As I was reworking my memoir I came upon a section in which I dissect the Chicano Movement's impact on my life, and I was reminded of why at a gut level I was more partial to it than the traditional civil right movement. One of the things that I found difficult to bear in the traditional civil rights movement--which in this case would be the black civil right movement--was its concern with not offending white society.
I loved Martin Luther King's inspiring rhetoric and I often agreed that everyone needed to be called to be part of the struggle, but there were times in which his and other civil right leaders' rhetoric was simply wrong historically, and said to appease the white man. I am just as troubled today when President Obama speaks of how this nation "has always been just" when it deals with the rest of the world, or how our actions have "always had the highest ideals". Does the man really believe that? If he does, then he misread American history. I don't deny that there have been--as in every nation--great leaders and great moments. And I admit that no one is perfect and we should be careful how we judge human beings as it is with the same measure that we will be judged, and maybe we won't do as well either. But I think that we only truly change when we are honest with ourselves about our history.
Mormons are currently going through a phase of revisiting and reanalyzing their history and it is not comfortable at all, but it is clearing up a lot of bad history. When we deal with history as it is, it serves as a pruning phase for our ideals and our goals. In American society we rarely do it at the "public level"--mostly in academic works--and in these times there are even fewer courageous enough to try to do it. President Obama came into office talking as if he wanted to do it but has so far failed miserably at it. But then, if we had cloely listened to his 2004 "blue states, red states" speech, we would have known why. As inspiring as it was, it was fundamentally wrong; maybe not in its aspirations but surely in its assessment of American history. America has always been a divided nation whether by religion, politics, class, race, etc.
The Chicano critique was that it had always been a nation consumed by materialism, too much individualism, too warlike, too arrogant, too selfish, and too anti-others not of this land, and even many within its borders. I was reminded, as I wrote this, about an article I read several years ago about the agency in charge of using American dollars to help developing countries deal with their divided citizenries. The article added that most if not all the solutions the agency suggested--protection of minorities, power-sharing among the different groups, gender equality, land distribution and fair economic play--were all ideas rejected or never implemented in this country. It reminded me of the Chicano critique that America was a beacon whose light often hid the horrid darkness that lay behind it.
Chicanismo would be a failed political experiment--though much good came from it--but its critique of American society was pretty accurate. It questioned American ideals, white people's motives, and this nation's solutions to the world's problems. It's critique was never truly ideological but rather communitarian. A poster that circulated during those times had a picture of a hand and carried a caption that said, "una mano no se lava sola" (one hand can't wash itself). A cartoon that came out of a Chicano Movement group in San Diego, had the drawing of a tatooed cholo who looked doped-up and in a caption asked the question, "Hey stupid, what have you done for your people lately?"
The Movement was a call for everyone to take responsibility for making the barrios a better place to live, not to leave. It called for personal responsibility and for being responsible for others. It was not about having the "same opportunities" as others and simply running with them as some in American society teach us even today. We were about building a blossoming community way before today's progressives' urban gardens, ride sharing, block parties, and community art.
Chicanismo was about taking care of the youth and keeping families together. And if you believed in that it didn't matter if you were gay or straight, moreno or muy blanco, whether you spoke good Spanish or not. Chicanismo failed because it had many contradictions within it, and failed to address many internal problems--including those of gender equality and individual goals--but its aspirations were more noble that today's politics and its critiques less self-serving than those of many of today's professional civil libertarians who depend on their proximity to power for their "careers".
The critique continues to resonate with me because it parallels the critique I have about American society as a religious person who believes in community while respecting individual privacy and those much needed individual yearnings. While I was a "victim" of Chicano Movement politics, I simpy accepted it as the result of the frailties of man and the turmoil of secular politics, and not the aspirations of a people in struggle. Yes, I was naive but it was better than being callous or worse, fully gullible to an unfair society.
As I do research for my biography on one of the great intellectual precursors of that Movement I am reminded that in my youth I believed in something quite inspirational, and something that meshed well with my Mormon communitarian ideals. I may add that both are still besieged by the ugly side of American Exceptionalism, though admittedly both were/are in one form or another a byproduct. Revisiting the Chicano Movement reminds me that we are constantly in struggle to find the best in ourselves, even when we have to search for it in the annals of history.
