Category: Cesar Chavez

Cesar Chavez, Cesar's Last Fast, Dr. Lorena Parlee, Farmworker Rights, Latinos in film, Richard Perez, UFW, Wisdom

Cesar’s Last Fast

Mona Alvarado Frazier
 “One man taking on Goliath like forces in a fight for social justice.”*
This article is a two part series:

A couple of weeks ago I chatted with a friend about the need for more films by Latino filmmakers that highlight Latino accomplishments. This was on the heels of the Katt Williams tirade and the frustration of reading about a movie (see my post)  which had Robert Duval playing a main character, Mr. Crawford,  based on real life pro golfer, Johnny Arreaga.  This had me thinking how the Latino community can get involved in pushing for more Latino films with Latino actors by Latino filmmakers and producers.

My friend mentioned filmmaker *Richard Ray Perez’s documentary, titled “Cesar’s Last Fast.” The film, structured around Chavez’s 1988 thirty-six day fast, calls attention to Cesar’s spiritual commitment, values, and humanity. There are eighty-five hours of never seen before footage about this fast, which includes Martin Sheen, Edward James Olmos, Ethel Kennedy, Jesse Jackson, and several other people close to César Chavez.


His political activism and leadership, grounded in non-violence, followed the teachings of Gandhi, Nehru and Martin Luther King. It was Chavez, who coined the phrase “Si, se puede.” His actions were a living example of a life dedicated to fighting for people who are among the poorest.

In my interview with Richard Perez, his passion for bringing Cesar’s spiritual commitment to light is evident. His goal is to illustrate how one person can better society through personal sacrifices. “César Chavez had the type of commitment few people have had in history. We hope to raise his profile, not as an ethnic labor leader, but as a spiritual leader. He was an incredibly unique man…his commitment has been largely overlooked.”  

How Mr. Perez came upon this project is amazing for the connections to his past and present.
“My fellow producer … likes to say that I was destined to make this film. My father was a migrant farm worker for 22 years…My aunts and uncles, his siblings were all farm workers, too. And when I was 4 years old, attending Head Start in…San Fernando … there were some (CSUN) Chicano students who volunteer(ed) at the Head Start… about 1969, 1970… I noticed one day that one of those Chicano volunteers was taking his grapes out of the fruit cocktail out of the lunch that we got, the sort of free government lunch.

I asked him, ‘Oh, why are you doing that?’ And he said, ‘Well, because, the people who pick the grapes are treated very poorly by their bosses. They get paid very little money. They often have to live in shacks. If they complain, they get fired. It’s just a very, very hard job, and their bosses treat them horribly.’

I remember looking down at my grapes in my fruit cocktail and realizing that all of a sudden they looked very, very ugly. So I started picking the grapes out of my fruit cocktail. And pretty soon the rest of the students sitting at that table all did the same, and for the rest of the year none of us ate the grapes in our fruit cocktails that were in our lunch.”

Twenty some years later, Mr. Perez made a proposal to the César Chavez Foundation to make a documentary. They couldn’t give exclusive agreement because a similar project was in the works by filmmaker Lorena Parlee, PhD., Chavez’s Press Secretary. Dr. Parlee was a Professor of Mexican and Chicano History at the University of California’s Santa Barbara, Irvine and San Diego campuses. She had exclusive rights but asked if Perez would like to collaborate, but he was working on another project and said he could it in six months. He didn’t hear from her and months later, he received a telephone call from Dr. Parlee’s family. She had died from breast cancer and left instructions to contact Mr. Perez and give him the private videotapes to finish the project.

Mr. Perez and fellow filmmaker Molly O’Brien reviewed the footage and decided to focus on how he inspired a generation of people to participate in the struggle for social justice. They are close to two thirds completed and need to raise money to continue filming and editing this documentary.

They have coordinated a Kickstarter Campaign, a crowd funding method of raising funds. The campaign will launch on September 25, 2011, with a 60-day run. The goal is to raise $20,000. Click on this link to see a one-minute trailer and go to www.cesarlastfast.com for more information. Like them on Facebook too. After all, it takes a community.
Boycotts, Cesar Chavez, Chingonas, Faith, Family, Strong Women, Wisdom

Remembering Cesar Chavez and My Mom

Mona Alvarado Frazier

  

                                                                                

I love this photo. The black Aztec eagle symbolizing la causa is so familiar. Every time I see it I not only think of Cesar Chavez, but also of  my mother. I was in grammar school the first time I heard of boycotts, farmworker rights, and la causa. My mom was in night school at Ventura College and went to community meetings at the CSO building. 

One weekend she packed her bags and took off to Delano with several of her younger classmates and community organizers to participate in a march. When she came back she talked with a fervor about Cesar Chavez and farmworker rights. “Did you know he lived in Oxnard? Right here in La Colonia.”  His speeches moved her, she could relate, she embraced his words of “Si se puede.”

Mom was a migrant worker from the time she was a toddler playing  under the sombra of the vineyards until she was fifteen and cutting her hands on the thorny brambles of the cotton bushes, moving from place to place first with her parents, then with her tios when they both died. She hated that her education was interrupted and for that she never wanted to work in the fields again.

Her participation in la causa and community meetings were fodder for several arguments with my uncles. “What the hell are you doing, going to these meetings, isn’t it bad enough you go to night school, you’re never with your kids…”

That rang true, but she wasn’t gone because she was in a bar or with some man, we kids knew that. No one talked stuff about our mom like they did about one of the moms down the street. But sometimes she crumpled under their barrage of words, other times she let loose on them. Whatever happened though, my uncles and their wives were there for us, lending Mom money, bringing us food, and taking care of us.

Years later, when I was in high school we had renewed arguments, this time both my mom and I harangued our relatives. “We’re boycotting Coors, switch beers,” we’d say whenever they visited. “We thought it was just grapes,” they’d yell and add, ‘que la chingada,‘ for emphasis. It took a year of confronting them every time they popped open a Coors, but they stopped buying the brand.

In college I remember boycotting Safeway, standing in picket lines in Santa Barbara, and waving that red flag. By this time my cousin was involved in the Brown Berets and my mom was busy marching for a community pool in La Colonia, addressing workplace issues, and working on her BA at a university. My uncles noted the photos of the Kennedy’s, Cesar Chavez, and the Pope on the walls of our home. ” Is this is why you go to college?”

When Cesar Chavez died Mom went to Delano and paid her respects with 50,000 other people and mourned the loss of the great man who inspired her and gave her the three words she often repeats whenever we get discouraged. 

“Si se puedes,” she says, yes you can. And when I see that iconic flag, I hear those words, remember those sacrifices, and think of Cesar Chavez and my mom.