I am Joaquín: Rodolfo "Corky" Gonzales XICANO

Yo soy Joaquín, 

perdido en un mundo de confusión: 

I am Joaquín, lost in a world of confusion, 

caught up in the whirl of a gringo society, 

confused by the rules, scorned by attitudes, 

suppressed by manipulation, and destroyed by modern society. 

My fathers have lost the economic battle 

and won the struggle of cultural survival. 

And now! I must choose between the paradox of 

victory of the spirit, despite physical hunger, 

or to exist in the grasp of American social neurosis, 

sterilization of the soul and a full stomach. 

Yes, I have come a long way to nowhere, 

unwillingly dragged by that monstrous, technical, 

industrial giant called Progress and Anglo success.... 

I look at myself. 

I watch my brothers. 

I shed tears of sorrow. I sow seeds of hate. 

I withdraw to the safety within the circle of life -- 

MY OWN PEOPLE 

I am Cuauhtémoc, proud and noble, 

leader of men, king of an empire civilized 

beyond the dreams of the gachupín Cortés, 

who also is the blood, the image of myself. 

I am the Maya prince. 

I am Nezahualcóyotl, great leader of the Chichimecas. 

I am the sword and flame of Cortes the despot 

And I am the eagle and serpent of the Aztec civilization. 

I owned the land as far as the eye 

could see under the Crown of Spain, 

and I toiled on my Earth and gave my Indian sweat and blood 

for the Spanish master who ruled with tyranny over man and 

beast and all that he could trample 

But...THE GROUND WAS MINE. 

I was both tyrant and slave. 

As the Christian church took its place in God's name,

to take and use my virgin strength and trusting faith, 

the priests, both good and bad, took-- 

but gave a lasting truth that Spaniard Indian Mestizo

were all God's children. 

And from these words grew men who prayed and fought 

for their own worth as human beings, for that 

GOLDEN MOMENT of FREEDOM. 

I was part in blood and spirit of that courageous village priest 

Hidalgo who in the year eighteen hundred and ten 

rang the bell of independence and gave out that lasting cry-- 

El Grito de Dolores 

"Que mueran los gachupines y que viva la Virgen de Guadalupe...." 

I sentenced him who was me I excommunicated him, my blood. 

I drove him from the pulpit to lead a bloody revolution for him and me.... 

I killed him. 

His head, which is mine and of all those 

who have come this way, 

I placed on that fortress wall 

to wait for independence. Morelos! Matamoros! Guerrero! 

all companeros in the act, STOOD AGAINST THAT WALL OF INFAMY 

to feel the hot gouge of lead which my hands made. 

I died with them ... I lived with them .... I lived to see our country free. 

Free from Spanish rule in eighteen-hundred-twenty-one. 

Mexico was free?? 

The crown was gone but all its parasites remained, 

and ruled, and taught, with gun and flame and mystic power. 

I worked, I sweated, I bled, I prayed, 

and waited silently for life to begin again. 

I fought and died for Don Benito Juarez, guardian of the Constitution. 

I was he on dusty roads on barren land as he protected his archives 

as Moses did his sacraments. 

He held his Mexico in his hand on 

the most desolate and remote ground which was his country. 

And this giant little Zapotec gave not one palm's breadth 

of his country's land to kings or monarchs or presidents of foriegn powers. 

I am Joaquin. 

I rode with Pancho Villa, 

crude and warm, a tornado at full strength, 

nourished and inspired by the passion and the fire of all his earthy people. 

I am Emiliano Zapata. 

"This land, this earth is OURS." 

The villages, the mountains, the streams 

belong to Zapatistas. 

Our life or yours is the only trade for soft brown earth and maize. 

All of which is our reward, 

a creed that formed a constitution 

for all who dare live free! 

"This land is ours . . . 

Father, I give it back to you. 

Mexico must be free. . . ." 

I rid