Today in San Antonio, there’s a March for Justice in honor of César Chávez. And before anyone rolls their eyes and mumbles something about "identity politics" or Trump’s favorite little racist dog-whistle, DEI, let me stop you right there—because that’s not what this is about.
It’s about socioeconomic class and exploitation of the poor by the rich. Full. Stop.
See, somewhere along the way, the powers that be decided it was safer to turn Chávez into a quaint ethnic symbol instead of a threat to exploitative capitalism. A poster. A quote. A t-shirt. Something to put on a library wall and forget. The same thing they’ve done to other class warriors, including Martin Luther King, Jr.
They want him to be remembered as “the grape guy,” and only during Hispanic Heritage Month. The last thing they want is for ALL of us to realize is what a badass freakin’ class warrior he really was, and that he stood up for ALL WORKERS, regardless of background or skin tone.
And don’t even get me started on how they try to sideline Dolores Huerta, the co-founder of the United Farm Workers, the woman who came up with “Sí se puede,” like she’s some sweet little grandma with a scarf and not an organizing juggernaut who could probably take down more than half the Senate in a fight right now. Not gonna lie: I’d give anything to see her body-slam Chuck Schumer right about now.
But I digress.
Let’s be clear.
Chávez and Huerta weren’t ethnic warriors or immigrants out here asking for recognition. They were Americans, born in the United States, demanding the equal redistribution:
Of power.
Of wealth.
Of basic respect.
They were demanding safe workplaces.
They weren’t focused on race or identity.
They were focused on class. On poor people. On workers. On anyone breaking their back in the fields while some guy in a tailored suit sold their sweat at a markup.
They were the farmworkers’ equivalent of the Appalanchian miner organizers Mother Jones, John L. Lewis and Sid Hatfield.
Imagine how dangerous we’d be if we all understood that.
And here’s the scam:
Far-right power pretends to hate “identity politics”—but nobody uses it more than they do.
The super-rich love identity politics when it’s a tool to divide the people who could run them out of town with pitchforks. When it keeps poor people too busy blaming each other for the melanin they either have or lack to notice the pasty robotic CEO flying overhead in a private jet named Tax Break Bop Magnet.
You know the move:
“Oh, you’re struggling? Must be that guy from over there who looks different from you.”
Nah. It’s the oligarch who just laid off half the staff while cashing a bonus so big it has its own zip code.
This is why fascists turn real worker movements into shallow symbols.
Because you can’t unionize behind an ethnic mural. You can’t bargain with an identy-based hashtag.
They don’t want you to remember that César and Dolores organized the poorest of the poor—people with no protections, no money, no voice—and turned them into a movement so powerful it scared the hell out of billionaires. They want you to think he’s some symbol of some ethic group that has nothing to do with you, so you forget about him and stay home instead of going to the damn march.
And that same fear? It’s still alive.
Because there’s a hunger across America right now. A hunger for leaders who actually fight for ALL us:
Not for billionaires.
Not for lobbyists.
Not for whatever version of capitalism Elon Musk is LARPing this week.
That’s why Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez still have momentum, and it’s growing. They drew a crowd of 34,000 in freakin’ Denver yesterday, people. Not because they have slogans. But because they have substance.
Because they show up—for nurses, for teachers, for subway operators, for federal workers, for firefighters, for Park Rangers, for the underpaid and overworked and utterly disrespected people who make this country function.
And Trump and Musk? Let’s be real.
They’re not anti-establishment. They are the establishment. They are late-stage capitalism, bowels full of steak and lobster, struggling over a gilded toilet, dressed like Janet Jackson from her Rhythm Nation days or golfing as intently as an incontinent walrus in a Polo shirt can. They’re laying off millions of workers, gutting protections for literally everyone, and then pretending to be the saviors of the very people they’re screwing over.
That’s why today’s march matters.
Not as a memory—but as a mandate.
Because if César were alive right now he wouldn’t be posing for selfies at some corporate-sponsored justice brunch attended by Bezos and The B(r)east(s) the way most of the DNC would.
César would be outside your Amazon warehouse with a megaphone.
Dolores would be there with a clipboard and a look that says:
“Why haven’t you unionized yet?”
When she said “Sí se puede,” she didn’t mean:
“Yes, we can feel inspired for a couple hours, but only if we’re Chicanx.”
She meant:
Yes, we can ALL organize.
Yes, we can ALL strike.
Yes, we can ALL topple oligarchs.
Yes, we can ALL win.
If we stop letting ourselves be divided by manufactured culture wars, and start realizing that poor and working people—no matter what we look like or where we come from—have more in common with each other than with the ones doing the exploiting.
Yes. We. Can.
🔨 If you’re fired up, get involved. Organize. Strike. Write. March.
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→ “Alisa Writes” is an unapologetically Texan humanist progressive take on American culture and politics. Subscribe to join the fight—because sí se puede.
Oh my god, Alisa. The mental image of Dolores body slamming Schumer gives me chills ‘n thrills. I was a junior at UT Austin in September 1966 when César Chávez’ march from the Valley reached the state capitol. They marched up Congress Ave shouting “Viva la Huelga” and scores of radical students like me met them on the steps. It was a glorious and unforgettable day, especially coming just one month after the Tower shooting which left all of us traumatized. To step out of that dark place of despair (many of us lost friends that day) into the bright light of justice and courage renewed us. I’ve never seen a braver man or woman than César and Dolores. 💪🏽🇲🇽
Thank you so much for writing this Alisa and clearing up the ignorance. I'm so honored that I actually got to meet Dolores during the horrible SB1070 times in Arizona. She's one of my heroes. Si se puede for everyone!