This is the story of the people who marched today for their dignity and basic human rights. Imagine if Republican Sensenbrenner ever passed a law that made you a felon? Notice that the May 1st movement has no single leader, no one for the MSM "tear down." Just 600,000 Chicanos & Chicanas showing solidarity for civil and human rights. DUer MSedano wrote this for La Bloga, one of the best literary blogs out there. Well worth reading. (Permission from the author to reprint in full with attribution.)
La Bloga
Chicano Literature, Chicano Writers, Chicano Fiction, News, Views, Reviewshttp://labloga.blogspot.com/ A Day Without An Immigrant: Does The Cost Exceed the Price?
by Michael Sedano
Maria Martinez studied the talón. It was payday. Gross salary at $8.00 an hour for the previous 80 hours came to $640.00. The company took out taxes, leaving her with $499.20 take home. $11,681.28 a year for the three of them. Maria thought long and hard about next week’s “Day without an immigrant” manifestación. All week, the women on the line had argued back and forth about staying out that day. Maria had long ago used up all her sick days and vacation. If she stayed away from el jale on Monday, there would be no pay for those 8 hours. A day without an immigrant would be a day without a paycheck. Maria Martinez calculated her next check would take home $449.28. It would cost her fifty bolas to join la marcha.
Bob Smith heard the rumors. His Vice President of Manufacturing had predicted half the factory wouldn’t show up on Monday. One of the warehouse managers had said the same, maybe half the workers would be absent, and the HR guy was telling workers to request the day off. Bob looked at the HR guy and spat angrily, “I hear you’re telling people to ask for the day off. What the fuck are you trying to do?”
Ben Dejo had planned to take Monday as a vacation day to join the demonstrators. Ben, the HR guy and third generation Chicano, stared across at the company president. “No, Bob, I didn’t tell them anything of the sort. When Eliseo asked me if we should do something, I told him to advise his staff they’d better request the day off, or come back on Tuesday with a doctor’s note.” Ben thought for a moment, then added, “I don’t know why you’re always distorting the shit you hear about me.” Ben had already cancelled his vacation day and would be putting in at least ten hours Monday, May 1, training the ten new employees he’d just hired. All of them immigrants.
Manuelita Ponce felt her heart beating with excitement. She knew she would pass the drug test and would be asked to start her new job on Monday, May 1. The HR guy had pointedly advised her that he expected new employees to report every day, on time. One day late would be OK, but there could not be a second time; if she missed a single day of training, that would be her last day. Losing the job would be that quick. Manuelita had graduated high school almost a year ago and hadn’t found buen trabajo, as her father complained. And now she would be earning $9.00 an hour—a dollar more than her father—and would be able to start paying her share.
Maria Martinez picked at the dry spot on her arm. Doctora Saenz said it was “equis ima” and was made worse by worrying. But what could Maria do, but worry? Fifty dollars would buy four bags of groceries at la Super A. And Marta la Chola said the company couldn’t fire everyone for missing work Monday. But Marta was a citizen and didn’t have to worry about the annual memo from the payroll office asking Maria to verify her Social Security Number. The Chicano in charge of recursos humanos always smiled and told her in his awkward Spanish to make una cita con la Social para averiguar la situación. Same thing he said to everyone who asked about the memo.
“So, Bob, we can’t fire everyone for skipping Monday, can we.” Ben spoke declaratively, hoping the company owner wouldn’t contradict the logic. Ben kept his smile to himself when an exasperated Bob Smith agreed. But Bob kept the door open by saying, “But I’ll remember. We haven’t done anything to these people. Why do they want to harm us?”
“They don’t mean us any harm, Bob, but you know the kind of crap they have to put up with.” Bob grimaced disgustedly at this liberal claptrap. He paid almost a dollar over the minimum wage. And the state didn’t require the company to provide health insurance. But Bob Smith not only provided health insurance, he provided it at no cost to the employees. And he self-insured up to a million dollars. A million dollars a year off the bottom line to pay the health and dental bills his employees accrued. The bitterness welled up. He stared at the Chicano HR guy and shouted, “Do you know we have 253 questionable Social Security numbers? If any of these people don’t show up Monday, they’re fired!”
“Bob, we’ll refer them for clarification, we can’t just fire them.” Ben hoped he didn’t sound desperate. “It's the same thing!” Bob Smith replied.
Monday, May 1, 2006, Manuelita Ponce woke with eager anticipation of her new job. Then she remembered the hurt look on her father’s face when Manuelita informed him she would earn $9.00 an hour and have a raise in 30 days, and paid benefits in 90 days, and another raise. “Maybe,” Manuelita thought, “I should just go to the demonstration and forget about that pinche job?”
Maria Martinez heard El Cucuy de la Mañana remind his listeners that el Cardenal was asking gente to go to work today and come to the parque for the evening demonstration. Tuesday, la Chola would ride everyone who’d come to work Monday. “¡Nacas! Chúntaras!,” Marta the Merciless would rub their faces in it. “Maybe,” Maria thought, “I should take the bus and keep going into downtown. They can’t fire all of us, they wouldn’t. Sabes que, I’ll take along a big bag to collect cans. We’ll survive without the cinquenta bolas.”
Bob Smith stared into the mirror and said aloud, “If they disrupt traffic I’m going to fire all of them.”
Ben Dejo stared into his mirror and repeated the thought that had been recurring with unnerving regularity lately, “Maybe today’s the day I’ll decide to retire.”
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