The Capitol Existe y Resiste

Hector Rico

Para todxs lxs compas latinoamericanxs, 

Room 317. Maximum occupancy: anywhere between 30 and 50 people. Doors open. High heels click-clack as they walk in. Blazers and ties swing by. Legislative aids brush into the room and lobbyists shake each other’s hands. Interns walk towards the leather-padded chairs and tap on the shoulders of consultants and chiefs of staff. Compas from anywhere between Tijuana, South Central, Jalisco, and beyond proudly show up. Their skins shine beautiful shades of bronze as we make visible the struggles of our ancestors, of our raza who died in the fields, en la pizca, in the lands south of the Unitedstatesian border; nuestra raza que domó a La Bestia, y con piernas que respiran veneno de serpiente, siguen marchando pa’l norte. 

Permítame explicarle: 

Yet, as the winds of past revolutions elevate the flags of our successes and we convene with the California Latino Capitol Association,  the memory of what happened three days ago comes about. The deplorable remembrance of bloodshed abruptly invaded my thoughts. It is hard to ignore the fact that, on Sunday, seven folx were stabbed in the Capitol. The confrontation happened between white nationalists and neo-Nazis against members of By Any Means Necessary (BAMN) and other counter-protesters. In Amerika, nazis get papers that legally justify their right to gather in the spaces of power to blurt their hatred and animosity. Simultaneously, the undocumented, who contribute approximately $12 billion yearly, have to withstand living in a land that invalidates their existence, defies their identities, and usurps their freedom by negating them los papeles. Latinxs have to 

I see the roses in the concrete cracks. También puedo observar cómo Las Tres Hermanas crecen de la tierra, esta tierra que es tan nuestra como de cualquier otra persona. Este estado que lo usurparon blancos puños españoles y gachupines, este estado que pasó de las resilientes manos de bronce, de lxs hijxs del maíz, y que ahora lo operan personas con anglosajones nombres monosilábicos. 

Unanticipatedly, Sacrilege; 

the Sabbath was transgressed.

Nos cierran los libros y nos abren las rejas. 

En el golden esteit el sol brilla para todxs, 

pero sólo a algunos quema, 

Y nuestra piel morena 

en este país 

existe porque resiste.