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17. Felicitas Nuñez
- University of Texas Press
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17 Felicitas Nuñez delia ravelo and I first met in the summer of 1970 at San Diego State University (SDSU). Our field of awareness was spectacular, animated by Chicana students ripening into their potential worth and power. We came upon teatro as a way to discover ourselves and connect with our surroundings. Our street theater became a cradle that rocked us on the rivers of the world. It became a training ground for the individual to further strengthen self-worth and self-power. This awakened in me a means and a desire to support the voice of younger women who for the first time were apart from their family. The outcome of their development would be our joint evolution, and my personal empowerment. I learned from my mother to use my hands to work, direct, and guide. My mother’s hands blessed everything she touched, including me. My hands redirected the young Chicanos and Chicanas from the restrictions of religion and the confines of culture to the wonders of education and experience of our world. My hands carried the Grape Boycott picket sign of the United Farm Workers (UFW). My hands became accustomed to forming a fist, the symbol of power and self-determination. My changes within were reflected outward. 137 138 Recuerdos / Memoirs My mother cried when she recognized my transformation after a visit home from college. All I could do was embrace her, using my hands to stroke her silvery crown. When I first left home, my hands were bigger than my mother ’s hands, except hers had been made hard and strong. Her hands had wiped away countless tears. Her hands had sewn clothes for her children, defended, disciplined, and labored to ensure the survival of her nine offspring, including me, the second youngest. I left home in the summer of 1968 to go to an unknown college in San Diego. I didn’t know then, but of all the treasurers in the world, none would compare to the nurturing mother-love hidden in my heart. I, more excited than fearful of the unknown, unexpectedly ventured into an inspiring, wondrous world. I was inspired: by Rosa Parks, who ignited the nation’s March for Civil Rights, by Dolores Huerta, who was a leader and cofounder of the UFW, and by Jane Fonda, who gave voice to the Women’s Movement opposing the Vietnam War. These were examples of self-made women symbolically walking in their own red handmade shoes. Symbolically, I yearned to make my red shoes with my own hands and walk with the dignity of a self-made woman. My insight and involvement in the Chicano Movement became a genuine link to all struggles for human rights. I made an attempt to restrain my boldness for self-protection, yet like everyone else I was receptive and virginal in many ways, including being in a social organization like the Mexican American Youth Association (MAYA). In the fall of 1968, for the first time in a college setting, I became a member of MAYA, which later became the El Movimiento Estudiantil Chicano de Aztlán (the Chicano Student Movement of Aztlán, or MEChA). I wanted to give back to society in some way after realizing that countless others had sacrificed their lives so that I could have a chance to better myself. I volunteered to recruit and encourage young Chicanos to obtain a higher education under the guidance of the Educational Opportunity Program (EOP). I identified with and supported the farm workers in their struggle for labor rights. I strongly believed and encouraged freedom of speech for all people. I also proudly chanted, “Chicana Power,” which meant liberty, equality, and freedom to learn and grow in my humanity as a woman. I could not help but take note of the strong women’s movement on the college campus and became aware of books like The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State by Friedrich Engels. This book provided a very welcome understanding for me of all women’s universal history and helped me to objectively understand my personal feelings of embarrassment, confusion, and resentment over being female. These negative feelings were connected in [54.221.110.87] Project MUSE (2024-03-28 22:41 GMT) felicitas nuñez 139 many ways to my experiences in a male-supremacist society. But mainly I had allowed myself to feel belittled, and when I did struggle against feeling belittled , I felt guilty or insane. It was...