Life struggle of migrant worker

I would like to give a salute to thank you MIM for the MT and its many issues. Due to it and it’s very meaning, I was brought back to the experienced life I was given, or forced to live (better said). I want to express myself on this issue.

My struggle, as I came to live it, was through many twists and turns in life. I was born in 1979 in Wichita, Kansas to poorly educated migrant working parents. My father was born and raised in Puerto Rico and migrated to the U$ in the 60s to find a better life and hoping one day to build a family. The poverty-stricken conditions on the island forced him to the U$A. My mother was born in Texas in one of the country’s poverty stricken regions in the Rio Grand Valley. Her parents migrated to the U$ from Mexico to find the so-called “American Dream”.

To these two courageous parents, four boys and two girls were born into the struggle in different parts of the U$, some in Michigan, some in Florida, and me, Kansas. I was born into the revolution, my physical presence as a kid in the field under the hot and endless days brought rebellion into me. Throughout the eighties and early nineties I experienced pain, hate, anger, racism, confusion, puzzlement, stress, oppression, etc.

This rebellion grew in me due to my surroundings and seeing my people oppressed and stigmatized. For me to see how my parents, who I love, would suffer due to the cruel and unequal government and its corporate allies. I remember waking up at 5 or 6am to go to work at the age of 9 or 10 years old until the sun seemed to sit behind the dark blue sky with its shadowy background. This would happen during the summertime when school was out and it was not cold. When it did get cold in the winter we would travel from Michigan to Florida and start all over again. This would keep me from advancing in school and so everyone else seemed to be getting a good and healthy education.

The moral of my life story goes that the economy and the government does not give a damn who it hurts. I came to Texas when I was in second grade and to my surprise I was brought back to first grade because the Michigan educational system was not meeting the Texas educational standard. I was 10 years old and in first grade. Crazy right?!

Did I choose this life? No! This life chose me and I became a revolutionary from birth. I was born in the fields, I was born to know no other life but blood, sweat and tears. I have the understanding now of who I am. I became a part of a movement that stresses the importance of unity and communication to build and sustain a strong front: internationalism and to becoming the vanguard. To help teach our people to become leaders and not followers, in all that we do we represent one another. We must educate and prepare ourselves, for that day is near.

I am presently witnessing my parents suffering from their labor and the pesticide that was routine and sprayed on those fields. Since their births over 60 years ago they were migrant working people and contributed their energy to provide food for those upper class and rich bourgeoisie. My mother suffers from numbness over her body and this I think is due to the chemicals that were sprayed over those fields. My parents receive a monthly so-called support check. Between both of them they receive $600 dollars a month. Honestly, this is not much because the gas has gone up, and property taxes are not far behind. My parents barely can come to see and visit with me and my younger brother who is doing two life sentences. Texas is a big state and we both are up by Dallas while our parents are at the border between Mexico and Texas.

This is my struggle and my way of learning who I am and why I am and why I became who I am.