The struggle is not just for human immigrant rights, the struggle is for human rights.  That includes immigrants, that includes people who are now citizens, and it includes other people who may want to come to our country.  That's what being human is all about:  Being willing to acknowledge your common humanity.

Chuck Turner (1 May 2008)

Before long, the speeches stopped, the pick-up truck took off, and the music started playing.  The first song they played is one of my favorite songs, and I often appeal to it in my advocacy: Ricardo Arjona's "Mojado".  Here are two of my favorite verses translated into English:

The suffering that a piece of paper causes
has converted him into a fugitive
he isn't from here because his name doesn't appear in the archives
and he isn't from there because he left
[...]
If a universal visa is granted when we are born
and taken away when we die.
Why do they persecute you mojado,
if the consulate of the sky already gave you permission.

Ricardo Arjona

Following the powerful words of the Guatemalan singer blaring out of the back of the truck, hundreds of us marched from East Boston into Chelsea, with chants in Spanish and English of: "The people united, will never be defeated!" "Bread, work, justice, and liberty!" and of course, "Yes we can!"  I would get a chant in every now and then in between filming. 

One of the most powerful moments of the march into Chelsea was when we walked over the Andrew P. McArdle Bridge.  I felt like we were on top of the world.  Boston and Chelsea were on either side of us and you could see the entire procession walking up the bridge.  On top you could see the water below you on the metal bridge and all around you.  And then down we went into Chelsea.

When we arrived, hundreds more were already gathered at Chelsea City Hall and cheering as we marched in.  A Latin American indigenous dance troupe with colorful costumes and feathered headdresses began dancing in the middle of the crowd.  Political figures from Chelsea like City Manager Jay Ash (the equivalent of a Mayor) spoke.  Bill Sinkford, president of the Unitarian Universalist Association spoke.  Respected Latino activist and journalist, Roberto Lovato, spoke.  Gladys Vega, Executive Director of Chelsea Collaborative, was the master of ceremonies and a major organizer of the entire event, but the list of organizations lending sponsoring the event was through the roof.

If reporters had bothered to show up, they might have run into courageous people like the young Brazilian woman I marched with.  Though she has been courageous enough to let me name her, I will not do so, for fear of causing her harm.  This Brazilian youth has had her entire family deported back to Brazil.

She was brought to the United States at the age of 6.  The United States is the only country she has ever known, but she is undocumented.  She told me she was afraid when her family was at risk of getting deported but now that she's the only one left, she feels like she has nothing to lose.  Instead of wallowing in hopelessness, she has chosen to take her destiny into her own hands, and works actively with the Student Immigrant Movement for the freedom of Massachusetts migrant youth.  She had this to say when I spoke to her

I'm marching for the people who can't march today...I wanted my family to be here marching next to me, and they can't.  I'm the only one that can be here today and march.

People like her are my undying inspiration.  If I were her, I would have given up long ago on the United States, a country that refuses to acknowledge her humanity.  Instead she works to change it, and acts as a beacon of hope for other migrant youth that feel their struggle to exist in the only country they can call home.

These were the stories that needed to be told on May Day, but the media was nowhere to be found.