Sal Si Puedes (Escape If You Can): Cesar Chavez and the New American Revolution
Author
: PETER MATTHIESSEN
Subject
: Labor leaders-United States-Biography. 3ยท Mexican
Americans--Biography, Mencan American agricultural laborers-History, Agricultural laborers-Labor unions
Publisher
: University of California Press
Summary :"ThE rich have money-and the poor have time."
Those were the words of Cesar Chavez in 1991, two years
before his death. Is it sheer fancy to suggest that this sentence
alone summarizes the dominant concerns of his life?
Chavez's life was defined by patience. Patience was his
weapon against the grape owners and the Teamsters, against
the abuse of the downcast. He had plenty of patience, much
more than a normal person, and it was proven in his nonviolent
marches, fasts, and petitions. "We don't have to win this
year or next year or even the year after that," he told his followers.
'We'll just keep plugging away, day after day.... We
will never give up. We have nothing else to do with our lives
except to continue in this nonviolent fight."
Of course, there is such a thing as too much patience.
How long will it take for Chavez's message to penetrate the
American psyche? He's been dead for almost a decade. His
name and face adorn schools and public parks. He pops up
in advertisements for Macintosh computers, along with John Lennon and the Dalai Lama-"Think Different"! But these
ghostlike appearances are empty of all ideological significance:
it's a tame Chavez, not the quixotic knight he was; a
brand name, as disposable as any celebrity in Hollywood.
My generation is too young to have witnessed Chavez's
odyssey from obSCUrity to legend. My appreciation for his
courage and forbearance came indirectly. I learned about
him from books and documentaries. Every reference to him
was cloaked in an aura of sanctity. But as with most saints, it
was hard to figure out exactly what he had done on the road
to beatitude. No doubt Chavez was the most important Hispanic
American political figure of the twentieth century. But
for someone like me, born at the apex of his career, outside
the United States, it was almost impossible to lift him from
the junk box where icons are stored away and reinsert him
into history. Somehow Chavez the man had become Chavez
the statue: pigeons sat motionless on his nose and hands, his
beautiful bronze skin corroded by the passing of time.
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