Looking
backward, looking forward. Both directions giving the same signals.
The execution of Sacco and Vanzetti,
whose real-life journeys of commitment and tragic ends are the basis for my fictional account in
"Suosso's Lane," took place 89 years ago on Aug. 23. Each year The Sacco and
Vanzetti Commemoration Society recognizes this date with an event in
Boston. This year the group, which defines its goal as the preservation of "the
memory of Sacco and Vanzetti's struggle to radically change society," has invited me and the musicians J.P.
Provenzano and Jake and the Infernal Machine to take part at a commemorative
event held every year on that date.
"We want to educate our
neighbors about Massachusetts' radical history, and draw connections between
the struggles of Sacco and Vanzetti and similar struggles today," the
Society states on its webpage. "We stand against the death
penalty and political persecution as well as the persecution and scapegoating
of immigrants."
For some years the Society has organized
marches and outdoor rallies on the date. This year it has chosen to hold an
indoor event in downtown Boston, at Encuentro5, a non-governmental organization
that describes itself as "a space for progressive movement
building in the heart of Boston."
The address is 9A Hamilton Place; a location close to the Park Street MBTA Station. The event begin at 7 p.m. The group's website is http://saccoandvanzetti.org/
Historian Robert D'Atillio will lead
off the program by providing some background on the case and an
introduction to the program. "We hope that you continue to
support this timeless cause for justice and make plans to attend the event and
bring friends to it," the Society states.
A few years back a speaker at this
event, Dorotea Manuela, an activist for workers' rights and Boston's
immigrant communities, pointedly made
the connection between the anti-immigrant background of the Sacco-Vanzetti case
and the contemporary uproar and governmental crackdown against so-called "illegal" aliens.
"(...) How strangely
reminiscent are today's events," she said. "Arabs, Latinas, Haitians and Caribbeans are
kidnapped from their streets and confined in secret prisons where they rot
without hearing or trial. We do not even need the sham trials of Sacco and
Vanzetti.
"In addition, our xenophobes in Congress and the press announce that yesterday's Italians are today's Latino, Haitian and Caribbean immigrants. They come here, we are told, to draw our resources, to burden our schools, to overwhelm our services and to collect welfare. Paradoxically these 'lazy immigrants' are taking all of our jobs."
"In addition, our xenophobes in Congress and the press announce that yesterday's Italians are today's Latino, Haitian and Caribbean immigrants. They come here, we are told, to draw our resources, to burden our schools, to overwhelm our services and to collect welfare. Paradoxically these 'lazy immigrants' are taking all of our jobs."
I wonder what Ms. Manuela would have
to say about the current political climate in this year of Trumpery and the noxious 2016 election
campaign in which the candidate of one of our two 'major' parties spouts
ignorant bigotry in lieu of political policy or proposals.
In fact, I find it hard to see how I can anything
that doesn't repeat the burden of Ms. Manuela's pointed comments on the connection between the
sham trial in 1921 that condemned two men who held 'dangerous' ideas about social and
political change and spoke in heavy accents, the contemporary defamation of 'Mexicans' and Muslims who come from "terrorist nations."
Perhaps I'll simply give up trying to say
anything original and quote the elegant voices on this subject such as Ms. Manuela and New Yorker writer Kathryn Schulz,
who have made these points already.
Nah, just fooling. I expect I will try to say a little something about story-telling, as well as the case's continuing relevance.
But I expect I
will refer to the Ms. Schulz's recent piece by "Citizen Khan,"
which describes how one "enterprising man," an Afghani Muslim,
planted an immigrant community in northern Wyoming. She concludes her story
this way:
"Over and over, we forget what
being American means. The radical premise of our nation is that one people can
be made from many, yet in each new generation we find reasons to limit who
those “many” can be—to wall off access to America, literally or figuratively.
That impulse usually finds its roots in claims about who we used to be, but
nativist nostalgia is a fantasy. We have always been a pluralist nation, with a
past far richer and stranger than we choose to recall."
Hope to see you there.
http://saccoandvanzetti.org/sn_display1.php?row_ID=118
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