Every year around Cesar Chavez day I look for traces of my involvement with him. In the spring of 1987 he came to my college campus to recruit an annual mini-army of college interns to work on whatever campaign the United Farm Workers were organizing that summer. I was back from a two-week, semi-authorized drop-out for a peace march and was intrigued with its glimpse into alternative communities. Now here was an opportunity to work with a living nonviolence legend: yes please!
Much of the actual work turned out to be pretty meaningless, I must admit. I did a lot of cold calling to church answering machines to tell them about a video we were going to mail out to them (“narrated by Mike Farrell!”). But the context of the experience was great: living in a rented house with other UFW interns in East Brunswick, N.J. (one of whom became a serious relationship); working in New York at a revolving number of desks at whatever union would lend us a room; discovering cheese enchiladas via Cesar’s always kind daughter Linda; commuting into pre-gentrification Tribeca listening to some atrocious 1980s bubblegum pop station because that’s what Linda’s tween daughters Olivia and Julia liked.
In July, we organized an event back in Philly for Cesar: a protest outside the A&P stockholder meeting pressuring them to stop selling grapes treated with pesticides. I did a lot of organizing around this: writing first drafts of press releases, helping to get local labor unions out to the event to boost numbers. Googling this morning I found the photo above, taken at the event. That’s Cesar’s son-in-law and my boss Artie Rodriguez behind him to the right. I would have been somewhere nearby just out of camera reach. The caption reads:
Farm leader Cesar Chavez speaks to a group of supporters in Philadelphia 7/9 outside the hotel where the A&P stockholders were holding their annual meeting. Chavez supporters were demanding that the supermarket chain stop selling California grapes that are contacted with pesticides that cause cancer.
It would probably stun kids today that before cell phones many of us just didn’t take pictures. Despite working with him for an extended summer, and walking with him in the 1987 March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights, I have no pictures of myself with Cesar (I do have a cardboard poster I probably drew in ten minutes, which he signed). But I have memories of that summer 35 (!) years ago. He was always kind and funny and surprisingly down to earth. His charisma brought together an interesting collection of followers and I was glad to be one.