The street was packed, women, children, and men all cheering. Posters filled with glitter and bright bold letters. Police cars all lined up, roads blocked about 3 miles out. I was the one leading this protest with others helping me organize; this protest against California grapes. This whole protest was to show how we work hard, and to be treated fairly, and for better pay and better working conditions for migrant workers and laborers. I am a Mexican-American that was raised in Yuma, Arizona then moved to San Jose, CA which is where I met my wife of 15 years.
I have been an activist ever since my dad was treated unfairly just because of his race. This wasn’t the only time I faced discrimination, as a child, curious, strange children would always tease me. I was teased for not being able to speak English properly, or not being able to speak it at all. One time I was talking to a friend about homework, “ Hey do you know what was number two on page three for math homework?” said my tall, a little dumb friend.
“ You accidentally missed th---” I was then rudely interrupted by my other classmate. The classmate then pushed me against my almost closed, tan, very tall locker. I then asked why he did that and then he replied,
“ Cause you don’t belong here, go back where you belong!”.
Ever since then I have always treated people the way I wanted to be treated. Now I make sure that my kids and future generations know that we should all be treated equally. Even though I am peacefully fighting for what is right I sometimes face threats or even violence.
“ Go back to Mexico,” said a stranger walking by angrily. Another stranger even threatened that he would fight if I didn’t stop causing chaos.
Sometimes I thought about quitting and hoping someone else would fight for equal pay and better working conditions. Fortunately my wife kept encouraging me. One day she brought some snacks and drinks for everyone, even for the workers in the office.
“ Honey, I’m in the parking lot. Do you want me to bring it up to the front?” said Helen, sweating from the hot beaming sun.
“ That’s great, I can meet you there, and have some of my friends help me with it. Thank you.” I said hungrily.
In a couple of days I will be going on a hunger strike with some of my buddies. Earlier I was talking about the protest against the California grapes, later I decided to take it further and go on a hunger strike. I had to prepare for my hunger strike, in order for me to not get ill I will have to slowly decrease how much food I will be consuming.
Two weeks have passed, “ How are you feeling today daddy?” said one of my daughters, Elizabeth curiously.
“ I’m good, a little exhausted and hungry.” I stated. I am proud I am doing this without a big platform, instead of making a huge deal out of the strike.
I am sitting on the couch thinking if this hunger strike will make an impact on others. I then stood up and walked over to get my car keys and drove to the town hall to discuss issues about the labor and how some of us are treated. I then explained why I am on this hunger strike. My explanation seemed to intrigue them, but not make them fully invested in this situation.
A total of 25 days has passed and I am feeling fatigued. The hunger strike overall was very educational. This experience has taught me that if I am determined to do something, I can and will achieve it. Some days I felt that I should give up, other days were better. It was the positive days that kept me going most of the time. Earlier I said how I liked how this wasn’t going viral and no one wasn’t making it a big deal. Turns out it caught attention, and it went on many news stations. It wasn’t the attention that made me keep leading boycotts, speeches, and even campaigns, it was all the support and encouragement I received.
On top of that, my children were very engaged in what I was doing. Especially Paul, my son, he would ask very in depth questions. For example he once said,
“ Dad, how did inequality, and injustice affect you that made you driven to do this?” I then answered saying,
“ Well Paul, when I was younger your grandpa was treated unfairly because he was Mexican, once you are older you will understand a little more.” A couple weeks have passed and I have recovered from the fast. It was a little weird at first, but I just took it slow and didn’t rush into it. If I were to indulge myself with a buffet of food, I would get very ill. Helen also was fascinated by the strike. She was thinking she could help out with the posters, and try to research more issues in the world, not just America.
Since the strike, I have been contacting other organizations and spreading the news. Hopefully everyone who watched or has heard about what I've done will inspire them to do the same. I am really invested in this, I’m thinking about going on other hunger strikes in the future. Since then, my life has not been the same. All kinds of different people were wanting to contact me, even the president at the time, President Kennedy, contacted me.