"We didn't cross the border...
The border crossed us!"
The t-shirt statement is the same understanding I have of cross border migration when it comes to the General Agreement on Trade and Services that gave birth to North American Free Trade Agreement. To a Caucasian born and raised anywhere north of the border, the common reaction to the sentiment would be indifference.
"Baloney!"
"Obama, escucha!" I know Obama listens. I know even the former President George W. Bush did with what would have been his Guest Workers' Program. But the baloney in the mind of everyone was too much and too noisy. Too chaotic!
The rally was peaceful. I am in awe at how unpretentious the rallyists are. I felt a little crazy coming downtown to watch the parade while the Boston Marathon bombing was still fresh in everyone's mind. The mayday parade was a nationwide event and I did not want to miss it just like I did with the Occupy Movement about a year ago. The parade was more interesting than the 4th of July celebration in Mira Mesa where women parade themselves as " a thing of beauty is a joy forever". An ugh to John Keats!
I was a migrant worker and I am on a full participant-observer mode. I am an immigrant whining about a 3D job that give me total rewards on the side. But I feel solidarity with every immigrant, undocumented and naturalized, being an immigrant myself, plucked! Nobody crossed me! But I did cross the border which came spelled out in lots of documentation.
I guess this is not the first workers rally that I have attended. Several years ago, Richard drove me to SDSU to where Mickey Kasparian would be speaking. Mickey Kasparian was the frog-like character I once described in my blog. He happened to be the chairman of the local chapter for Universal Food and Commercial Workers in San Diego which I was once affiliated as a condition of my employment with the Safeway Companies, a chain of grocery stores operating in US and Canada.
Mexico to me represents my own country of origin. I did not cross the border but I came to US against all odds. The odds are the stereotypes that I would always be categorized into.
The t-shirt statement is the same understanding I have of cross border migration when it comes to the General Agreement on Trade and Services that gave birth to North American Free Trade Agreement. To a Caucasian born and raised anywhere north of the border, the common reaction to the sentiment would be indifference.
"Baloney!"
"Obama, escucha!" I know Obama listens. I know even the former President George W. Bush did with what would have been his Guest Workers' Program. But the baloney in the mind of everyone was too much and too noisy. Too chaotic!
The rally was peaceful. I am in awe at how unpretentious the rallyists are. I felt a little crazy coming downtown to watch the parade while the Boston Marathon bombing was still fresh in everyone's mind. The mayday parade was a nationwide event and I did not want to miss it just like I did with the Occupy Movement about a year ago. The parade was more interesting than the 4th of July celebration in Mira Mesa where women parade themselves as " a thing of beauty is a joy forever". An ugh to John Keats!
I was a migrant worker and I am on a full participant-observer mode. I am an immigrant whining about a 3D job that give me total rewards on the side. But I feel solidarity with every immigrant, undocumented and naturalized, being an immigrant myself, plucked! Nobody crossed me! But I did cross the border which came spelled out in lots of documentation.
I guess this is not the first workers rally that I have attended. Several years ago, Richard drove me to SDSU to where Mickey Kasparian would be speaking. Mickey Kasparian was the frog-like character I once described in my blog. He happened to be the chairman of the local chapter for Universal Food and Commercial Workers in San Diego which I was once affiliated as a condition of my employment with the Safeway Companies, a chain of grocery stores operating in US and Canada.
Mexico to me represents my own country of origin. I did not cross the border but I came to US against all odds. The odds are the stereotypes that I would always be categorized into.
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