OPINION
Lovingly fighting for a more just world
by JOAQUÍN RODRÍGUEZ
October 14, 2024
In the United States, National Hispanic Heritage Month (NHHM), celebrated each year beginning on September 15 and going through October 15, is an opportunity to honor and uplift Hispanic and Latine people’s experiences in our country and our communities – and our contributions. This recognition is important for Hispanic Americans because we are often lost in the margins of history. But our stories are so much more.
For me, NHHM is a way to honor the contributions my family made to our community and country as agricultural workers, factory workers, sanitation workers, tradespeople, public service workers, healthcare professionals, educators, and as members of the armed forces. I think of my family who are no longer with me and how they taught me to be proud of who I am and to celebrate our rich cultural history, a history that reflects the histories of so many Hispanic and Latine people in the United States.
I come from a family of migrant farm workers, with deep roots in what is now Texas. Our indigenous heritage predates the arrival of Europeans in the Americans. Texas itself derives its name from the indigenous word táysha’ from the Caddoan language of the Hasinai people, a word which translates to “friends” or “allies.” Our indigeneity has been obscured, both through European colonization and US classification of all non-white Texans, all the indigenous Texans, as Mexicans post-Civil War, a misperception which continues to this day. Our family story is similar to many others from rural areas throughout our country.
Rodríguez’s great grandparents with their children outside the family home; his grandmother is the woman on the left. The house was purchased after Rodríguez’s great-uncles were drafted in WWII so they wouldn’t lose touch with each other when they returned.
My father’s family followed the agricultural season between West Texas and Alabama, starting and ending with picking cotton. My mother’s family followed the agricultural seasons from South Texas throughout the midwest ending in Michigan. The work was long, grueling and unforgiving in inhospitable parts of our country, where resources were scarce and opportunities were limited. I am grateful for the sacrifices made by my ancestors because I am the first generation in my family to have never worked in the fields. They survived and endured so my cousins and I could, one day, thrive. It is humbling and, at times, overwhelming to know that what my Grandparents and Great Grandparents dreamed for their family has become my reality.
My grandmother would often share stories with me around her dinner table about those challenging times. Times were tough but she fondly remembered how the community looked out for each other, sustained by love and joy.. She would recount how my Great Grandfather would often play the violin for my Great Grandmother while she prepared breakfast for her nine sons before they would leave to work the fields. She shared how she would work at home until her brothers returned from the fields to play music around the dinner table until supper was served. She told me how her brothers decided to buy the family house after they were drafted in WWII so they wouldn’t lose track of each other like they almost did in WWI.
It was thanks to their good union jobs working for the auto factories in Michigan that could afford to buy the family home. The dinner table is where I learned not only our family’s history, but the often untold history of our contributions to our country.
In thinking of our shared history, I can’t help but think of our place in time and how we serve as a bridge between what was and what will be. I think of the sacrifices that were made by so many people to ensure our dignity and respect as working people. I also think of my grandmother and how she challenged us to act with compassion and to meet hate with love and joy. I think of how she reminded us of the sacrifices that were made for a more just world. And that it’s our responsibility to continue to lovingly fight for a more just world, to fight for a world where every shade of beautiful, from every walk of life, has not only the freedom of choice but the capacity to act on that choice. I think about how active my grandmother was in her community and how she made sure she voted in every election, no matter how far the polls had moved since the last election in Texas.
With that spirit, I want to uplift the important work our constituency groups do in our community, and ask that if you are not a member of LCLAA, that you join today. I also ask that you make a plan to vote on or before November 5th and plug into our movement’s work electing worker champions and defeating anti-worker ballot initiatives.
Voting ensures that our voices are heard and can significantly influence policies that directly impact our communities, such as immigration, education, and healthcare. Our right to vote was fought for by the generations of Latine and Hispanic Americans that came before us in hopes of promoting a more inclusive democracy, one where all working people are uplifted.
