We had a month build up on campus for this day. Chicana/o Studies had a teach in on Feb. 3 and began telling our students that today, March 4th the whole State was going to protest.

I couldn’t have paid anyone to make this happen. During my 11 am class I just finished showing them the 10 minute version of “Storm At Valley State” the 1985 documentary that looks at student activism on our campus 41 years ago. I was explaining how many in that generation protested because they demanded more from their country. They expected more for offering their lives and bodies in wars. They expect America to live up to its promise.s And they loved themselves. They felt they deserved more and asked for it. They loved themselves and were moved by love for a better future, like true revolutionaries always are. Moved to act out of love. I asked my students how many loved themselves? How many of you feel you deserve better than what they are offering and cutting away? I asked them if they were ready to start demanding satisfaction.
And like it was a sign from the Goddess, protesting students kicked open the doors out in the hallway and were yelling “Walkout!!!
I looked back at my students and said “They are calling you. Are you going to act? Or be like a good slave and not piss off the master, not rock the boat?”
“WALK OUT” you could hear the students coming closer to our door.
“They are calling you, what u going to do?”
One of my students put his fist in the air and yelled “Walkout” and boom they all jumped up and out the door.
Like I said, I couldn’t have paid for that to be more perfectly timed.

The wait for the big meet up in the quad had various groups walking campus asking other students to ‘walkout.’

One scene that was an ‘only at CSUN’ moment was when a small group of marchers came upon one of the CSUN choir’s impromtu performances they hold in the breezeway of Jerome Richfield. I walked over to see if the choir was really doing their singing thing today, a day of protest. I was hoping they would be doing protest songs.

When the marchers came up on them I half expected the marchers were going to get up in the face of the choir and ask them to join the march and stop the singing. It was the “american idol” generation facing its burgeoning activist other half, would they clash? No.

The choir said “We are singing this one for you.”

The marchers stopped their chanting and listened for a few minutes then, while the choir kept singing, the marchers just turned around and continued on recruiting other students to join them with another chant and marched away.

When 2pm finally came around there were about a core of 300-400 students throughout the quad in front of our library. Speeches were made, people inspired. We lined up on Matador Way and it looked like the 3-400 swelled a little more. Teachers and students from local schools came to join the march. By the time the march hit Prairie we had at least 2,000 people.

At Prairie and Reseda we went south to Nordhoff. Cars were stopped and honking in support. People got out of their cars and were taking pictures and video. There were no negative Nellies to be seen or heard.

As we went East on Nordhoff the long line of protesters was split in half by CFA ‘march leaders.’ These were the adults in charge. As faculty we tend to hang back and support our students, but not take any leadership or guiding roles. We advise before hand and if anything gets crazy, but its the students who are doing this, its theirs. CFA did play a major role in organizing this day of protest on a State level and they obviously did a great job of getting people out. At one point they cut the protest in half by letting half the column proceed down Nordhoff to Zelzah and turning the other half back in to campus at Lindley. I stayed with the front half knowing this was going to be a long walk.

We kept going down Zelzah and stopped briefly at Plummer. Some students tried to sit -down there, but the mass wanted to keep moving. At this point I got my homey Nelson’s djembe from him. He said he was tired and I love drums. I carried and banged that sucker all the way around campus back to Reseda and Prairie where we had Thee Sit Down, you see in the news.

(post script: I tried to upload video here but it says the file is too big. I put it up on my blog

pachucoville if you want to see it.)

I didn’t call for a furlough day because then none of my students would have gone to campus, unless they had other classes, and they would have missed the march and teach in.

The weird thing about it all was that very few of the students knew what to do at a rally or march. Most had never been to a march. They grew up in an era of grotesque lies, conservativism, fear mongering and resistance to dehumanization but had never participated or seen what people did in the streets.

I met with my later class and asked “what will it take to get you angry and into the streets?” none could answer. I hope they come back with something on Wednesday.

Then the other day I was riding with a homegirl and she started telling me about a friend who is not responsible at all. He is into his 40s, keeps getting younger and dumber girlfriends that last less time than the last one, and basically doesn’t give a f@#$. She called him a PETER PAN.  Funny thing is two years ago I began writing a piece about Peter Pans in my life.

Peter Pans or PEDRO PANS, as I titled my piece (and yes I know about the Cuban kids who were called this, but anyways), are men who refuse to grow up. They live at home with parents or in dorm like situations, don’t have no bills, kids, cares or credit. They live day by day. Sometimes they may have a part time job, most times money comes in through alternative economies. They usually party everyday and can sleep in most days. Some work out to stay in shape for the partying, others struggle with weight issues and do little about them. Most believe they have a higher purpose or are sitting/working on a project that they just need ‘this’ to happen in order for it to all come together. They are a jolly bunch, usually the life of the party. They view the typical responsibilities everyone else has as beneath them. They believe they are beyond caring for job, work, relationships with the opposite sex (even though most are lotharios), and see themselves as serving a higher purpose.

Obviously this is not limited to Latino men, most of the recent guy films are about men who need to grow up, step up and get their act together because they got “Knocked Up” and a “Hangover” on “The Pineapple Express” and need to stop being “Funny People” or they may end up being a “40 Year Old Virgin” of life.

I recently had several conversations with other men about this issue of responsibility, standing on your own two feet, being able to support yourself, finding your purpose, keeping a focus and overall being a man in this day and age. Some of these conversations went well, others not so much. I know men with the house, cars, wife, three-four kids, jobs, hobbies, and they love it. I know Pedro Pans and they love it. I kind of fall in the middle of the two and I love my life.

So my dilemma is how do I detach, in order to evolve more, without becoming more of a Pedro Pan?

Ok, here we go.
- It has been around for over 35 years
- It has an eclectic menu that includes: pizza, fish tacos, cheesecake, and lentil soup
- the serve beer too!
- one of their specials is called “The Chicano Special”
- their slogan includes “worth driving for”

tell me….

Day of the Dead by Wendy Carrillo

Beat It like you never heard it before.

With the popularity of Very Be Careful, Santa Cecilia and Buyepongo among MANY other groups, LA is shaping up for cumbia to be the next flavor to blow up.

I know cumbia clubs have existed for a while, so have their artists, but the above mentioned are not playing in exclusive cumbia spaces. They are playing to billingual Chicano/a crowds at local hip spots as well as Grand Performances. On the radio Jeremy Sole on KCRW drops a cumbia like he does at his weekly party, deep in the westside, Afro Funke. The beat is easy to catch, most anyone can dance to it and its plain fun.

Some Cumbia has an electronic element to it which is being played in tracks such as this one by Zizek