History calls me a Mexican. It says I am a lazy person who likes take siestas, east frijoles and tacos. It says we are uneducated and dumb.
The Military calls me a Caucasian. The military says that, to the military, there is no such thing as white, black, or brown color; we are all the same. But it doesn’t say how the military gives us and our black brothers the worst jobs. It doesn’t say how the racist lifers try to separate us so we won’t unite against them. It doesn’t say how they try to brainwash us to keep us from finding out the truth about why we go to war. It doesn’t say that they send us to Vietnam to fight people who are fighting the same enemy we are fighting in America: U.S. imperialism. It doesn’t say that out purpose there is to protect the rich man’s money and to make him richer.
Society calls me a Mexican American. They say I smoke marijuana, shoot heroin, and push drugs. They say I cause riots. They say I am lazy, uneducated, undependable to hold a job. They say I stay at home and live off welfare.
But they don’t say that we smoke marijuana and shoot heroin because of despair, anger, being looked upon less than human, being exploited and the only escape from this is by staying high in order to be happy. They don’t say we push drugs to help support our families. They don’t say we cause riots to demand our rights, and protest police brutality. They don’t say how policemen arrest and beat our brothers for no reason at all. They don’t say that the Declaration of Independence doesn’t contain a single Chicano or black man’s signature and at that time a Chicano or black man was not considered human. They don’t say we are uneducated because we don’t have the opportunity to get an education like a white man has. They don’t say that the rich pigs keep us on welfare to try to stop us from fighting against their so-called democratic government.
Yes, CARNELES, who am I? The answer is this.
My grandfather was a wetback because he didn’t realize how the whites were using him and getting rich through his back-breaking work. My father was a Mexican American because he too was used and downgraded and exploited, and he didn’t have the guts to stand up and fight for freedom. But me, carnales, I AM A CHICANO AND I AM PROUD OF BEING A CHICANO. I shall stand up to these rich pigs and fight for freedom and rights. I shall take arms if necessary. I will help the rest of the working people regardless of race and color. I am ready to give up my life for this cause because my blood is the same as that of Che Guevara, Pancho Villa, Chicanos who died to give people their freedom.
Yes, Carnales, this is what I am.