by José de la Isla

HOUSTON — Right after midnight on March 21, 1998, Enrique Morones was the first United States citizen of Mexican parentage to request dual citizenship after Mexican law allowed foreign nationals to apply.

Morones, born in San Diego, Calif., is the grandson of Luis N. Morones, founder of a confederation of Mexican labor unions, a group that was part of a broad political coalition, something like the relationship between the AFL-CIO and the Democratic Party, only more partisan.

In June of 1998, President Ernesto Zedillo personally presented Morones his new documents at the National Palace in Mexico City.

Now, 11 years later, Morones, 47, will again stand before a Mexican president, when Felipe Calderón confers on him Mexico’s 2009 National Human Rights Award for work on migrant rights and as leader of the Border Angels.

Morones graduated from San Diego State University In 1979 and earned a master’s degree in executive leadership from the University of San Diego in 2002. A devout Roman Catholic, he draws on an ethic of Christian doctrine that materializes protest into action to alleviate individual suffering. Farm-labor leader César Chávez was like that.

I first met Morones in February 2006 when he led a nationwide caravan to 40 cities in 40 days to raise awareness about so many desperate people who tried crossing to the U.S. — and died. “If this was the Canadian border you wouldn’t see this — no way,” he had said.

He was invited to speak at a Georgetown University Latino student meeting to explain how his caravan intended to raise awareness about the mounting deaths on the border, sealed after 9/11 to hermetically insulate this country as tight as sandwich baggies claim to keep air out.

As a consequence, the informal movement by migrant people was driven to more treacherous desert corridors. Laborers and seasonal workers, women and children seeking to reunite with husbands and fathers were dying in the long march through increasingly dangerous terrain where only traffickers in human cargo offered a hand — for a price.

Morones and his Border Angels had set out from San Ysidro, Calif., to visit the 40 cities to encourage local leaders to join a national demonstration against draconian House of Representatives-approved legislation that would criminalize up to 12 million migrants in this nation and harshly punish anyone who gave them aid, even those suffering from injury, dehydration and disorientation. The caravan along the way planted 4,400 crosses to honor those who died trying to cross the international divide.

“For the love of God, do something” was the call to the young students, most of whom had never before heard the moral call to act. He pleaded in reasoned, plaintive words. Truth does not have to be yelled at reasonable people. In that fi ery gaze of his was the passion of a later-day John the Baptist, a plain-spoken Martin Luther King, Jr., a less selfeffacing César Chávez.

Two days later, on the snowy grounds of the U.S. capitol, the three Border Angels were joined by about 30 other activists, including union representatives and students, who held up handmade signs to make their statement.

An onlooking little girl turned to her mother — plainly they were day tourists — asking what were those people doing. They were there “because somebody is putting up a wall between us,” her mom said.

The Angels were soon gone to Philadelphia, New York, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Chicago, Salt Lake City, and Denver on their way back to the West Coast. But at each place, word-of-mouth turned into a national network that included evangelical and Catholic clergy, radio disk jockeys, students, unionists and others. In March and April 2006 the spark of conscience brought about the largest demonstrations in U.S. history by fi ve million people who paraded in the streets of their cities for immigration reform.

I won’t say Morones caused all that, but I can say I saw the spark in his eyes that ignited something that a child, a mother, some students, unionists, activists and fi ve million others understood.

persons with fi ery eyes whoThe human rights commission of Mexico is honoring, like we all should, those take action when somebody puts up walls between us.

­[José de la Isla writes a weekly commentary for Hispanic Link News Service. His latest digital book, sponsored by The Ford Foundation, is available free at www.DayNightLifeDeathHope.com and is author of The Rise of Hispanic Political Power (2003). E-mail him at joseisla3@yahoo.com.] © 2009

by Andy Porras

If this nation’s 50 million Latinos remained true to their culture this Christmas, they could save millions. All they have to do is say no to gift-giving on Dec. 25 and yes to gifting on Jan. 6, el dia de los Santos Reyes, or Three Kings, the official Hispanic day to share their blessings. Do the math. The Magi come 12 days after Christmas, or in wallet-speak, ten days after the day-after-Christmas sales … ca-ching! Throughout the Spanish-speaking world, Jan. 6 is a Christian holiday that celebrates the Three Wise Men who brought gifts to the Christ child.

So, Hispanics wishing to stay true to their old world customs can also keep more money in their pockets by doing the religious thing. “But I guess when we crossed into los estados unidos Ñ the United States Ñ we forgot all about our holidays, not to mention our manners!” says 70-year-old Ernesto Beltrán, who arrived from the southern Mexican state of Yucatán to work in the two nation’s bracero farm labor program back in the ’60s. He later became a naturalized citizen and ran a successful fried chicken franchise. Now retired, he lives with his wife on a small ranch in Rio Linda, near Sacramento, Calif.

“I remember the original Twelve Days of Christmas, which begins, rather than ends, with Christmas,” he recollects.

In some regions of Mexico, it is traditional for children to leave their shoes out on the evening of Jan. 5, filling them with hay for the camels so the Magi will be generous with their gifts. This is analogous to many U.S. children leaving cookies out for Santa Claus. In Puerto Rico, most fill a box with grass or hay and place it underneath their bed. Beltrán’s grandchildren learned about their elders’ traditions last year. “No, not from me, but from American television!” says a bemused Beltrán.

“I picked up the little ones from school and their teacher told us about a bilingual TV character named Dora the Explorer and a special program on the Reyes Magos.”

The Dora the Explorer special followed a story in the bible about three kings or the magi following a bright star in the sky on the night Jesus Christ was born. They followed it to Bethlehem where they presented the newborn with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Chances are preschoolers have at the very least a rudimentary knowledge of all the major holidays such as Christmas and Easter or even the Fourth of July. But how much do they know about the traditions of vari- ous cultures — their own or those that belong to others?

“Three Kings Day is a big holiday in Latin America and Mexico,” Beltrán recounts. “Here, sadly, it has been overwhelmed by Christmas and all the commercial aspects of it.”

It was during the last part of the 19th century that the U.S. Southwest began to abandon the three kings and greet Santa, a dozen days earlier. In New Mexico, where Hispanic families have lived for more than 400 years, for example, the children turned to a grand fatherly fi gure to share their wishes for their favorite toys.

“I remember my older brother Manuel, who lived in Colorado,” says Beltrán.

“He would tell me his grandchildren told him he was crazy for suggesting that they put their shoes by the door in hopes of them being filled with gifts.”

Many Puerto Rican and other Latino families throughout the United States claim a resurgence of the old customs. In Sacramento, a former Mexican dance instructor turned restaurateur stages a Three Kings celebration for underprivileged children every year.

But along both sides of the U.S.-Mexico border, few families are sticking to the old traditions. A drive into any of the Mexican cities that dot it reveals as many outdoor Santas or snowmen suspended in huge plastic bubbles as are found in any Texas or California suburb.

“About the only custom left from the Reyes Magos traditional celebration is the Rosca de Reyes,” Ñ baking a ring-shaped sweet bread with a tiny doll representing Baby Jesus inside, Beltrán observes, shaking his salyand-pepper head. “Today’s Latinos don’t know what they’re missing!”

Not to mention how much they could be saving.

(Andy Porras, a publisher, writer and educator who has divided his time between his native Texas and California, now resides in Houston. He has contributed commentaries to Hispanic Link News Service since its founding in 1980. Contact him by email at ­andyporras@yahoo.com.)