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Commentary: A Day Without Organizers
By Raj Jayadev, New America Media
NAM Editor's Note: Advocacy groups are scrambling to lead and
channel the energy sparked spontaneously by immigrants in marches
across the country. They risk ruining the intimate, familial nature
of the movement. Raj Jayadev is the editor of Silicon Valley De-Bug
(www.siliconvalleydebug.com), a project of New America Media.
SAN JOSE, Calif.--When people say of the recent immigrant rights
marches, "Everyone and their mama was there," they mean it
literally. The mass demonstrations held across the country have been
remarkable not only for the astonishing numbers -- 30,000 in San
Jose, 50,000 in Atlanta, 100,000 in Phoenix -- but for who is
represented in those numbers: mothers, fathers, teenagers,
grandmothers pushing grandchildren in strollers. This is a movement
of families.
Now organizers and advocates are meeting to figure out how to
channel this social dynamite. There is a sense that spontaneous
social action can last only so long; that "somebody" needs to step
in for it to be sustained, and the energy directed. As Angelica
Salas, executive director of the Coalition for Humane Immigrant
Rights in Los Angeles, told the Washington Post last week, "Our
challenge is to transform this massive movement of people in the
streets into a massive movement of people to the polls."
No offense, but really, who asked her? It is in fact the lack of
identifiable leadership and direction from above that is sustaining
this new movement. That's what has already taken it further than the
advocacy groups trying to "transform" it ever dreamed possible.
The huge turnout at recent marches was not the result of traditional
organizing -- strategy sessions, tactic-evaluation, door-knocking by
organizers. Rather, it was a spontaneous outpouring by children who
wanted to honor their parents' labors; by parents moved by the kids
who walked out of class for them. The sustainability of this
movement lies in those voices determining what's next, and in their
ever-growing acknowledgement of their collective power. The
corralling of this energy by traditional organizers may in fact by
the only thing that can threaten it.
The second round of marches bore the stamp of professional
organizers much more than the first, but those organizers ought not
to take credit for the turnout. People came out on April 10 not
because they were told to, but because they had felt their
collective power on March 24. On that day, the people holding the
signs and pushing the strollers were the same ones who called for
the protest, decided which streets to take, and chose who would
speak. In San Jose, people came out of their houses because they
heard the crowd from their homes or got calls from family members.
The subsequent student walk-outs were the result of teenagers
text-messaging each other and posting messages on MySpace. The sense
of celebration at the marches arose when people who had previously
been told only of their limitations in this country decided their
own fate, if only for a day.
Without the ability to vote, without a single lobbyist, a
disenfranchised people in America have changed bills in Congress and
set the terms for a national political conversation. The momentum of
this movement is intimate and familial. People are looking out for
their relatives, not dreaming of becoming a voting bloc. "Today we
march, tomorrow we vote" actually minimizes what is happening. This
is bigger than the ballot box. It is a reshaping of what active
citizenship in America means.
If organizers really want to help out, the best thing to do is to
get out of the way. The energy and vision is coming from within the
movement anyhow --from people knowing and trusting each other. This
is what was most amazing about the march in San Jose -- people
hop-scotched from side to side during the march, calling out to
uncles, aunties and neighbors.
It provided a sharp contest to the last major protest I had been to,
at the World Trade Organization gathering in Seattle. There, no one
knew anybody and everyone wore face masks. After breaking a whole
lot of stuff, 70,000 protestors left Seattle, never to speak to one
another again. After today's immigrant marches, everyone walks back
to the same homes. The infrastructure of sustainability is built in.
The next big protest, planned for May 1, is supposed be a "Day
Without Immigrants" -- a job and economic boycott. If the media and
politicians really want to know what to expect on May 1, they
shouldn't be going through their Rolodex of executive directors or
union communications departments. They should be asking the day
laborer in the parking lot of Home Depot in Los Angeles, or the
grandmother on her way back from church in Phoenix. Regardless of
what advocacy organizations decide to do, the success or failure of
this effort will come down to families sitting down at dinner tables
on April 30 and deciding whether or not they're going to work the
next day.
On April 10, when the thousands had reached City Hall at the end of
the march in San Jose, while the organizers were busy trying to get
their political speakers lined up and getting the audio equipment
working, everyone was patient with them. All heads were turned in
another direction anyhow, watching and clapping along with a
spontaneous dance circle that erupted around a single man with a
drum.
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