The Miners' Lament: A Story of Latina Activists in the Empire Zinc Mine Strike
a time when the world is bright with possibility But the town was the color of horse dung The hills were brown The brick church was brown The shacks on the Mexican American side of town were brown Except for one spot of color Ana Maria’s eyes landed on the house Papá had built on land they rented from the Empire Zinc Company The Garcia house was small Two bedrooms a tiny living room an even tinier kitchen a screened in porch on the back of the house and an outhouse in the backyard The wooden fence that enclosed the yard was broken in a few spots and the house’s pine plank siding was rough and weather beaten But the walls stood firm and straight The Garcias front door was bright red Mamá’s favorite favorite color Every spring she’d slapped on a new coat of paint so the door shone Today was May 27 1951 Spring was practically over Who would paint the door this year Ana Maria’s gaze skipped over the railroad tracks to the other side of town The Empire Zinc Company had built decent houses for its Anglo workers Each house had three bedrooms a large living room and a kitchen with a gas 6
stove Best of all the Anglo houses had indoor plumbing Resentment burned in Ana Maria’s chest If the company had put running water in the Mexican American homes Mamá would still be alive In the Anglo neighborhood James Wagner’s house stood out It was bigger than the rest and painted the color of honey A neat fence ran around an emerald lawn The house looked just as lovely inside as it did outside James’s father was a supervisor at the Empire Zinc Mine and Mamá had been Mrs Wagner’s housekeeper for years Ana Maria had spent countless hours in that house when she and James had still been friends About fifty yards up the road from the Wagner house was the arch that marked the entrance to Empire Zinc Company property James must be able to see Papá and the other strikers from his living room window Every day these men marched on the picket line for higher pay and safer working conditions For how many months had James been watching that scene Ana Maria counted back Union Local 890 went on strike on October 17 1950 one week after Mamá had died 7
Thick unshed tears blocked Ana Maria’s throat She reached out one hand and traced the engraving on the cross TERESA ANA CARRANZA GARCIA NOSOTROS TE AMAMOS SIEMPRE 1919 1950 The wood was warm from the sun but lifeless Ana Maria strummed the vihuela again She felt closest to Mamá when she was playing the instrument that Mamá had given her
Ana Maria had wanted to perform Mexican ballads since she was five years old She and her parents had been visiting Mamá’s parents in Ciudad Juárez Mexico Abuelo and his band were onstage Grandpa singing and playing the guitarrón Ana Maria was nestled on Papá’s lap her legs moving in time to the beat When the song ended Ana Maria slid off Papá’s lap and shouted When I grow up I’m going to be a corridista like Abuelo Everyone laughed She hid her face in Papá’s chest Why are they laughing at me she asked They laugh because you are so little and have such big dreams Mamá said And they laugh Papá added because you are a girl and only boys can grow up to be corridistos Later that night Ana Maria asked Abuelo if it was true that only boys could sing corridos Ah niña Abuelo said the stage is no place for a woman You’ll marry and have babies and take care of your husband But what will I do with my stories she asked 9
