Singing Our Way to Freedom

FEMALE SPEAKER: Funding for this program has been provided by...

The Leichtag Foundation, the San Diego County Board of Supervisors, The Hervey Family Fund at The San Diego Foundation, The Virginia G. Piper Charitable Trust, and by Wells Fargo.

MALE SPEAKER: At Wells Fargo, we support the diverse cultures within the Hispanic community.

We honor the cultural heritage and impactful contributions of Hispanics and US Latinos who have enriched the cultural fabric of our country.

FEMALE SPEAKER: Additional support from these and many other donors...

The Institute for Humanities Research at Arizona State University, Queriamos Norte Foundation, The McGrory Family Fund of the Jewish Community Foundation, and these additional funders.

A complete list is available at APTonline.org.

[crowd chanting in Spanish] CHUNKY SANCHEZ: The scourge of history are on my face, and in the veins of my body that aches.

[crowd cheers] I do not ask for freedom.

We are freedom!

[crowd cheers] We are not afraid CHUNKY: A lot of people didn't understand, what is Chicano?

Well to me, Chicano is not necessarily someone e that was born in a certain place but rather a state of mind and a state of heart.

[] VIRGINIA ZARP: And I look back on pictures then, and I thought oh my God, we were poor, but I didn't feel poor at the time.

CHUNKY: Things were very simple.

It's like the Wizard of Oz says, "There's no place like home."

[] CARLOS LEGERRETTE: You're talking about Chunky Sanchez from this little small California rural town, Blythe, where it's like a blip on a radar screen, you know.

[] NARRATOR: Growing up, Chunky and his siblings were virtually invisible to the larger society.

[giggling] Chunky would escape these rural beginnings and discover a special gift that would change the future of his community forever.

[] His journey is a remarkable lens on a time when young Mexican Americans became Chicanos.

[crowd chanting] CARLOS: He was absolutely Cesar Chavez's favorite musician.

[crowd chanting] NARRATOR: They were ordinary young people who found the courage to fight for self-determination and justice.

[] CHUNKY: We went in there and did two or three songs and everybody was ready to go out and challenge the world.

It was powerful, it was penetrating to the soul.

[] NARRATOR: How did this young kid from a small rural town in the middle of nowhere become one of the leading musicians of the Chicano civil rights movement and go on to receive one of his nation's highest musical honors?

[] How did he and his generation find the courage to fight for social justice in the face of racism and discrimination?

[] How did he learn to use music and imagination to take us on a journey, a journey towards freedom?

CHUNKY: Pocho, take three!

[guitar music] CHUNKY: "Pocho", a name I was called as a kid With the intentions of degrading and humiliating me "Pocho", I wasn't exactly sure what it meant at first I felt emotional pain Before I ever comprehended its verbal meaning "Pocho" It promoted self-hatred and confusion As to who I was and what I was doing here "Pocho" NARRATOR: Chunky's journey began in Blythe, California.

It's a small rural community about 90 miles north of the U.S.-Mexico border.

It was a world, with two languages and two cultures existing side by side, often in an uneasy relationship.

CHUNKY: When my mother took me to kindergarten, I was scared.

I didn't know where I was going.

I walked in the classroom.

She took me in the classroom, everybody was speaking English.

I didn't speak any English at the time, even though I was born here.

I was scared.

My teacher looked at me.

I looked at her.

I thought I was like in a foreign country or something.

I started crying.

I ran out after her.

This went on like for two weeks, I went in and out and finally I got used to it.

[Chunky singing] NARRATOR: Like many of his Chicano classmates, Chunky spoke only Spanish when he started elementary school.

Many schools had little respect for the language and culture that young Chicanos brought to school with them.

CHUNKY: My name was Ramon when I started kindergarten But by the third grade everybody called me Raymond CHUNKY: Raymond, Raymond, hey, I was trying to adjust to this, you know what I mean, and if there was a girl named Maria, her name became Mary and Juanita became Jane.

Until one day we got a new student by the name of Facundo Gonzales, Facundo Gonzales.

When he came to school, we noticed they called an emergency administrative meeting.

We could kind of hear them talking through the door.

What are we going to do with this guy?

Man, you know what I mean.

How are we going to change his name, you know.

One teacher goes, well, you know what, why don't we try to shorten the name a little bit.

And they go, yeah, but how do you spell it?

F-A-C-U-N-D-O.

Why don't we just spell it FAC?

One of the teacher says, that means his name would be "Fac" and the other teacher looked at him and said, "No that sounds too much like a dirty word.

You can't be saying, "Fac, where's your homework?

Where's Fac at?"

you know what I mean.

But that was a trip that we always remembered going through elementary school because Facundo was the only guy who never got his name changed.

In changing your name you lose identity, you lose who you really are, who your parents named you.

We became ashamed of ourselves of who we were.

You know, like I said I was still bringing burritos but even so I was kind of ashamed, you know, to bring the burrito out for lunch.

I would go hide behind the building to eat my burrito man, you know.

But all that ashamedness, you know, came into play there and it molded you as a person and it wasn't good, it wasn't healthy for you, because you were trying to be something you weren't.

My mother was a housewife, stay at home.

My dad was a foreman for one of the farming companies here in the valley.

[ranchera music] Our home was situated on a piece of land with a bunch of agricultural fields behind us and to the side.

[ranchera music] My mom and father came across that border with no papers back in the '30s.

Back then, immigration really wasn't a big deal you know.

And eventually, they got naturalized here in Blythe.

I believe my mother came through Sonora and into Mexicali.

They gathered enough money to, one by one immigrate my grandmother and the rest of the siblings from Mexico.

And then they were all together as a family again.

[ranchera music] I personally never felt deprived because my parents always had a roof over our head, and it was a house they were able to buy.

We were never hungry.

So for me I was like, "Hey, I'm living the American dream.

What's the problem here?"

[jazz music] VIRGINIA: My mother liked a lot of Louis Armstrong songs.

And she liked the trumpet, so she decided Chunky was going to get music lessons, and he was going to play the trumpet.

So she rented a trumpet from one of the only music store in Blythe at the time.

Even though he was okay, he was never fantastic on the trumpet, but he would basically use the trumpet to torment us as kids, because, I remember, oh we might have been about 9, 10 years old, and every morning Chunky would wake up in the morning and play "Reveille".

["Reveille" plays] And he'd wake up the whole neighborhood.

And I was never a morning person so I really resented that and then of course every night, as the sun was setting, he'd go out and he'd play "Taps".

[Virginia laughs] So that was the, first like, musical moments that Chunky had.

["Taps" plays] CHUNKY: But as I was playing trumpet, I was picking other things up.

I started playing the drums.

[Motown music] I got pretty good at it.

I got recruited into a band.

So as a teenager I was playing in a band there called Soul Patrol.

We did a lot of, a lot of Motown stuff like that, you know.

[guitar music] VIRGINIA: My mother would teach Chunky how to harmonize.

And then of course he took an interest in the guitar because of my uncles.

They had the musical background.

They played guitars, they sang, my mother and her brothers.

They did a lot of old classical stuff like from Los Trios, from the thirties.

That influenced us as we were growing up.

[bolero music] VIRGINIA: My dad was old school and had a very clear definition of sexual roles.

Girls were with their mothers.

They were in the house.

They did housework.

They cooked.

They did your laundry.

That's where they functioned.

Men and boys went out to the fields and worked.

And so, Chunky being the oldest son he had, my dad would take Chunky with him at a very early age.

And he taught Chunky how to drive a pickup truck when Chunky was 10 years old.

[bolero music] He taught Chunky how to plant, so Chunky had that fieldwork experience very early on in life.

["Corrido del Fil" plays] NARRATOR: Working in the fields with his father, Chunky wondered if this was his future.

[ranchera music] Chunky's father and mother were like a lot of Mexican workers who had been crossing the border for generations.

There was always a huge demand for their labor in the mines, on the railroads and in the booming agricultural fields of the southwest.

Some were actively brought here by U.S. labor recruiters.

By the 1960s, a young community organizer named Cesar Chavez had been remarkably successful in organizing our country's poorest and most forgotten workers -- the farmworkers who were responsible for the food on our tables.

Chavez preached a philosophy of non-violence and imagined a better world for these workers.

Tactically, nonviolence is extremely effective.

But we say even more, we say that as a philosophy, as a way of life, perhaps, it's even more important.

Cesar Chavez came to Blythe I remember one time because there was a field office that was set up right there in Blythe right on main street.

I remember it created a lot of controversy.

He wasn't there that long but he came and gave a speech about organizing and he stirred up the town, let me tell you.

NARRATOR: Chavez and Dolores Huerta co-founded the United Farmworkers Union.

Before that, farmworkers had been virtually abandoned by organized labor.

Chavez and Huerta began the difficult task of organizing them, emphasizing the importance of self-determination and the dignity of their work.

[ranchera music] They seized upon a novel approach against the growers in order to improve the wages of farmworkers -- a nationwide boycott against eating grapes.

In a surprising victory beyond anyone's expectations, the boycott garnered the attention of Robert F. Kennedy and captured the imagination of many Americans who knew very little about how our food got on to our nation's tables.

When Chunky first saw Cesar Chavez, his horizons began to expand far beyond Blythe.

[applause] CHUNKY: He was very dynamic, he was calm, but yet he was powerful.

The way that he delivered the things that he was talking about, everything made sense.

It was like he was opening your eyes, you know, about very simple things that we always took for granted, you know.

Yeah, you know he's right.

[] We never had drinking water on the fields.

We always had to bring our own water.

You know, we never had toilet facilities out there, we always had to go into the bushes, you know, and the ladies that worked out there had to do the same thing, and that wasn't right.

And maybe a little higher wage wouldn't be too bad either.

[] One day I was working during the weekends at a ranch right there in Blythe for a rancher.

And the rancher was down there watching along with my dad.

And he told my father, he said "You know, Ramon, some day when you're not here anymore, your son is going to make a very good foreman on this ranch."

[Chunky chuckles] So I said this guy has already got plans for me, man.

You know what I mean?

He's already got my whole life planned out.

And I said I need to get out of here.

[crowd cheering] ["Hasta Siempre", by Carlos Puebla plays] NARRATOR: The world around Chunky was changing dramatically.

Fidel Castro had consolidated the Cuban revolution.

The Vietnam War provoked anti-war protests around the country.

An expanding civil rights movement spurred waves of demonstrations.

African Americans and others without access to power and privilege demanded a place at the table.

Mexican Americans were marching and demonstrating in cities across the southwest.

The movimiento, as it came to be called, put us on the national stage for the first time.

We came here to build the new Chicano movement, that's what we came here for.

[crowd chanting] You cannot close your eyes and your ears to us any longer.

You cannot pretend that we do not exist.

[crowd clamoring] They announced that they will not recognize the association and they will not bargain with us so, let the strike continue.

CROWD: Let the strike continue!

NARRATION: In our nation's capitol, President Lyndon Johnson backed landmark legislation aimed at securing and guaranteeing the civil rights and voting rights of powerless communities.

[] In order to level the playing field, the federal government created affirmative action - a national program to help historically excluded and disadvantaged students attend college.

Chunky was a perfect candidate for the program.

A local activist and friend of the family, Miguel Figueroa, was instrumental in helping Chunky apply to college.

MIGUEL FIGUEROA: Chunky wasn't very impressive back in those days.

He wasn't a great football player, or basketball player or anything like that.

He was just Chunky, and he wanted to go to college.

The original plan through the Mexican American Political Association was that we were going to educate our youth, and they were going to come back to their respective communities and build community there.

They were going to become the chief of police, the postmasters, the superintendent of schools, the principals.

They were going to build our community and enjoy the American dream.

They were going to be like everybody else, only when they became the leaders, we thought, we would end discrimination.

CHUNKY: Not too long after that I went to check the mail right there in front of my house in Blythe and there was a letter there from San Diego State College.

It had my name on it, so I opened it up.

And it said "Congratulations; you have been accepted to San Diego State."

You know I didn't know whether to jump for joy or, you know or get scared.

It was a culture shock.

The town I came from had like 9,000 people.

And then we came to San Diego State and come to find that San Diego State had a population of 20,000 at that time.

The school was twice as big as the town I came from.

HERMAN BACA: There was 68 Spanish surnames, not necessarily Mexicans.

It could have been Filipinos.

It could have been persons from South America.

It could have been people from Mexico, but 68 out of a student enrollment of 20,000.

He was wandering around campus.

A little short, well rounded kid.

He's still well rounded, as a matter of fact.

But it seemed like he was lost.

CHUNKY: Had it not been for the Chicano Studies Department and a professor by the name of Jose Villarino who kind of took me under his wing, you know, and kept me focused.

Because you can get frightened to a certain extent, where you just say, well, forget all this.

I'm going back home and be a farmer all my life you know.

The teachers show up you know with ties and white shirts, and you know long sleeved shirts and teach a class.

We took a class called Aztec Thought and Culture.

And here comes Alurista, a little short guy, small, beads around his neck and talking broken English, and Spanish, and slang, and everything else.

Dust turns with time and space remains occupied Flesh merely passes and huesos waited to pulverize And be the wind to caress mariposas Into papaloteados across the fleeting light of dusk CHUNKY: You know it was a whole different dimension.

People would look at him, "Man, this is the teacher?"

You know we asked ourselves, "This is the teacher?"

OK. What it is is what it does What it's done is what it was What it will be is what it'll do What it'll do will someday be When what does is what it is [laughter, applause] CHUNKY: But lo and behold, man, the guy, he opened our eyes to a lot of things that we were not aware of, growing up as Chicanos that put a lot of the puzzle together for us.

And in putting that puzzle together, we also put our, we put our conscience together, our minds together, our souls, our spirits.

[drums playing] NARRATOR: As Chunky's eyes were opened, he learned more about our community's history.

He connected more directly with his indigenous background.

His mother's family was Yaqui Indian from Sonora and he found strength in his indigenous identity.

[music continues] CHUNKY: I think we learned from the indigenous brothers and sisters.

We don't own anything.

When we die, we don't take nothing with us.

This land is here for everybody.

[drums continue] NARRATOR: Chunky began to understand the many ways in which our community had been silenced and kept powerless.

[drums continue] But the next chapter in his education would come from a park which didn't even exist yet.

[guitar music] Many cities around the country were undergoing a redevelopment process called urban renewal.

It sounded positive but it devastated many inner city communities.

In San Diego, under the guise of urban renewal, a new interstate highway divided the Chicano community in two.

To make amends, the state of California promised to build a community park in the barrio.

Instead, without warning, the city abandoned that plan and began building a highway patrol station on the land designated for the community park.

The City of San Diego had promised this land to the Logan Heights community and then they reneged, saying you know "Chale," we are going to build a Highway Patrol substation here.

I remember we got a call, and so they asked for help.

We talked about it, and I remember him saying "Are you going to go?"

And I said "Absolutely."

And a lot of students went.

He was in a Chicano Studies class and they alerted us and we all stopped our classes and marched over to the park.

CHUNKY: I said to myself, you know, I want to be part of this.

I want to be part of this whole - I didn't call it a movement at the time - but whatever it was, I wanted to be a part of it.

You know here I was, a farm kid fresh in the city, you know, big university, like that.

I wasn't sure what we were going up against.

People were saying that the police might be there, we may get in trouble, you know, I had never really been in any serious trouble with the police.

They would say, "We might go to jail."

Well you know we're already on our way, I can't turn back now.

A lot of things were going through my mind.

What are we going to do when we get there?

You know being on strike is very boring because all you do is walk in circles.

So one day we thought, "What can we do to liven it up.

Hey, bring your guitar or something."

So we brought a guitar.

[ranchera music] And then we realize, "Hey, there's things happening, let's write a verse about this."

So we began to write verses about things that were happening, next thing you know we got two verses, then we got three, then we got four, hey we got a song now, La Guitara Campesina.

[] When I was there, I looked around and I saw the seriousness of the people, you know.

It's something I had never really seen in people struggling, you know, the kids digging the ground, the grandmothers yelling at people and telling them, "Hey, do this, do that."

And yet at the same time, they were making food for everybody.

It was unbelievable.

I said, "Wow, these people are for real!

And I began to see the power that was in music.

[Chunky singing 'La Guitarra Campesina'] I think for the first time in my life I saw some people that were very, you could see it in them that were dedicated, committed, believing in something.

And that really inspired me and made me say to myself inside, you know, "I want to be part of this.

I want to be like these people.

I want to be able to feel dedicated and committed to something, to a good cause and to me the issue of Chicano Park was that cause.

I felt an energy, something that just, boom, went right through me.

[] In the year 1970 In the city of San Diego under the Coronado Bridge Lied a little piece of land A little piece of land that The Chicano community of Logan Heights Wanted to make into a park A park where all the chavalitos could come and play in So they wouldn't have to play in the street And get run over by a car A park, where all the viejitos could come en la tarde And just sit down and watch the sun go down A park where all the familias could come And just get together on a Sunday afternoon And celebrate the spirit of life itself But the city of San Diego said "chale" We're going to make a highway patrol substation here So on April 22nd, 1970 La Raza of Logan Heights and other Chicano communities Got together and they walked on the land And they took it over with their picks and their shovels And they began to build their own park CHUNKY: We think of a park as a park, but when you really stop and look at it, a park is a very sacred part of our community.

A park is where you take your children to go play.

A park is where you go talk to people and exchange ideas, you know.

It's a sacred place.

It's almost like going to church.

You're going to go there to interact with the community.

Chicano Park was very important because it taught us that if you want something in life, you have to work for it.

You have to struggle for it.

Nothing is going to be handed to you on a silver platter.

[Chunky singing] Under the bridge Under the bridge [ranchera music] NARRATOR: Chunky had arrived in San Diego at a crucial moment.

The city's Chicano community fighting for self-determination on many fronts.

The takeover of Chicano Park led the park to become a permanent artistic and cultural monument for the community.

Activists also created a cultural center in Balboa Park, a social service agency in the barrio and the nation's first Mexican American Studies Department at San Diego State.

These victories gave the Chicano community a new sense of empowerment.

For Chunky, music would be at the center of his journey.

[] ESTEVAN AZCONA: In San Diego you had, groups like La Rondalla Amerindia de Aztlan, formed as a group of students at San Diego State University in the Chicano Studies department, who were coming together, learning songs under the direction of one of the professors, Jose Villarino.

And they would go out to marches and rallies, here locally and up and down the state.

["Huelga en General" plays] CHUNKY: Dr. Villarino got us involved with La Rondalla Amerindia.

We took it, in a very sacred way.

It began to open our eyes, and we began to see music as a teaching methodology, as an inspirational methodology.

You know especially when we played for the farm workers.

MARCO ANTONIO RODRIGUEZ: We started getting more and more involved with the farm workers, to the point that we participated at the farm workers convention in Fresno.

La Rondalla was invited by Cesar Chavez to go and perform at the farm workers convention, every year for I think about four or five years.

CHUNKY: We began to follow Cesar through the State of California on his campaign you know and just opening up the rallies for him.

This was very enlightening as well, because you learned a lot.

[] GUS CHAVEZ: When Chunky came into the picture and applied the guitar and the music, you know, it just changed all of the dynamics of the student movement.

Because they were it!

In addition to that, it was the anti-war movement at the same time.

And he started incorporating -- some of the language of the anti-war into his songs, and pushing for education over war.

And again, it just kind of captured the spirit of what the whole struggle was about.

So the musical aspect just gave a whole different twist to the emotional side of the struggle.

There was no hesitation.

He was totally committed to blending his music into the struggle.

MIGUEL VAZQUEZ: We'd be out in the back of a pickup truck and the strikes.

And we'd be with the picketers in front of the fields, out there like in the Bakersfield area, out in the country.

And a lot of esquiroles were there.

So we'd be singing to them.

We'd be holding a couple of, people would be holding a couple of the loud speakers.

And we'd be jamming and singing to them.

And then I'd start talking to them.

I'd say, [in Spanish] "OK, If you want another song, throw a peach."

So they'd throw a peach up you know.

They wanted another song.

Almost all Mexicanos, right?

So we knew they would love the music.

So we'd sing them another song and that we just, that was kind of the catch that that we, the members of La Rondalla, were helping pull esquiroles out of the fields.

Pretty soon we'd ask them to come out and join the other brothers and the union.

Pretty soon, you'd see them coming out of the fields.

It was pretty cool, the music you know carries a heavy message.

[] MIGUEL VAZQUEZ: Music was a, was very big tool for Cesar.

He wouldn't let people talk for too long without bringing in somebody to sing a song.

MARCO ANTONIO RODRIGUEZ: We started learning more songs about anything that was anti-imperialist or talked about the farm worker or the oppressed, and so forth.

It was something that we were attracted to and we wanted to share, you know, with our listeners.

[siren, radio chatter] There was always a possibility of violence.

And we knew about, about what had happened to, to farm workers before you know, that were beaten up in that same type of demonstration.

[screaming] We had eggs thrown at us.

We had tomatoes thrown at us.

People would even spit on us sometimes.

I had people that would actually shove me, push me, tear my, and the first thing I thought, you know I was like 22, 23 years old, I wanted to crack their heads, but I knew that wasn't the best way to do it.

So we would walk.

We would, we would just walk away and go set up somewhere else and start playing somewhere else.

It was just very inspiring to see grown men turning the other cheek and walking away, because they knew that was a strong thing to do.

Cesar always said that music was always part of a movement.

And that musicians always had a place in the Farm Worker Movement.

And he was very, very appreciative of our music and our contribution.

[] LINDA LEGERRETTE: Whenever there was any kind of an event that the farmworkers were having, Cesar would always call or he'd have someone call and say, "Can you get Chunky to come up and play for us?"

I mean, he just loved Chunky, so it wasn't just me, I mean, other people just loved the kind of magic that Chunky brought when he played his music.

[] CARLOS: Chunky was absolutely Cesar Chavez's favorite musician.

He starts to become an icon in the southwest.

[] What I really liked about the music is how it brought people together.

It was a great way to bring people together, when you think about just that and other historical movements if you will, music is a big part of it.

[Chunky singing] CHUNKY: Touring up and down with this group, playing everywhere, broadened my views and my visions on life itself, on people, on dealing with people, you know.

Coming from the small farm town, I began to realize that there was a lot more to life and to the world than what was back in that small town.

MARCO ANTONIO: We started to go to places like UCLA, Santa Barbara, Berkeley, San Francisco State.

[] We met Joan Baez at the Farm Workers conventions in Fresno, because she was also invited to play for the farm workers at the convention, at least on four occasions that I can remember.

And she heard us play at the convention and then invited us to participate in recording a song, No Nos Moveran , a record that she was producing at the time in Spanish.

[] MARCO ANTONIO: It was kind of incredible that such an artist like Joan Baez would invite us to sing in one of her records.

And that was also a very rewarding experience, a very touching experience for all of us.

I think it brought the group a little more, more together.

We shall not be moved [crowd chanting] [indistinct shouting] NARRATOR: Young people all over the world were demonstrating and demanding change.

In Mexico and Latin America, artists and musicians were taking up the call for social revolution.

In 1973, Chunky decided to visit Mexico City for the first time to learn more about the country where his parents were born.

He was joining many Chicanos who were traveling to Mexico with the same curiosity, eager to visit their homeland.

It was like a pilgrimage.

[] In Mexico, Chicanos were meeting other young Mexicans who shared a commitment to the proposition that the Americas didn't begin or end at the US-Mexico border.

[] For Chunky, Mexico City was a stunning revelation.

[] CHUNKY: I was flabbergasted by the Pyramids, the mercados.

Everything was Mexican.

This was my roots.

Where have you been all my life, you know what I mean.

[] You climb the Pyramid of the Sun and you stand up there, open your arms up to the gods, man.

It was like a whole reincarnation of you as a person.

This is what Moms was talking about.

This is where Pops came from.

[] It was like a little kid finding a new candy store man, you know that he didn't know existed.

NARRATOR: A few years before Chunky arrived, Mexico City had hosted the first Olympics to be held in a developing country.

The exorbitant cost of the games led to many social protests.

But the government was determined to prevent anyone from staining Mexico's moment in the global spotlight.

On October 2, 1968, the police and military crushed a student demonstration in the Plaza de las Tres Culturas.

[people screaming] Before it was over, an estimated 300-400 protestors were killed in the Tlatelolco section of the city.

[] Throughout Latin America, musicians were putting their lives at risk, protesting oppressive and abusive actions on the part of their political leaders.

It was during these turbulent times that Chunky arrived in Mexico.

That was '73, it was only a few years after the massacre in Tlatelolco with the students and everything, and lot of these issues were still hot.

During this visit he had the opportunity to attend a festival of protest songs -- of Latin American protest song.

There was a big concert being held.

It was a great opportunity to take the Chicano struggle to an international stage.

And lo and behold I got there on the day that they were having this big musical festival in Mexico City.

The protest music of Latin America.

And there was all these people.

The whole place was packed.

It was a political, musical event.

Mercedes Sosa, Gabino Palomares.

CHUNKY: Los Folkloristas.

Everybody and anybody that was anything in protest music at the time was there.

[] I got there and one of the organizers said "You know what, we have all kinds of representation here but we don't have anybody representing Chicanos.

Would you like to represent Chicanos?"

I said "OK." And I did some huelga songs and talked about Cesar Chavez and how that was all related to everything that was happening there.

CHUNKY: I realized how serious protest music was and the importance that it played in their movement and it was just as necessary to their movement, the protest music, as it was for a guerillero in the mountains to have a weapon.

When I came back to San Diego after that I was fired up.

I produced a cancionero, a song book of protest songs called Cantos Rebeldes de las Americas and if you looked at the guitar, as it goes out, it transforms into a rifle barrel.

I began to realize the songs could be used not just to entertain people and get them drunk and get them happy and hung over, but rather also to educate them and put a consciousness in their minds, in their hearts, in their souls, that they are worth something, that they do have value in this life, that they can struggle for something better, and they don't have to be put down all the time.

And that's why I came back with all that energy That's when I began to realize...that...

I couldn't really go back to the Rondalla and implement that...it would be better for me to begin to develop another group and the only guy that was really listening to me and learning the songs with me was my brother Rick... so hey there's two of us.

[] I was influenced by a variety of different things, my mother's music, Los Trios, the sixties music, it was just like a whole capirotada, a whole mixture of different things that began to influence me.

[] NARRATOR: Chunky was joining a larger artistic movement of singers and artists emerging out of the movimiento of the Chicano Civil Rights Movement.

This included Los Lobos, Luis Valdez and El Teatro Campesino along with talented singers Daniel Valdez, Agustin Lira, Delia Moreno, Jesus "Chuy" Negrete, and Veto Ruiz.

They sang about Aztlan and the ancestral rights that Chicanos had to this legendary homeland.

Musical groups included Flor del Pueblo, Conjunto Aztlan, Los Perros del Pueblo and Los Peludos.

You know things that we went through kind of led up to this corrido right here that we're going to do for you called the Trilingual Corrido because it's in English, Spanish and barrio dialect.

[] I began to realize that we had no borders, that there were no borders to, to wanting to appreciate and to play different types of music and later on, as I began to develop, I realized that you could take from both sides of the border, and combine them and come up with a new style of music - bilingualism, biculturalism.

[] Mexican, Spanish and Spanglish, the whole song goes back and forth.

Even though you speak Spanglish, you understand what's happening.

And it was funny, it was entertaining but it was very heavy.

Somebody called us to go do a pea in LA we didn't have a name yet.

They asked him the name of the group.

We're the "Los Alacranes Mojados," being silly and they took it for real and they put that on the chart over there in concert you know in La Pea in LA in the Haymarket, "Los Alacranes Mojados."

(The Wetback Scorpions) They asked Chunky, "Why the scorpion?

You know why not a dog, or a, I don't know a cat, or..." [laughs] and he said, "Well, at that time like our music was kind of like relevant to what the scorpion does, where with his tail, the scorpion injects his venom into its prey.

And with our music, we inject consciousness into the audience with the songs."

CHUNKY: People would say why do you use mojados?

Because we took a negative word that's always used in our neighborhood, even by our own people, you know like against our own people.

You know the undocumented worker you know, el mojado, you know the "illegal alien" We would joke about it.

We would joke about being a wetback, you know, and do this thing.

I'm a wetback, you know?

Because that's -- that was what we were thought of.

We wanted to take that word mojado and to give it a positive connotation and to give it some pride.

[] MARIO AGUILAR: In San Diego there really wasn't a group like Los Alacranes Mojados... because at that time, many groups didn't create music, Chicano music.

Music you can dance to, you can sing to, you can drink to, but it had a lot of profound meaning behind the melodies and the words because it talked about our reality as Chicanos.

JOSIE TALAMANTEZ: Chicanos created their own space, our own identity.

And the third space, as it's referred to, is primarily because we didn't fit anywhere.

You know you don't quite fit in Mexico, you don't quite fit over here.

We go to Mexico, we're pochos or gringos.

In the United States, we can be here ten generations, we're still Mexicans, you know, go back from where you came from.

So we said OK what do we do now?

We create our own space.

So that's where Chunky fits, you know.

[] NARRATOR: Chicanos were experiencing discrimination on many fronts.

Besides being denied basic rights in the United States, some Mexicans saw us as traitors to their country.

We found ourselves caught in the middle between two middle between two societies that simultaneously rejected us.

Because some of us no longer spoke fluent Spanish, some Mexicans saw us as "not Mexican enough."

They called us "pochos".

CHUNKY: "Pocho" I knew I was Mexican I looked Mexican But why did I have trouble speaking Spanish?

[] "Pocho" All the confusion aroused the curiosity in me I began to question the implications of the word "Pocho" Does the label really fit me?

Maybe it does And if it does, is it my fault?

CHUNKY: Pochismo, the culture of pochismo was very prevalent in you.

I remember my mother correcting me many times, "Don't talk like that," You're talking like a gang member.

When I would say the word "ese, orale" or something.

You were always being corrected about the way speak, you weren't speaking properly, you weren't speaking right.

What the hell, but what is the right language man, you know what I mean?

"Pocho" I began to realize That I had absorbed the strengths of two cultures and lifestyles Was that good or bad?

"Pocho" Good, qu no?

I have an innovative way of expressing myself That relates to both sides of the border "Pocho" What'll it be today?

Tacos or hamburgers?

Pedro Infante or the Rolling Stones?

MIGUEL VAZQUEZ: I got tears in my eyes the first time that I heard that.

It was tough.

I didn't speak English until I started school and I didn't realize that anybody else understood what I went through as much as, obviously, Chunky did.

And in our third space, right here in the middle, we are Chicanos, and here's a place where we're safe, where we know who we are, we know where we come from, we know where we want to go, and it doesn't matter what the other two spaces think of us because this is our place, this is our land.

CHUNKY: You know what?

I am a pocho.

A proud pocho Proud because I have survived cultural denials And attacks on my soul "Pocho" Si mon que yes, soy Ramn Sanchez But better known as Chunky A little bit of that and a little bit of this That's who I am one bad ass pocho Qutate before I get mad, ese [] [] MARIO: Chunky told me, you know, we're going to record an album.

We wanted to see if you would play violin on a couple of tracks.

And I said sure, that'd be awesome, you know.

We did our first album as a group here in San Diego called Rolas de Aztlan.

We were thinking about what are we going to put on the front cover.

We didn't want to be just standing there, you know, holding our guitars, you know, looking pretty.

So what we said you know what would be a good picture, is Los Alacranes Mojados, is jumping a fence, right.

So we start thinking, so where's a good fence around the neighborhood here, and we thought you know what, that's not right because we'd be lying to the people, if we just jumped over a fence right here in the neighborhood, if we're going to jump a fence let's jump the real fence.

[] So here we go the next day with our instruments and stuff and we found the fence and we saw an area that didn't have a whole lot of barb wires.

MARIO: It's on that road that goes right by the border.

So people are driving by, they're slowing down, like what are these locos doing?

They're crossing the border into Mexico this way?

That's crazy.

Back then I could still climb a fence, man, so here I go up the fence I'm on top and I throw one leg over and I'm holding myself up and then my arms start getting tired and I start going down the fence against the little jagged thing.

So I asked them they gave me a towel then they handed me one instrument and the other two posed on the bottom like we were handing them the instruments as we were coming over.

MARIO: And so before we know it, there's a bunch of people on the Mexican side, watching us.

Right in the middle of doing all this we see the immigration helicopter, the migra coming.

There's a jeep hauling ass right towards us too, immigration.

A Patrol Officer jumps out in his green uniform with a radio in his hand, and he says, "Chunky, is that you?"

[laughter] It was a friend of mine from Blythe, California that I went to school with named Romero Garcia.

So before we know it, the immigration guy's there drinking beers with us, and the people in Mexico are sitting there applauding, and we're singing, and then when we're done we look at our ice chest and all our beers are gone.

So, it was, quite a, like I said, a once in a lifetime experience, to be there for the Alacrnes first international concert.

We started getting a lot of gigs in the universities, the colleges, the junior colleges, you know a lot of MECHAs.

And we stayed pretty busy.

We stayed real busy.

So it was exciting.

It was a really fun time, it was a time where we got to see things that we may have never seen if we just lived in our own areas.

We experienced different people.

We experienced what it means to be Chicano in Denver, versus El Paso, versus Phoenix, versus San Diego, versus Central Valley.

So it was an eye opener, it was an eye opener in terms of who we are as Chicanos.

[] NARRATOR: On the national stage, the civil rights movements of African Americans, women, and Chicanos led to many victories for these historically excluded communities.

Many Americans celebrated these achievements but not everyone did.

After Ronald Reagan was elected President in 1980, he and his supporters passed legislation which scaled back federal civil rights protections, weakened the social safety net and redistributed wealth from the bottom to the top.

As Chicanos and other communities of color experienced ongoing discrimination, Chunky looked for ways to continue getting his message across.

We had people that were against Huelga songs, you know.

They didn't want to hear anything that had to do with Cesar Chavez.

Some of the schools didn't want us to do anything to do with Chavez.

So we said, "Okay we won't do El Picket Sign, but we'll do De Colores."

[] De Colores speaks of many colors, many colors put together to make one beautiful thing, like a sarape , you know, and the Union was comprised of many different people, you know, Arab farm workers, Filipino farm workers, Mexican farm workers, Anglo farm workers.

So that was like the sarape that we were talking about.

ESTEVAN AZCONA: You don't feel locked in or left out of Chunky's music.

You feel included.

There's something about his style of songwriting, his style of music-making that opens up all the possibilities.

I think the inclusiveness that's part of Chunky's music has manifested itself within the ensemble, right, Don Knapp being the best example.

When I actually asked if I could join the group, and we started playing, I knew that that's where I wanted to be.

[] ESTEVAN: And Chunky will say Don Knapp may not be Mexican, but he's as much Chicano as anybody he knows, understanding the struggles of the community, empathizing with them, being one with them.

[] DON KNAPP: I knew nothing but Mexican music my whole life.

Although I'm Anglo by blood, I was raised as a Mexican from the age of four years old.

So everything I did, I breathed and I spoke, everything I did was from my heart and was from a Mexican background.

CHUNKY: He's Anglo you know, from... looking at him.

But his heart and his soul and his inspiration, the guy carried the Chicanismo with him all the way, especially in music.

People would listen to the music and they could see this big tall white guy, and he'd say, "Okay, Guero, sing a song."

And I would sing a song in Spanish."

DON KNAPP: It was awesome.

Not only did we play music that people maybe wanted to hear but the message was, "It was okay to be white.

It was okay to be Mexican.

It's okay to play the music together."

Chunky played the crowd.

It was kind of one of the things we did.

We were breaking down those barriers.

[cheers and applause] Well, we began to experience a whole bunch of things, man.

Number one was that a lot of people were not really ready to, to listen to a whole lot of protest music man.

So we began to realize that we had to have a balance somewhere in there if we didn't want to lose our crowds and our audiences, because people didn't want to come to hear you lecture, they wanted to hear some music.

So we had to make them laugh in between the songs because we found that when people are laughing they will swallow things a lot better.

To a lot of us, in the history books in this country, Pancho Villa is just another fat Mexican with a mustache.

Man, there's a whole bunch of those, verdad?

Qu no?

[laughter] They always stereotype us as looking that way.

But we know that we're not that way, man.

[laughter] But one of the greatest generals in the history of Mexico's armies, Don Francisco "Pancho" Villa and we dedicate this corrido on his behalf.

[] [] We began to learn to master capturing the attention spell of the audiences, you know.

It was a learning experience in many ways with Los Alacranes.

That was one, music was another, learning constantly, learning songs, learning songs, writing songs, we began to write songs about things that were happening around us.

"Chicano Park", you know, "El Corrido del Fil, "El Trilingual Corrido", even got silly at times, you know, put love in a different perspective with "Chorizo Sandwich".

[] You cheated, you lied You said that you loved me You cheated, you lied You said that you need me Oooh What can I do I remember the night I remember the night when I told you I was hungry for you love, Chata.

[laughter] Yes I was hungry for your love, man, but what did you do, what did you do?

You went in to the kitchen you went in to the kitchen and you fixed me a chorizo sandwich, man.

[laughter] Chorizo, chorizo, chorizo... Whoa, oh, oh, oh Chorizo, chorizo, chorizo... We began to understand performing tactics and techniques of how to get across to an audience and how not to lose an audience.

Chorizo, chorizo, chorizo... Chorizo... I'm not a thousand huevos away [cheers and applause] I remember one moment we were performing somewhere, it was around Christmas time, my son was maybe four or five months old and we were performing and everybody was outside, they were a Caucasian community.

And so we said, well, they're paying for us to play, let's go outside and play for them.

So we went outside and they all went in.

So then we said well let's go in, and then they all went outside and finally the lady comes up and says, "You guys stand over there and don't move."

And it was like really obvious that we were just background music.

I believe that Chunky, in choosing this path for his life, I'm sure that there was sacrifice and has been sacrifice for him.

Because it's not a career that provides -- provides well.

Besides many of the values of Cesar Chavez that Chunky possesses, I think the one is sacrifice that really personifies Chunky.

He could've gone on and done something else.

Sometimes I wonder, you know, why I didn't do something else.

Where I could be right now pretty well off, real rich, you know, basking in the sun somewhere.

I'm not dirt poor.

I could be better off financially, but something just kept me going in the things that I was doing, in the cultural work that I was doing, that later on I realized, you know what, because there were times when I doubted myself.

What am I doing wrong?

Am I doing the wrong thing?

[] NARRATOR: Chunky was still wondering if he had made the right choice in committing to a life of service to his community.

[] Like many artists inspired by the Chicano movement, Chunky struggled to find a balance between his professional career and his personal life.

He married Isabel Enrique and within 10 years, the family had grown to six children.

As Chunky struggled to provide for his family, he took a variety of jobs.

[] Assisting every year with the annual celebration of Chicano Park as a member of the Steering Committee, being a community liaison with the schools, working on gang prevention, teaching music and coaching little league.

He scored music for several documentary films including The Lemon Grove Incident.

His band continued to perform at rallys, fundraisers, quinceaeras, weddings, and prisons.

Through it all he used art to build community.

Many local schools invited Chunky to come and perform.

There he saw young people struggling with many of the same issues of identity and racism which he had confronted a generation earlier.

[] And, you know, all of this is based on one thing, man.

Orgullo.

Pride.

What everybody here in this room has right here, man.

Pride.

Orgullo.

A lot of times you're down and out, you're on the streets, you got no money, your girlfriend left you, your boyfriend left you, whatever, you know -- all bummed out, you want to cry, you know, feel sorry for yourself.

You know.

[laughter] "Chale".

But you know what?

Something keeps you hanging on, man.

Something pulls you through it.

And what's that?

Pride, qu no?

Orgullo.

Orgullo.

They asked me to go do a presentation at Hoover High and I figured I'm gonna talk to these Mexican American kids.

I just don't want to walk in there and start singing a whole bunch of ranchera songs, borracho songs, just like another mariachi.

What can I go in there and talk to them about and perform to them that will motivate them to find themselves.

He was just this, this presence of energy, right, that just was amazing.

And you know he would come with his guitar, and you know as soon as he walked in, everybody was going you know wild.

I remember hearing them and thinking wow.

Wow, this is great... great music, because part of the, again, academic experience was learning... learning some, you know, literature around history of... of oppressed peoples in the U.S.

CHUNKY: If you want to learn history, learn the real history, not the history that was fabricated about something because of political reasons.

And that's why I got the idea to do that little chronological history, all the way from the pre-Hispanic era to the present.

[] That was the magic, the moment that I saw him and the group as a 17-year-old young woman.

I think one of the earliest influences and one of the greatest because it was so early on, was how he imparted that example to me as a student watching him perform, and impart this, this history, and this culture, and this pride, and feeling that, you know, our people did something, that we do matter.

It's party music.

It's festive music, celebratory.

But it's also consciousness raising music.

And so I think it really stuck with me for, forever.

[crowd chanting] CHUNKY: The scourge of history are on my face and in the veins of my body that aches I do not ask for freedom.

We are freedom!

[crowd cheers] NARRATOR: In 2006, Chunky participated in the biggest public demonstration in San Diego history.

As the Latino community became the largest ethnic minority group in the country, shrill voices fanned the flames of bigotry and discrimination.

We saw a growing chorus of anti-immigrant rhetoric across the nation, afraid of the increasingly diverse country we had become.

Chunky joined over 2 million people around the United States protesting a bill in Congress which would make felons out of all undocumented immigrants.

Some people can say, you know, that "Some of this music that has social justice lyrics, and social justice meaning.

It's so pass.

It's so '60s, it's so '70s."

I would say that's kind of a cynical attitude.

A lot of these social justice songs are just as meaningful today as they were, 20, 30 years ago.

It's never going to go out of style.

Unfortunately, injustice will always be around, and it will always be in style in different ways.

[crowd cheering] The reason I call myself a "Chunkista" is because I want to be an artist like Chunky that stays active and in the movement over the course of their lifetimes.

CHUNKY: When you bring the people out to the streets, like today, people get a visual idea of how many people are really upset with what's going on.

And that's great.

If we could mobilize people like this all the time, we could change the world.

He's still doing what he did back then.

Many individuals have forgotten that.

Many people don't want to look back, right.

I think Chunky looks back with great pride, knowing what he's been able to do with himself.

The picket sign, the picket sign I carry it all day with me NARRATOR: Chunky still plays these inspirational songs from the civil rights movement but he finds a way to make them relevant to current struggles.

Many young Latinos no longer use the term "Chicano" to identify themselves.

And they know very little about the Chicano civil rights movement.

CROWD: Strike!

Strike!

But Chunky's music still speaks to the hearts and souls of so many.

[crowd chanting] It may be hard to see at times but those earlier movements achieved many victories, using art and imagination to create community in the battle for justice.

Strike!

Strike!

Strike!

Strike!

Chunky is much more than a musician.

So music, I -- I think, to him, was always a tool that he used, that he knew strengthened the people around him.

He's the real deal.

And it's obvious that he really is compassionate about whatever he's singing about.

While he's singing it, he's acting it, and you're feeling it so you believe it.

Strike!

Strike!

I carry it all day with me The picket sign, the picket sign With me throughout my life [crowd cheers] He's always had three, four, five balls up in the air, and he's been tossing 'em around and he's been juggling them.

That, in and of itself, takes a toll on people's body.

I haven't figured out to what extent but I do think there is a certain amount of denial in his health.

[] Because of his sense of social justice I think he has a tendency to say "Hey, it doesn't matter.

This is important enough for me to make a personal sacrifice with my body regardless of how tired I am or if my voice is going.

I'll go where I can do the most good."

Basically when the band started, when Los Lobos started, we... we decided to put all our electric instruments away and concentrate on learning how to play Mexican folk music.

And we thought wow, we're the first Chicanos to do this you know.

And then, all along we didn't realize that there was a band in San Diego doing the same thing.

Guantanamera Guajira Guantanamera Guantanamera Guajira Guantanamera We came down to San Diego and we met this... these wild and crazy guys that were kind of doing something that was kinda close to what we were doing.

[] [cheers and applause] You know I was watching him when he was singing today and there was that look in his eyes.

You know when he's singing it, he's believing every word he's saying.

You know he's just incredible.

[] CONRAD LOZANO: The community really loves him, and they really cherish what he does.

You know, I'm proud of the guy.

I'm proud of him.

I mean we don't have that kind of a connection with our community like he does.

That's really special.

NARRATOR: In the fall of 2013, Chunky was invited to be recognized at the Library of Congress in Washington DC.

Every year the National Endowment for the Arts honors our nation's folk and traditional artists for their efforts to conserve America's culture for future generations.

When he first received the invitation, it didn't look like he would be able to travel.

But at the last moment, his doctors gave him the okay to come.

[cheers and applause] Chunky had never been to our nation's capital.

Previous honorees include B.B.King, Flaco Jimenez, Doc Watson, Lydia Mendoza, and Bill Monroe.

[applause] So from San Diego, California, an artist committed to both community and conscience, a teacher who mentors local youth and educates students through a rich mix of storytelling, humor and song.

For his contributions to the excellence of Chicano music and culture, the National Endowment for the Arts honors Ramon "Chunky" Sanchez.

[applause] CHUNKY: I want to thank my wife who's here, Isabel.

I have two sons that are here, Mauricio and Ramon, two daughters, Izcalli, Esmi, and my grandson Trey, right there.

[applause] [crowd chatter] CHUNKY: A lot of people didn't understand, what is Chicano?

Well to me, Chicano is not necessarily someone that was born in a certain place but rather a state of mind and a state of heart and understanding.

[cheers and applause] NICK SPITZER: Will you be alright if I put the guitar in Chunky's hands?

[crowd cheers] Here we go.

Ready?

NICK SPITZER: Vamos.

[] Well it's time to shine the light On the young souls of the Earth Let it shine and illuminate The beauty of their worth Well it's time to shine the light On the young souls of the Earth Let it shine and illuminate The beauty of their worth We got to educate, yeah Not incarcerate [crowd cheers] So the humanity will shine Educate Not incarcerate CHUNKY: This was my mission.

If God put me on earth to do something, this is what he put me here to do, and I have no other obligation but to fulfill this mission, to the end of my time.

My mission was not to work in Hollywood.

My mission was to work in the barrios, in the fields, in the prisons, in the schools.

Anywhere there was people that needed to hear something inspirational, that's where my mission was, and still is.

And that's the way I look at it.

It's been a mission, continues to be a mission, and I'm still on duty as you say... still on duty.

Let it shine and illuminate The beauty of their worth Well it's time to shine the light On the young souls of the Earth Let it shine... NARRATOR: We lost Chunky on October 28, 2016.

He is survived by his wife and five children and 16 grandchildren.

Hundreds of friends and family attended his services in San Diego, celebrating his life and work through three days of ceremonies.

Chunky was a master storyteller whose battle for dignity and justice is more relevant than ever.

No need to kill another Over a neighborhood Vamos mis amigos Let's try some brotherhood No need to kill another Over a neighborhood We got to educate, not incarcerate [cheering] So the humanity will shine [crowd clapping hands in rhythm] Educate, not incarcerate So the humanity will shine Nothing really glamorous About living in a cell Sometimes you got to wonder If you're really not in Hell We got to educate, not incarcerate [crowd clapping hands in rhythm] So the humanity will shine We got to educate, not incarcerate So the humanity will shine The will to want to learn In all our hearts we hold Like brother Cesar Chavez And Dr. King have told We got to educate, not incarcerate So the humanity Will shine [cheers and applause] [cheers and applause] FEMALE SPEAKER: Funding for this program has been provided by...

The Leichtag Foundation, the San Diego County Board of Supervisors, The Hervey Family Fund at The San Diego Foundation, The Virginia G. Piper Charitable Trust, and by Wells Fargo.

MALE SPEAKER: At Wells Fargo, we support the diverse cultures within the Hispanic community.

We honor the cultural heritage and impactful contributions of Hispanics and US Latinos who have enriched the cultural fabric of our country.

Additional support from these and many other donors...

The Institute for Humanities Research at Arizona State University, Queriamos Norte Foundation, The McGrory Family Fund of the Jewish Community Foundation, and these additional funders.

A complete list is available at APTonline.org.

You can learn more about our film by visiting our website at ChunkyFilm.com