Yesterday was my first day of canvassing for the Colorado Immigrant Rights Coalition Action Fund. We are preparing for the Denver Municipal elections on May 7th, where Denver citizens will be voting for mayor, city council members, and various propositions. I am currently working in District 8 - Northeast Denver - gauging what issues are getting folks out the door to vote, who they are planning to vote for, and above all encouraging and thanking people for doing their civic duty by voting. Basically, I’m getting to meet a lot of amazing people and have conversations about politics with them on their doorstep. It gives me life because I love hearing people’s stories and learning more about this city that I live in and love. My hope is that it also empowers the people that I talk to, to know that change is possible and their voice can and will be heard. Their votes can help elect a candidate that is representative of their values and fights for the good of the community. Over the next month leading up to the Municipal election, and the month after leading up to the run-off election, I hope to share some of the stories from the campaign trail, as well as stories from the past few years of my life, that are giving me life, informing my view of the world and this city, and fueling my fire for justice. I hope that these stories can also spark something in you, make you laugh, or open you to a new conversation.
President Eli 2050. Remember the name!
As I turned the corner on to the 28th block of Pine St., I was given a breath of fresh life. There stood a sister and brother playing basketball. Further down the block two boys rode side-by-side down the street, one on a scooter, and one on a skateboard. And even further down the block, a handful of kids played football in their front yard. I was taken back to the days of my youth playing on the cul-de-sac of Lost Elms Street with my neighbor Koby, running up and down the block, playing basketball and tag, jumping on a trampoline, and then heading home and sweaty and sticky as soon as the street lights came on. The days of Americans knowing their neighbors and kids being able to play outside on the street were not over. Pine St. was alive with the future of America!
As I headed down the block, I talked to the brother and sister about their favorite NBA teams - the Chicago Bulls and Golden State Warriors, and shot a basket. I airballed (sad face). Then, I came upon the boys skating down the block. They were curious about what I was up to, and asked if I was the “salesman guy.” “No”, I replied. “I am the get your parents out to vote guy. Have y’all heard of that guy?” They looked at my kind of funny, but were intrigued. I knocked on a couple more houses and then realized, Why don’t I talk more with these kids? It’s never too early to start talking to youth about the world they envision and the country they would love to see.
So, I asked them, “Are you all going to vote one day?” Dee, a young white kid that looks much like the actor in Macklemore’s music video for “Wings”, jokingly said, “Nah.” Then, both Dee and his friend Eli replied, “Yeah, I think I will do that one day.” I did not think the conversation would go much further, but then Eli, a young African American youth around 10-years old, piped up and said, “I’m gonna be President one day.” “Oh yeah,” I replied, “What would you do as President?”
Eli confidently stated, “I would ban plastic. It can’t be recycled and it is clogging up the ocean. By 2050 there will be more plastic in the ocean than fish.”
Yes, I thought to myself. These kids get it. They understand our relationship to the world and want to make a change.
“What else would you do?” I asked.
“I would get everyone to use metal straws instead of plastic ones. Metal straws can be reused and recycled.”
Through the course of the conversation, I also learned that Eli wanted to send Donald Trump to Africa. It did not seem to becoming from a place of anger, as much as it came from a realization that Trump did not hold the same values as Eli and his neighbors nor did he seem to be awake to the realities of the world, and Eli wanted to give him a new experience to him wake him up. I was impressed.
Eli’s vision of the future and poised speech moved me. This kid could legitimately be the president one day. He seemed to come from a family that embraces the values I would love to see in this country. They had opened the garage of their house to Dee and his family, who were homeless for the time being. Dee said that their previous landlord tried to charge Dee’s mother $7,000 a month to live there, so the family had to move out. Whether the numbers are accurate or not, the truth remains that housing is expensive in Denver, and long-time residents are our community are deeply affected by the shortage of affordable housing. This is something that both Eli and Dee know well.
Eli went on, “It will be Eli and Dee, or Eli and Geo, or Eli and Davon…” While he had not quite figured out who his Vice President would be, remember, Eli 2050.
Mexican Beer
There were a few cars in the driveway on the corner of Pine and 26th. Between the cars and the house, sat a few men. I could hear their Spanish conversation dance down the block as I approached the men. I shuffled between the cars and embraced the opportunity to speak Spanish, greeting the men by saying, “Buenas Tardes. Soy Joshua con la Coalición de Derechos de Inmigrantes de Colorado.” (“Good Afternoon. I am Joshua with the Colorado Immigrant Rights Coalition.”) “Inmigración?” (“Immigration?”) they questioned, with a straight-faced humor. “¿Eres la migra?” (“Are you la migra?”) I embraced the opportunity to joke with them, and got down on my knees and put my hands in the air, saying playfully and in all sincerity, “¡No, No, No! No soy la migra. Estoy el opuesto de la migra. Estoy aquí para pelear contra deportación y crear nuevas leyes que protege a los inmigrantes.” (“No, no, no! I am not immigration! I am the opposite. I am here to fight against deportation and create new laws that protect immigrants.”) They laughed at my theatrical display and welcomed me in.
“¿Quieres una cerveza, o un Sparkling Water?” (“Do you want a beer or sparkling water?”) they asked me. This was Mexican hospitality on display. Always open to welcoming in the stranger, to making the table a bit longer, to making the party bigger. I could not decline.
To receive a gift of hospitality is a gift to both the receiver and the giver. This is a lesson that cultures around the world know well, whether Latinx, Middle Eastern, or African. For many in the United States, it would serve us well to learn this tradition of hospitality. Anyways, back to the corner of 26th and Pine St....
The three men introduced themselves. First David, the owner of the house. “In English”, he said, “I am David”, said with an accent over the “a” as we do in English. “En Español”, he continued, “yo soy David”, with an accent over the “i” as is done in Spanish. David then continued, “Este es Juan Casas, o en English, John Houses. Y este es Pancho Rojo, o en English, Frankie Red.” We all laughed at how these Spanish names could so easily be translated into different names in English. Then, I asked the men which names they preferred more, the English or the Spanish.
I learned that David and his counterparts was from Zacatecas, Mexico. David had become a Citizen of the United States and ran a landscaping business, employing Juan and Pancho. As the conversation continued, I asked the men what political issues mattered to them in the upcoming Municipal election, and also in general. As I asked about LGBT rights, they couldn’t pass the opportunity to heckle each other, Juan and Pancho commenting on David loving men. After dishing each other a few immature, but affectionate jokes, David then straightened up to say, “Claro que estoy en favor de los derechos de LGBT. Cada persona tiene sus propios preferencias debe estar respetada. Cada persona puede hacer lo que quiere, y solo que pido yo, es que también respete a mi.” (“Of course I am for LGBT rights. EAch person has their own preferences and should be respected. Each person can do what they want, and I just ask that they respect me, too.”)
Through much of the rest of the conversation, Juan and Pancho remained quiet as David and I discussed policies related to healthcare, affordable housing, racial discrimination, and immigration. Then, I asked about raising the minimum wage, and all of a sudden Juan and Pancho jumped in, “¡Sí, sí!” (“Yes! Yes!”) they exclaimed. “¡Debemos aumentar el salario mínimo!” (“We should increase the minimum wage!”) They embraced the opportunity to joke with their boss (David) about wanting to get paid more. Pancho, jokingly said, “No tengo bastante dinero para un coche. Tengo que montar mi bicicleta.” (“I do not have enough money for a car. I have to ride a bike.”) He was not actually being serious, but David went with it. “No, estoy ayundandole. Estás ahorrando dinero porque no tienes que pagar gas. Y estoy ayudandote a ponerte más fuerte porque estás haciendo más ejercicio.” (“Actually, I am helping you. Now you have more money since you are not paying for gas. And, I am helping you get stronger since you are doing more exercise.”) I chimed in, “Y estás protegiendo al medio ambiente por usar su bici en lugar de manejar.” (“And, you are helping the environment by using your bicycle in place of driving.”) Pancho accepted these new perspectives with a joking naivete, “Ah, entiendo. En realidad, me estás ayudando mucho!” (“Oh, I get it. You are actually helping me a lot!”)
I laughed with these men that had been strangers just a few minutes ago, and was overjoyed by their company, hospitality, and the quick bond we had made on the corner of 26th and Pine St. As David mentioned that life in Capitalist America can be so busy and chaotic, it brought me joy to see that these men were resisting that individualistic dehumanizing tendency to work, work, work and pay no attention to the people around them. Through shared beers and conversation, jokes around lawn chairs in the driveway, these men celebrated life, and celebrated living in a country where they felt free; a country that, despite some faults, by-and-large celebrates diversity and inclusivity.
*some names have been changed to protect the identities of people mentioned in this post*
