By Juan Montoya
When I was in grad school at the University of Wisconsin-Madison I got to know a few movimiento people who had been active in La Raza Unida, the Mexican American Youth Organization (MAYO) and Movimiento Estudiantil Chicano de Atzlan (MEChA), among others.
One of the most interesting was Mario Compean from Las Wilmas (San Antonio), who, for those of us old enough to remember, was the last Raza Unida candidate for governor of Texas.
Mario was working on his PhD in Educational Administration at the UW and acted as a sort of mentor to younger undergrads through the university's Chicano Advocate's office.
When I was in grad school at the University of Wisconsin-Madison I got to know a few movimiento people who had been active in La Raza Unida, the Mexican American Youth Organization (MAYO) and Movimiento Estudiantil Chicano de Atzlan (MEChA), among others.
One of the most interesting was Mario Compean from Las Wilmas (San Antonio), who, for those of us old enough to remember, was the last Raza Unida candidate for governor of Texas.
Mario was working on his PhD in Educational Administration at the UW and acted as a sort of mentor to younger undergrads through the university's Chicano Advocate's office.
Those of us from South Texas – and there were Chicanos from throughout the United States there – gravitated around a core group made up of Mechistas and upper classmen. A favorite gathering place was the university's Rathskleller at the student union.
Now, Wisconsin, being a beer-manufacturing state (the beer that made Milwaukee famous, among others), lent itself to the consumption of its products. The Rathskeller started serving beer at 11 a.m.
In the evenings, after classes concluded and a bunch of us gathered to shoot the breeze over a mug of Old Style beer, the tales would start flowing.
Now, Wisconsin, being a beer-manufacturing state (the beer that made Milwaukee famous, among others), lent itself to the consumption of its products. The Rathskeller started serving beer at 11 a.m.
In the evenings, after classes concluded and a bunch of us gathered to shoot the breeze over a mug of Old Style beer, the tales would start flowing.
What follows is one of the better offerings by Compean.
It seems that when La Raza activists would go to the outlying rural communities in Central Texas around Uvalde, Crystal City, etc., a part of the organizing would include the proper manner to conduct a meeting under Robert's Rules of Order. This, of course, would set off a round of protest from independent-minded adult migrant workers.
"Y quien es ese Robert?" (who is this Robert?) they would ask the chair when he called them to order and gave someone the floor. "Porque manda el?" (Why is he in charge?)
"Y quien es ese Robert?" (who is this Robert?) they would ask the chair when he called them to order and gave someone the floor. "Porque manda el?" (Why is he in charge?)
After a couple of these meetings, people generally caught on and by then the organizers were ready for most questions. That is, until they got to a meeting at a small town held in a rural church hall.
"La raza was getting into the meeting and following the rules of order until an old man stood up bien enojado (angry) and demanded to know why we wanted to sacar el mocho (someone without an arm or leg)," Compean would say.
"Yo nomas quiero saber porque quieren sacar al mochito," the old man said. "Oigo que saquen el mocho y que saquen el mocho. Que les hizo el mochito pa que lo quieran sacar?"
It took a while for the organizers to understand the man's protest, but when they did, they burst out laughing, much to the man's displeasure.
"No, señor, they're saying that they second the motion, no que saquen el mocho!"

1 comment:
"When I was in grad school in the University of Wisconsin - Madison..."
As humans sometimes we say or write things in a nonchalant manner but you Sir are a trailblazer.💫
Thank you for what you do for our little community. Blessings
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