Resistance moon: A song amid so much noise

When it comes to repressive white supremacist governments, the Afrikaners got nothing on the likes of Texas and Arizona. The executive and legislative branches of both of those states are dedicated to keeping the Crow in Jim Crow, and to ensuring that Latinos keep their place, which is in the fields and bussing restaurant tables, and not in schools, in the professions or in government.

In 2010, the Arizona lege passed Senate Bill 1070, known grandiosely as the “Support Our Law Enforcement and Safe Neighborhoods Act”. Its purpose was basically to allow law enforcement personnel to demand that any person stopped for questioning produce papers that show his or her immigration status. In theory this could be any person stopped for any reason; in practice it’s any person not white (and specifically any person looking Latino) stopped for any reason. It turns state and local cops into extensions of La Migra.

Bugger the Constitutional protection against unreasonable search and seizure; it’s all “Papiere, bitte.” There were multiple suits filed against SB 1070, and in 2012 the Supreme Court upheld the provision requiring immigration status checks during stops, but struck three other provisions.

I expect that with the Kleptocrat’s appointment to SCOTUS, this sort of thing will be revisited.

Francisco X. Alarcón was born in Wilmington, California (next to Long Beach). At age six, he moved with his family to Guadalajara, where he learned to love language by transcribing his grandmother’s ballads from Nahuatl. He returned to Los Angeles, studies at Cal State Long Beach, and then got an MA from Stanford. A Fulbright Fellowship took him to Mexico City, where he discovered Aztec incantations, and met the man he described as his soul mate, poet Elías Nandino.

All this gave Alarcón a robust poetic language to turn to topics that touched his heart.

Back in California, with two other poets, Alarcón founded Las Cuarto Espinas, the first gay Chicano poets collective. He also taught at UC Davis. When nine Chicano students chained themselves to the Arizona Capitol in protest of SB 1070, Alarcón wrote “For the Capitol Nine” to celebrate their action.

carnalitos

y carnalitas

brothers

and sisters:

from afar

we can hear

your heart beats

they are

the drums

of the Earth

our people

follow closely

your steps

as warriors

of justice

and peace

you take on

the Beast

of hatred

the unlawful

police enforcement

of discrimination

chain yourselves

to the doors

of the State Capitol

so that terror

will not leak out

to our streets

your voices

your actions

your courage

can’t be taken

way from us

and put in jail

you are nine

young warriors

like nine sky stars

you are the hope

the best dreams

of our nation

your faces

are radiant

as the Sun

they will break

this dark night

for a new day

yes, carnalitas

and carnalitos:

all our sisters

all our brothers

need no papers

to prove once

and for all

“we are humans

just like you are–

we are not criminals”

our plea comes to

“No to criminalization!

Yes to legalization!”

The Gauleiter from Alabama, currently the US Attorney General, is unlikely to grasp this message, any more than most of those in the Arizona government (including the reincarnation of Ilse Koch who sits in the governor’s mansion). Their drums are entirely different, and they drown out any sound of human heartbeats.

However, for the millions of Americans who have evolved beyond those swirling around the Kleptocrat, Alarcón’s words resonate. On his Facebook page, before he died a year ago, he welcomed other poets speaking out against SB 1070. Here’s his “Poetic Manifesto” to them, which I really, really like.

Because each poem—like each march, each act of generosity, each refusal to accept the vile nihilism that has reached out from the dark places—is indeed an act of faith, and an expression of power.

“Poetic Manifesto”
to “Poets Responding to SB 1070”

each poem
is an act of faith

in the power
of the Word

a flower passed
hand to hand

and rooted
in the heart

a prayer/chant
lightning the night

a song amid
so much noise

a murmur
of tree branches

at the very edge
of the big desert

breaking down
the borders of despair

sowing the seeds
of renewed hope

each poem is
a call for action

is saying “yes”
to the rule of “no”

a defiance
to social silence

building trust
in response to fear

a testimony
of the human soul

recognizing
that in spite all

our differences
and peculiarities

we all breathe
love and dream

celebrate and suffer
under the same one Sun

And here it is in Spanish:

cada poema
es un acto de fe

en el poder
de la Palabra

una flor cedida
de mano a mano

y enraizada
en el corazón

una oración/canto
iluminando la noche

una canción
entre tanto ruido

un murmullo
de ramas de árbol

al mero filo
del gran desierto

rompiendo las fronteras
de la desesperanza

plantando las semillas
de la renovada esperanza

cada poema
es un llamado a la acción

es decir “sí”
al régimen del “no”

un desafío
al silencio social

construyendo confianza
en respuesta al temor

un testimonio
del alma humana

reconociendo
que a pesar de todas

nuestras diferencias
y peculiaridades

todos respiramos
amamos y soñamos

celebramos y sufrimos
bajo un mismo Sol