Rosh Hashanah - Tashlich - L'shonah Tovah-

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May we learn justice 
without which there is no peace;
may we learn compassion 
without which there is no justice.

---------
------------Tashlich


 
These are the days of awe —
time of inventory----- 
-----and a new beginning
when harvest of what we sowed-----
----- comes in.
(What have we sown 
------of discord and terror?
Where have we fallen short 
------of justice?)

The scales dip and teeter;
there is so much
to discard,
so much to atone.

When our temples stood
we loaded a goat
 -----with our transgressions
 ----------and sent it to the wild.
Now we must search our pockets
for crumbs of our trespasses,
our sins to cast upon the rivers.

The days are upon us
 -----to take stock of our hearts.
 ----------It is time to dust
the images of our household gods, 
-----our teraphim,-
---------------------our lares.




------------© Rafael Jesús González 2019


(Arabesques Review, vol. 3 no . 3, 2007; author’s copyrights) 




 

Que aprendamos justicia 
sin la cual no hay paz;
que aprendamos compasión 
sin la cual no hay justicia.

 --------------- 

-------------Tashlij


 
Estos son los días de temor —
tiempo del inventario
 -----y un nuevo comienzo
cuando la cosecha de lo que sembramos
 -----entra.
(¿Qué hemos sembrado 
------de discordia y terror?
¿Dónde hemos fallado
 -------en la justicia?)

Las balanzas se inclinan y columpian;
hay tanto de que deshacerse,
tanto por lo cual expiar.

Cuando estaban en pie nuestros templos
cargábamos a una cabra
 -----con nuestros pecados 
----------y la echábamos al desierto.
Ahora tenemos que buscar en los bolsillos
las migas de nuestras faltas,
nuestros pecados para echarlos a los ríos.

Están sobre nosotros los días
 -----para hacer inventario del corazón. 
----------Es tiempo de sacudir
las imagines de nuestros dioses domésticos, 
------nuestros térafines,
 ---------------------------nuestros lares.




---------------------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2019

--

Libra: Autumnal Equinox

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-

 
--------------------Libra



Alumbran a la balanza del día y la noche,
el zafiro temprano del amanecer
y el ópalo tardío del atardecer.
Se alza en obelisco de jade, de nefrita
al punto cardinal del aire,
el apoyo del viento,
----y en cada platillo de cobre
se miden el arte y las consecuencias
---(el amor pesa en la ijada
----de la indecisión,
----en los lomos del deseo.)
La alzaprima del otoño
sostiene sobre el caos,
trémulos y vacilantes
----el sentir, el pensar —
-----------amor, belleza, verdad —
sueños, siempre sueños, justos sueños. 



-----------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2019




----------------Libra

 
The balance of day and night
is lit by the early sapphire of dawn
-----and the late opal of dusk.
It rises on obelisk of nephrite, of jade
to the cardinal point of the air,
the lever of the wind,
----and on each copper plate
----are measured art and consequences
--------(love weighs on the back
---------of indecision,
---------on the loins of desire.)
The fulcrum of autumn
holds over chaos
tremulous and irresolute
----feeling, thought —
--------love, beauty, truth —
dreams, always dreams, just dreams.



---          ----------© Rafael Jesús González 2019


-

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An Autumn gift for the world-wide General Strike for the Earth

Obsequio de otoño para la Huelga Mundial para la Tierra:

- 

An Autumn gift for the world-wide General Strike for the Earth:

Consejo para el Equinoccio Otoñal

Andar en equilibrio no es fácil —

       pisar tan ligeramente

       que la hierba no se doble,

       pisar tan firmemente

       que nuestra huella señale

       el camino por la maleza.

En verdad nuestra naturaleza parece

ser sin balance,

       un pie pisando tan ligeramente

       el otro tan firme

              que perdidos en el desierto

              siempre caminamos en círculo.

Hay peores destinos; entonces

aprendamos a caminar el círculo en gozo.

Las estaciones voltean y vuelven

y no hay a donde ir;

       la Tierra es hogar suficiente;

       el camino, demasiado breve,

       a nada nos lleva.

       Para aprender a andar en balance

              practica el baile. 

     
   ------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2019

(Raven Chronicles, Vol. 25, 2017;  derechos reservados del autor)

                                                                  

Advice For The Fall Equinox

Walking in balance is not easy —

       to step so lightly

       the grasses are not bent,

       to step so firmly

       one’s track points

       a way through the thicket.

Indeed it seems our nature to be

off balance,

       one foot stepping so lightly

       one so firmly

              that lost in the desert

              we always walk in a circle.

There are worse fates; let us then

learn to walk the circle in joy.

The seasons turn & return

one upon the other

& there is nowhere to go;

       the Earth is Home enough;

       the walk, all too brief,

       leads Nowhere.

       To learn to walk in balance

              practice the dance.

      -------------        © Rafael Jesús González 2019

(Raven Chronicles, Vol. 25, 2017; author's copyrights)

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reading Pegasus Books Berkeley, Thursday, Oct. 3

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Reading San Rafael Public Library

-

 

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General Strike for the Climate, Friday, September 20

 -

As many of us adults stand idly by as we distress the Earth more and more, the youth of the world have called for a general strike this Friday, September 20 (and actions the seven days following) to confront climate change.

Let us all follow the leadership of the youth whose future it is and join them wherever we are. Find an action nearest you and join them.

We must awake to this global emergency and do what we must to heal the Earth and protect the life she bears. NOTHING, NOTHING IS OF GREATER IMPORTANCE.

--------------The Call 


What can I say to entice you
------to defend the Earth?
Remind you how the sun feels?
The taste of salt, the smell of bay?
a cricket's chirp on a summer night,
the rainbow after rain?
-----What it is to love?
Shall I appeal to your joy
------or to your fear?
Earth can be terrible
in her storms & in her quakes
but she is the measure of any paradise
---------we will ever imagine.
You & I will die all too soon
------but that life will not go on
-----------is beyond accepting.
What can I say to make you love life
enough to act & raise your voice
----------in its defense?




-----------------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2019


(Berkeley Times, November 19, 2015;
author's copyrights.)

Mientras muchos de nosotros los adultos esperamos in hacer nada mientras más y más dañamos a la Tierra, la juventud del mundo han llamado por una huelga general este viernes 20 de septiembre (y acciones los siete días siguientes) para enfrentar cambio climático.

Sigamos el liderazgo de l@s jóvenes cuyo futuro es y unámonos con ell@s dondequiera que estemos. Encuentra acción más cera a ti y únete.

Tenemos que despertar a esta emergencia global y hacer lo que tengamos que hacer para sanar a la Tierra y proteger la vida que sostiene. NADA, NADA ES MÁS IMPORTANTE.

--------------La llamada 


¿Qué puedo decir para incitarte
-------a defender la Tierra?
¿Recordarte como se siente el sol?
¿el sabor de la sal, el olor del laurel?
¿El chirrido de grillo en noche de verano,
el arco iris después de lluvia?
--------¿Lo que es amar?
¿Imploraré a tu goce
-----o a tu pavor?
Puede ser terrible la Tierra
en sus tormentas y sus temblores
pero es la medida de cual paraíso
------imaginemos jamás.
Tú y yo moriremos demasiado pronto
-----pero que no siga la vida
----------es más allá de aceptable.
¿Qué puedo decir para que ames la vida
suficiente para que actúes y alces la voz
-----------en su defensa?




---------------------------------- © Rafael Jesús González 2019


(Berkeley Times, 19 noviembre 2015;
derechos reservados del autor)

 

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full moon: Lilies Under Full Moon

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-------Azucenas bajo luna llena

Los rayos de la luna son azucenas de luz

que el silencio sega para arreglar
en himno de alabanza, canto de amor,
de consuelo, de cuna.
Son azucenas de luz los rayos de la luna
que el silencio arregla en guirnalda
de melodías para encantar el corazón.

--------------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2019

                

 

------Lilies Under Full Moon

The rays of the moon are lilies of light
that silence cuts to arrange
in a hymn of praise, song of love,
of consolation, a lullaby.
Lilies of light are the rays of the moon 
that silence arranges in a garland 
of melodies to enchant the heart.

------------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2019

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September 11

-

Working late, I greet this September 11th, date of grieving memory, with pain and dread.

I have meant to write on the domestic terrorist shooting in my hometown of El Paso, Texas since it happened on the 3rd of August killing 22, wounding 24 men, women, and children, and leaving a great portion of the nation terrified. It has taken this much time for me to process the pain, the fear, the confusion, the rage that I have.

The young terrorist specifically targeted my people (the Mexican, the Chicano, the Central-American, the Latino — whatever label you would give us); the manifesto he left behind leaves no doubt. Our "Latino" communities are terrified: terrified of speaking Spanish in public, of congregating in large groups — of going to school, going to work, going to church, going shopping, walking anywhere.

We are terrified not only of the terrorists that lurk we cannot predict where, but of the police, ICE, officers of the law: the hues of our skin, our Spanish language, our accents of themselves make us targets to be stopped for nothing at all — even though we may have been born in the U.S.A. and elderly, perhaps not even speaking Spanish at all and speaking English with a regular accent.

The most vulnerable of us have no "papers" to protect us and live in much greater fear — fear of being taken at work and leaving our children alone, uncared for, with nowhere to go, terrified; fear of going to school and coming home to a deserted house without parents to take us in their arms.

Many of us at the border have our children wrenched from our arms, taken to separate jails we don't know where. Our children, terrified, confused, wrenched from their mothers', fathers' arms are caged, uncared for, abused, some ill unto death. This is nothing less than torture.

My sleep is often haunted by nightmares; lying in bed mornings, my heart is lacerated imaging the terror, the unspeakable pain of these children, these mothers, fathers (brothers, sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles —kin and friends.) During the day, my mind wanders, imagining such terror and pain.

I think that is what it must have been like for our Jewish brothers and sisters in the years leading up to the full-blown Holocaust in Nazi Germany. What it must have been like for my Indian (Native-American) forebears (hell, our Naive-American brothers and sisters now.) American-Indian blood runs in the vein of most of us "Latinos" — many of our brothers and sisters don't speak Spanish, but only Nahuatl, varying dialects of Maya, Purépecha, or any of a myriad "Indian" tongues. I think of what it must have been like for our enslaved brothers and sisters from Africa, what it must have been like for their descendants in the Jim-Crow period (hell, what it must be for so many now.) And I think what it must be like for our Islamic brothers and sisters.

We are ruled by fascists — a fascist president ignorant and cruel beyond belief who incites terrorism, a Senate and a Supreme Court that enable him — and what advances in democracy we thought we had accomplished since the founding of the country are now under attack and at great risk.

Twelve years ago when I first opened my blog, on September 11 of that year, I posted the entry posted the entry below that now reads alarmingly prophetic. 

*         *       *

The date of September 11 is a day of tragedy for more than one reason.

photo by Marty Lederhandler AP

It was on this day in 2001 that the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York were destroyed bringing in a new era of fascism in the United States and launching the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. Now, the nation is deep in an illegal, immoral, and untenable war making the world infinitely more vulnerable to terrorism by nations (such as the U. S.) and organizations (such as al-Qaeda.) On that day, I wrote:         

Love & Thoughts to my Friends on a Dark Day

Since early this morning when a friend from New England called with the news of the destruction of the World Trade Center towers in New York, I have been in a daze, too stunned to sort out my feelings, my thoughts except for confirmation of my deep abhorrence of violence. Certainly pain and anger are there — and great fear.

I have not been able to get through to my friends in New York nor to my friends in Washington, D.C.; I do not know if they are well or not.

And despite the images on television, there is disbelief. How could it happen here? How could it happen to us? The mightiest contemporary nation, the current most powerful empire is vulnerable. Seeing the images of the twin towers, symbol of the greatest wealth and power on Earth, flaming, smoking, and finally collapsing against the skyline of monoliths that is New York made me think, in the midst of the horror of it all, of Goliaths falling in the plain. The Earth is shaken by their fall; the death, the pain suffered by so many through their fall wrings the heart. I am stunned by the pain of it.

But who the Davids are we do not know. Certainly not heroes to me nor to any one I know; villains rather. Davids in size only. But still, seeing some televised images of jubilation in parts of Palestine/Israel, they must be heroes to some — and to some in other places of the world as well.

Terrorism is a frightful term; even more horrible is its reality. What does it mean? Webster’s New World Dictionary succinctly defines it as: 1) use of terror and violence to intimidate, subjugate, etc., especially as a political weapon or policy; and 2) intimidation and subjugation produced in this way. Terror.

I see those images of jubilation on the television and I wonder what could induce such elation at such destruction, such death, such suffering. Terror. Terror like that in New York today except on a smaller scale, day to day terror at the hands of Israeli soldiers, and terror in response, and then more terror in retaliation — a story without end.

The day to day terror in Iraq with children ill and no medicine with which to treat them, little food to give them. The day to day terror in Nigeria and other parts of Africa. The day to day terror in so many parts of Latin America, of Asia, of everywhere. A policy, a political weapon to subjugate.

And who has most to gain by it? A hundred images come to mind, but a simple, nagging cipher blinks on and off against them all: we in the United States are six percent (6%) of the world’s people and yet we consume sixty percent (60%) of what the Earth gives. (And, we hold the highest proportion of our people in prison.) These are formulas of terror.

And we are vulnerable. And I think — the only protection is justice. The only protection is to be so just, so fair that none would wish us ill. No, not even the gods are so just, but if only we tried. If only we concerned ourselves with sharing the Earth’s wealth with everyone of our brothers and sisters. If only we honored the Earth and protected her so that she might continue to sustain us. If only we honored each other. If only we honored life.

I would like to think that we could respond to this horror in New York and Washington, D.C. with a commitment to justice for the world. Not merely the primitive, crude vengeance and retaliation I hear demanded, but true justice that would put an end to terror, not only the terror such as that of this day in New York and in the Capital, but the day to day terror of hunger, of lack of medicine, lack of shelter, of education, of freedom and the violence all that brings. Terror.

But what I see does not make me hopeful. I am afraid. I am afraid of our institutionalized terrorism, our policies of terror that hold the world in thrall. I am afraid of the man in the office of President of the United States who was not elected into office, afraid of his associates, afraid of the Supreme Court which has broken its trust as impartial interpreter of the law of the land. I am afraid of this President who would destroy the Earth for the profit of it, who insists upon an insane system of nuclear “defense” to further enforce a policy of terror.

I am afraid for the peoples of the world. I am just as afraid for us citizens of this United States. I am afraid that the tragedy of today will be used to justify the destruction of what freedom, what civil liberties we have, of a democracy for which clearly the President of the United States and his ilk have no respect.

I am afraid of Goliaths and of the Davids they breed.

But still, more deeply rooted than my fear is my love of the Earth and of its people and of all our relations. Because of this, I trust that our work toward justice and peace will go on in joy of life and that, for all the darkness, it will prevail.

Berkeley, September 11, 2001

© Rafael Jesús González 2019

--------------- The Towers
------------September 11, 2001


The towers fall as if,
-----seen through crossed eyes,
a Goliath fell brought down by a David.

Behind the myths
-----who of us is the guilty?
---------Who the innocent?
What is the distance
-----between justice and vengeance?

Death is inevitable, not fair.
And when the innocent are caught
in the webs of violence, it is terrible.

May the Earth hold them in rest.
If we would make a monument
worthy of their deaths,
in honor & memory of them,
let us pledge ourselves
----- to freedom,
----- true justice,
------world peace.

For if death be not just
let just be our lives.



----------© Rafael Jesús González 2019


(Abalone Moon, Nov. 6, 2oo7; author's copyrights)

photo by Marty Lederhandler AP

------------Las Torres
---------11 septiembre 2001

Se derriban las torres como
-----si visto por ojos cruzados,
cayera un Goliat abatido por un David.

Detrás de los mitos
-----¿quiénes somos los culpables?
----------¿quiénes los inocentes?
¿Cual es la distancia
------entre la justicia y la venganza?

La muerte es inevitable, no justa.
Y cuando los inocentes caen
en las redes de la violencia, es terrible.

Que la Tierra los tenga en descanso.
Si monumento hiciéramos
digno de sus muertes
en honor y memoria de ellos
comprometámonos
-----a la libertad,
-----a la justicia verdadera,
-----a la paz mundial.

Que si la muerte no es justa,
justas sean nuestras vidas.



----------© Rafael Jesús González 2019


(Abalone Moon, noviembre 6, 2007;
derechos reservados del autor)

New York skyline, 9/11/01

On a more personal level, it was on September 11, 1991 that my beloved friend and comadre, scholar, organizer, activist Guillermina Valdés de Villalva was killed when a Continental Airlines airplane crashed near Houston, Texas. Sick with pain and rage, I wrote:

Huehuecóyotl

---Advertencia De Coyote

-----------------------para Guille

Siempre lucharé por lo bueno,
corazón en el hocico,
un grito en el corazón
y el corazón en el grito.
Por eso anoche bailé,
-----tiré la chancla,
---------wriggled my butt,
--------------meneé el culo
hasta las horas escuincles
de la madrugada
porque tal como a algunos nos toca
hacer penitencia por otros
a otros nos toca hacer
la gracia por los demás
y por eso les prometo
que seguiré meneando el culo
hasta que ya no lo pueda
y mantendré verde el rabo
hasta que me lo tape la tierra.
 

---------© Rafael Jesús González 2019

(Siete escritores comprometidos: obra perfil; Fausto Avendaño, director; Explicación de Textos Literarios vol. 34 anejo 1; diciembre 2007; Dept. of Foreign Languages; California State University Sacramento; derechos reservados del autor.)
 

Guillermina Valdés

---------Coyote’s Notice

--------------------------for Guille

I will always struggle for the good,
heart in the snout,
a cry in the heart
& the heart in the shout.
Thus I danced last night,
-----tiré la chancla,
---------wriggled my butt,
--------------meneé el culo
until the puppy hours
of the morning
because such as it is for some
to do penance for others
for others it is up to us
to make grace for the rest
& so I promise
I will continue to wriggle my butt
until I cannot
& I will keep my tail green
until it is covered by dust.



---------© Rafael Jesús González 2019



It was on September 11, 1973 that the U. S. C.I.A. instigated military coup in Chile overthrew the legally elected and popular government of Salvador Allende initiating an era of brutal dictatorship and bloodshed. President Allende was murdered as was the poet-composer Víctor Jara among thousands of others. The aging poet Pablo Neruda was held under house arrest where he died soon after.

bombing of the Palacio de la Moneda, the Presidential headquarters 

--------Rastro de la gota

----------------------a Pablo Neruda

------------------I

Te recuerdo en Holanda
donde las rosas carecen de olor
y el alma que le diste a la máquina
no conoce a la gente.
Tu vicio es vicio de amar
y en tu lengua hasta el cardo
-----supo dar miel —
hay sangre como la de Federico
-----que sabe doler.
Pero aquí las pupilas son de vidrio
y la desesperación es una gota de agua
que se escurre por los canales dorados,
no de limones sino de hojas muertas.

---------------------II

Hace nueve años que en Holanda
te compuse un verso —
----lleno de agua, hojas secas
----y visión de limones.

Era noviembre —
--------------------es ahora octubre —
el diez cuento mis treinta y ocho
y te has muerto.

Te pienso amapolas y geranios —
el cuero de España y Chile ensangrentado —
hambre, sed,
---------------uvas y luceros.
Hay inventarios en mis huesos
y ortigas en los surcos de mis dedos.

Poeta — me faltan azucenas de consuelo.
------Poeta — me duele Chile
-----------como una punzada en el cerebro.
------Poeta — estoy entumido;
lo único que siento es que has muerto.



-----------------© Rafael Jesús González 2019


------(El hacedor de juegos/The maker of Games;
-------Casa Editorial, San Francisco 1977;
-------derechos reservados del autor.)




---------Track of the Drop

---------------------------to Pablo Neruda

----------------------I

I remember you in Holland
where the roses lack color
& the soul you gave the machine
does not know the people.
Yours is the vice of loving
& on your tongue even the thistle
----knows how to give honey —
there is blood like that of Federico
----that knows how to hurt.
But here the pupils are of glass
& despair is a drop of water
that runs through the canals golden,
not with lemons but dead leaves.

---------------------II

It has been nine years that in Holland,
I wrote you a poem —
------full of water, dry leaves
------& a vision of lemons.

It was November —
--------------------now it is October —
on the tenth I count my thirty-eighth
& you have died.

I think you poppies & geraniums —
the skin of Spain & bloodied Chile —
hunger, thirst,
----------------grapes & stars.
There are inventories in my bones
& nettles in the furrows of my fingers.

Poet — I lack lilies of consolation.
-----Poet — Chile pains me
--------------like a sting in the brain.
-----Poet — I am numb;
the only thing I feel is that you are dead.



--------------© Rafael Jesús González 2019


(Laughing Unicorn, Fall 1980; author’s copyrights)

Pablo Neruda

The death of poet musician Víctor Jara has become a legend, almost a popular myth. It is told that being held in the Stadium of Santiago de Chile among the multitude of political prisoners, he took his guitar and began to sing. His songs being so popular, the other prisoners accompanied him. The guards then grabbed his guitar and stomped it to pieces under their boots. Then with their bayonets they cut off Victor’s hands. According to the story, Victor continued singing until, his blood draining into the sand, he died.

jacket of one of Víctor Jara's albums

-----------Las manos

-----------------------a Víctor Jara

Cada cuerda rota
una de seis flechas pintadas
que el arco de tu voz lanza
contra la injuria —
cada dedo un punzón
en la conciencia

---cada gota una nota contra el silencio.

Caen las aves negras,
sus plumas nieve enlutada,
en la memoria
donde la sangre hierve

---cada gota una nota contra el silencio.

Las manos caen en la arena,
cada una una fuente roja
que corre hacia un mar sin islas

---cada gota una nota contra el silencio.

Hermano, los gorriones se espichan;
se han roto los cántaros del tiempo
y tu canto corre por el mundo entero

---cada gota una nota contra el silencio:

---cuando la sangre crece alas
---se le llama libertad

---cada gota una nota contra el silencio.



--------------© Rafael Jesús González 2019



(Siete escritores comprometidos: obra perfil; Fausto Avendaño, director; Explicación de Textos Literarios vol. 34 anejo 1; diciembre 2007; Dept. of Foreign Languages; California State University Sacramento; derechos reservados del autor.)

Víctor Jara

----------The Hands

----------------------to Víctor Jara


Each broken string
one of six painted arrows
the bow of your voice sends
against outrage —
each finger a lance
in the conscience

---each drop a note against silence.

The black birds fall,
their feathers snow in mourning,
upon memory
where the blood boils

---each drop a note against silence.

The hands fall on the sand,
each a red fountain
that runs toward a sea without islands

---each drop a note against silence.

Brother, the sparrows grow shy;
the jars of time have broken
& your song runs through the world

---each drop a note against silence:

---when the blood grows wings
---it is called freedom

---each drop a note against silence.



------------© Rafael Jesús González 2019



(Second Coming, Vol. 14 no. 1, 1986;
The Montserrat Review #4, 2002;
nominated for Pushcart Prize;
author’s copyrights)

* * *

Now September 11 is to be celebrated as a day of pain and infamy which only our work toward justice and peace may redeem.

-

reading Capital Books, Sacramento Friday, September 20

-

 

-

CLOSE THE CAMPS rally & march, San Francisco, September 16

--

 

Mayor London Breed to Receive Protestors

BAY AREA COALITION DEMANDS: CLOSE THE CAMPS-FREE OUR CHILDREN!

Day of Action to bring awareness of President Trump’s inhumane treatment of immigrants

On Monday, September 16, 2019, Mexican Independence Day, community members from throughout the Bay Area will join together to protest and demand the detention camps be closed, and children be freed from cages. We are outraged at the inhumane conditions that exist at the detention centers. We condemn the criminalization of migrants and refugees who are seeking a better life and we are taking action to bring about real immigration reform.

The recent killing of 22 people in El Paso, Texas, the majority of Mexican descent, points to the direct connection between anti-immigrant sentiments and white-supremacist domestic terrorism. It is deplorable that the President of the United States continues to use inflammatory rhetoric to incite domestic terrorism against what he calls the “invasion” of immigrants. We stand in direct opposition to this divisive hate speech which is responsible for the killing of innocent U.S. citizens and Mexican nationals.

WHEN: Monday September 16th, 11:00 am -6:00pm (Representatives will also be available to speak to the media at the City Hall rally)

WHERE:         11:00 AM - RALLY at 24th & Mission Street (BART Station)

12:00 Noon - March to City Hall (from 24^th BART along Mission Street)

1:00 PM - Rally at City Hall

3:00 PM - Deliver demands to Congresswoman Pelosi & to Senator Feinstein & Protest at ICE office

6:00 PM - Celebration & Rally at 24th & Mission Street

WHO: The protest and rally action is organized by the Coalition to Close the Camps and Free our Children. It is endorsed by many groups and individuals throughout the Bay Area (see partial listing below)

What: Over 500 children will lead the march to City Hall, along with youth, families, faith-based groups, activists, and union members. There will be ceremonial prayers, Danzantes (traditional dancers), Loco Bloco drumming, Brass Liberation Band, and dynamic speaking to demand justice for immigrants. Speakers will describe experiences of immigration and of the oppression under the current administrations racist policies.

Speakers include: S.F. Mayor London Breed, Dr. Estella Garcia, (Instituto Familiar de la Raza), Francisco Herrera (Artist), Parent who lives in SF and son is being detained in Texas Camp, Assemblymember David Chiu (District 17), Woman immigrant from Guatemala, Archbishop King (St. John Coltrane Church), Sarah Sousa (DACA student), Rafael Jesús González (Poet Laureate, Berkeley), Rabbi Jessica Zimmerman Graf + shofar blow, Olga Miranda (SF Labor Council), Erika Hidalgo (ANSWER Coalition), Carol Ehrie (Coalition to Close the Concentration Camps), Roberto Y. Hernandez (A Day Without Immigrants Coalition), Shahid Buttar (candidate for U.S. House CA-12), Committee Cultural Maya Mam (Guatemalan Mayan Dancers), Fabian Maynetto (Party for Socialism and Liberation).

Partial listing of endorsers includes: Mayor London Breed, SF, Assemblymember David Chiu, United Educators of San Francisco, S.F. Labor Council, Coleman Advocates for Children and Youth, Latino Democratic Club, Peace and Freedom Party, San Francisco Latino Parity and Equity Coalition, Mission Economic Development Agency, Council on American-Islamic Relations, SFBA, S.F. Living Wage, La Pena, Oakland Privacy, United to Save the Mission, Mi Familia, Frisco Resistance, Jamestown Community Center, Shahid Buttar, Wallenberg Jewish Democratic Club, Party for Socialism and Liberation - San Francisco, Secure Justice, International Marxist Tendency, SF National Lawyers Guild.

 

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