drinking tequila, one also threatened me with a finger across the neck, which was pretty rude.

The next day, I saw many people had returned to the gallery. It was mainly younger people or older people, there weren't many in between. The younger ones were admiring the art and trying to see how to get theirs noticed. They didn't have a problem with the fact some of the paintings were sponsored, unlike the older more political side. Whenever the older people questioned the younger ones about the sponsors they made some good points like “yeah whatever. How do you think these shows are going to be put on without sponsorships? Hold a car wash?”

Then we went on stage, on that stage with me were some community representatives, some artists in the exhibition, and a couple of museum officers. We tried to answer all the questions but a lot of it just went back and forth from questioner to answerer. We also included as much Spanish slang as possible while still trying to sound as academic as possible. The older Chicano looked around and realized they were outnumbered and weren't liked too much. They started counting the minutes until they could go have some breakfast.

Eventually, an elderly lady came up and asked one of the most important Chicano artists, John Valedez, a question that seemed to have both an accusing and challenging tone. “Given all the issues raised here this morning, and your willing participation in the show, do you still consider yourself a “Chicano” artist?” John looked up, as if contemplating all parts of the question. When he was done, he looked straight at the elderly woman and said, “Only if it bothers you.” In that moment, John Valedez became my Lifelong hero.