By Franciso “Chavo Romero”
They call me El Chavo, and I was born and raised on the coastal city of Chiques (aka Oxnard, CA), territorio ocupado del Pueblo Chumash.
I am an organizer in the barrio… organizando spaces of resistance with la gente de abajo y a la izquierda against repression in all its forms. Soy indigena, descendant of various pueblos orginarios on this continent, Guachichile, Juchipila, Coahuila roots. Mexicano, cien porciento. Aqui estamos..y no nos vamos.
I taught middle school math and reading for 10 years, now I currently am the Events Coordinator at the Acuña Gallery and Cultural Center at Cafe on “A” in Downtown Oxnard.
As part of my commitment as a community organizer and activist I organize with Unión del Barrio and serve on the Raza Press and Media Association Editorial Board and on the Witness for Peace Southwest Regional Board and an active participant in the Todo Poder al Pueblo Collective.
The following poem was inspired by a report published last week by the organization No More Deaths. It is a report that details the “abuse, negligence and dehumanization of migrants as part of the institutional culture of the U.S. Border Patrol…” I would like everyone to read this report, called Culture of Cruelty. I hope it makes us think, get together, organize and fight these catastrophic violations. We are one people, Without Borders!
-Chavo From the occupied territories of the Chumash People
El siguiente poema fue inspirado por un reporte que se publicó la semana pasada por la organización No Mas Muertes. Es un reporte que detalla sobre el “abuso, negligencia y deshumanización de migrantes que es parte de la cultura institucional de la patrulla fronteriza…” Quiero que todos lean este reporte, nombrada Cultura de Crueldad – Espero que nos ponga a pensar, después a reunirnos, organizarnos y luchar contra estas violaciones catastróficas. Somos un pueblo, Sin Fronteras!
~Chavo Desde los territorios ocupados del pueblo Chumash
La Gotita Sobre el Acero (English translation below)
Tranquilamente penetra el acero, Las gotitas de sus llantos, Oxidándose sobre los siglos,
Cultura de crueldad e impunidad. Los agentes brutales maltratan, Gritándole y burlándose con abuso psicológico,
“Que se muera!”
Tirada y entumecida sobre la celda, Manos detrás sintiendo el frió del metal, Penetrando y picando sus huesos,
Una gotita de sangre, Penetra el acero.
Despierta con estómago retorcido, Come galletitas insípidas y sin sabor, Asquerosas condiciones apestan a heces y orín,
Aire frio congela su alma, Sin cobija y sin dignidad, Descalza con ampollas en el corazón, Enroscándose como un bebe,
Lagrimitas chocan con el concreto, Cierra sus bellos ojos, Soñando de su querido pueblito, En el pie de la montaña.
Una gotita de sangre, Penetro el acero.
The Droplet Upon Steel
Quietly penetrating the steel, The droplets of her cries, Rust over the centuries.
Culture of cruelty and impunity.
The brutal agents mistreat, Shouting and laughing with psychological abuse,
“Die!
Thrown and numb in the cell, Hands behind feeling the cold of the metal. Penetrating and biting her bones,
A droplet of blood, It penetrates the steel.
Waking up with stomach twisted, Eating crackers bland and tasteless, Filthy conditions stink of feces and urine. Cold air freezes her soul,
Without a blanket and without dignity, Barefoot with blisters in her heart. Curling like a baby,
Tears collide with the concrete. Closing her beautiful eyes, Dreaming of her beloved town, At the foot of the mountain.
A droplet of blood. Penetrates the steel.
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