Lupita Romero
El plan de inmigración de Bernie Sanders: una respuesta desde la primera línea de lucha
Vivo en Queens, Nueva York, uno de los lugares más diversos en el país. Era tan solo una niña recién llegada de México cuando los eventos del 11 de septiembre sucedieron e introdujeron un periodo de militarización social disfrazado en discurso de “seguridad nacional.” Entre los asquerososataques racistas por parte del partido republicano y el pretendido apoyo de los funcionarios demócratas, la voz de inmigrantes indocumentados generalmente ha sido ignorada, particularmente cuando nuestra voz no se alinea con la de los demócratas o si vamos más allá de simplemente registrar a nuestra comunidad documentada para que voten “azul.” Esta era ha sido efectivamente marcada por la represión y el chivo expiatorio de las comunidades inmigrantes.
The continental repression of Central Americans: interview with Víctor Interiano
I feel that within the imagination of most people who are neither Salvadoran, of Salvadoran descent, or Central American, El Salvador as a nation, people, and culture is a blank book with only four bookmarks for reference: the civil war, present-day mass migration, MS-13, and pupusas.
One of the greatest misconceptions and purposeful misrepresentations that has been constructed around El Salvador (and in general, Guatemala and Honduras) is a perpetual and contradictory dichotomy of simultaneous victimhood and criminality.
In the United States we are either pitiable victims of war, political repression, or poverty as long as we remain within our lands. But the moment we migrate, we become MS-13 terrorists and invaders that merit no asylum.
What is known about Salvadoran history and culture, even among progressive or leftist circles in the U.S., is largely informed from solidarity work around the 1980s civil war and interactions (between mostly white college students) and representatives of various liberation fronts.
Today, at times, it feels like many of our friends and allies still don’t know us.
This characteristic of being unknowable is not of our choosing or making. It is an unfortunate side-effect of the willful ignorance that comes with being absorbed into and propagating the hegemonic white supremacist culture of the United States.
Which is unfortunate, because to know us is to understand that Salvadorans are born fighters. Resistance is in our blood, from the anticolonial rebellion led by Anastasio Aquino in the 19th century, to the 1932 Indigenous Uprising, to the 1944 National Strike that brought down a dictatorship; we are a people in continuous mobilization for justice.
Black Beans: Afromexican and Blaxican music to listen to year round
The history of Blackness in the Americas is deep rooted, even while largely dismissed by official institutions and national governments. The musical and political exchange between Black and Mexican peoples throughout history and despite borders, has also resulted in many beloved music genres, from Son Jarocho to Cumbia, Rock and Hip-Hop.
This playlists includes Son Jarocho, Cumbia, Ballads, and Hip Hop from and influenced by AfroMexican and Blaxican music in the US and Mexico.
Abuelo’s truck
“Babe, what time are your parents coming?” Julian says to me while leaning over my shoulder from the side of the bed, his dark wavy hair falling over his big brown eyes.
He’s been up for two and a half hours already, fed our two cats and a dog, made us coffee, and a to do list for the day. He lays down next to me and waits for me to wake up.
“Too early.” I say half asleep, scrunching my face to the light. “I need to text my dad.”
They are coming at 10am, as in, five minutes away. I brush my teeth and we head down, get in the car and say our hellos.
“Hola Juan. Hola Yka” says Julian as he gets in the car.
Bernie Sanders’s immigration plan: a response from the front-lines of struggle
I live in Queens, New York, one of the most diverse areas in the country. I arrived from Mexico as a child in the post 9/11 period of social militarization, carried out under the veil of “national security”. This era has been marked by scapegoating and repression. Between Republican’s nauseatingly racist attacks on our civil rights and the shallow support of establishment Democrats, the voice of undocumented immigrants is ignored in elections if it does not fall in line behind the Democratic Party, or if we go beyond merely focusing our efforts to register our documented community to vote “blue”.
Despite being taxpayers, we are not allowed to vote, run for office or donate to, fund-raise, or directly campaign for candidates in most local elections and in no state or federal elections. For this reason, civil society and immigrant rights organizations are constrained to waging limited legal challenges and legislative reforms that rely on building alliance with Democrats at the cost of independent action and accountability to the larger community. This marginalization in the electoral arena
