Chicano Movement

By: Anthony Castro

Rudolfo "Corky" Gonzales

Rudolfo “Corky” Gonzales was born in Denver on June 18, 1928 to Federico and Indalesia Gonzales. In 1968 Gonzales led a Chicano contingent in the Poor People's March on Washington, D.C. While there, he issued his "Plan of the Barrio" which called for better housing, education, barrio-owned businesses, and restitution of pueblo lands. He also proposed forming a Congress of Aztlan to achieve these goals.

One of the most important roles played by Gonzales was as an organizer of the Annual Chicano Youth Liberation Conference, an ambitious effort to create greater unity among Chicano youth. These Conferences brought together large numbers of Chicano youth from throughout the United States and provided them with opportunities to express their views on self-determination. The first conference in March 1969 produced a document, “EL PLAN ESPIRITUAL DE AZTLAN (THE SPIRITUAL PLAN OF AZTLAN)”, which developed the concept of ethnic nationalism and self-determination in the struggle for Chicano liberation. The second Chicano Youth Conference in 1970 represented a further refinement in Corky Gonzales's efforts toward Chicano self-determination, the formation of the Colorado Raza Unida Party.


T-Someone who wants to get his voice heard.

P-1. I am juaquin, I live in a society that labels people. I have a family built on pain, suffering and love.

2.My own people, can't get the life that they deserve because of where they came from. My own brothers and sister would die for a better life, most importantly, freedom.

3.Back in my country people die, fight, drink, kill. Everyone trying to escape but only to be put in a category of "No use Hispanics".

4.My people, being turned down for freedom of speech. America where is your constitution, your loving humanity.

5.America, full of fake prosperity, love, and freedom. Only good for slavery, rape, and hate.

6. Why can't we all get along, we are all humans. My parents died for my freedom, they died by the hand of a white man.

7.I am juaquin. My people and I deserve a chance. For America was built on second chances and trust.

C-The author uses words like, hate, freedom, slavery, unforgiving, etc. To show how the character feels about the so "good America"

A- The attitude of the author is giving the character hatred for the AMERICA is.

S- The shift goes from "I HATE" to depressed to trying to forgive.

T- A man fighting, speaking and going all out for his people.

T- Humanity is the same therefore no should be labeled. For if we all get along we can become better than what we are now. Fear for the next generation for they will have to suffer our choices and will end up destroying humanity.

I AM Joaquin

  1. Yo soy Joaquín,
    perdido en un mundo de confusión:
    I am Joaquín, lost in a world of confusion,
    caught up in the whirl of a gringo society,
    confused by the rules, scorned by attitudes,
    suppressed by manipulation, and destroyed by modern society.
    My fathers have lost the economic battle
    and won the struggle of cultural survival.
    And now! I must choose between the paradox of
    victory of the spirit, despite physical hunger,
    or to exist in the grasp of American social neurosis,
    sterilization of the soul and a full stomach.
    Yes, I have come a long way to nowhere,
    unwillingly dragged by that monstrous, technical,
    industrial giant called Progress and Anglo success....
  2. I look at myself.
    I watch my brothers.
    I shed tears of sorrow. I sow seeds of hate.
    I withdraw to the safety within the circle of life --
    I am Cuauhtémoc, proud and noble,
    leader of men, king of an empire civilized
    beyond the dreams of the gachupín Cortés,
    who also is the blood, the image of myself.
    I am the Maya prince.
    I am Nezahualcóyotl, great leader of the Chichimecas.
    I am the sword and flame of Cortes the despot
    And I am the eagle and serpent of the Aztec civilization.
    I owned the land as far as the eye
    could see under the Crown of Spain,
    and I toiled on my Earth and gave my Indian sweat and blood
    for the Spanish master who ruled with tyranny over man and
    beast and all that he could trample
  3. Mexico was free??
    Free from Spanish rule in eighteen-hundred-twenty-one.
    I died with them ... I lived with them .... I lived to see our country free.
    to feel the hot gouge of lead which my hands made.
    all companeros in the act, STOOD AGAINST THAT WALL OF INFAMY
    to wait for independence. Morelos! Matamoros! Guerrero!
    I placed on that fortress wall
    who have come this way,
    His head, which is mine and of all those
    I killed him.
    I drove him from the pulpit to lead a bloody revolution for him and me....
    I sentenced him who was me I excommunicated him, my blood.
    "Que mueran los gachupines y que viva la Virgen de Guadalupe...."
    El Grito de Dolores
    rang the bell of independence and gave out that lasting cry--
    Hidalgo who in the year eighteen hundred and ten
    I was part in blood and spirit of that courageous village priest
    for their own worth as human beings, for that
    And from these words grew men who prayed and fought
    were all God's children.
    but gave a lasting truth that Spaniard Indian Mestizo
    the priests, both good and bad, took--
    to take and use my virgin strength and trusting faith,
    As the Christian church took its place in God's name,
    I was both tyrant and slave.
  4. superior over all.
    I am the mountian Indian,
    coarse and brutal,
    I am the Rurales,
    against myself.
    I ride with revolutionists
    Mexico must be free. . . ."
    Father, I give it back to you.
    "This land is ours . . .
    for all who dare live free!
    a creed that formed a constitution
    All of which is our reward,
    Our life or yours is the only trade for soft brown earth and maize.
    belong to Zapatistas.
    The villages, the mountains, the streams
    "This land, this earth is OURS."
    I am Emiliano Zapata.
    nourished and inspired by the passion and the fire of all his earthy people.
    crude and warm, a tornado at full strength,
    I rode with Pancho Villa,
    I am Joaquin.
    of his country's land to kings or monarchs or presidents of foriegn powers.
    And this giant little Zapotec gave not one palm's breadth
    the most desolate and remote ground which was his country.
    He held his Mexico in his hand on
    as Moses did his sacraments.
    I was he on dusty roads on barren land as he protected his archives
    I fought and died for Don Benito Juarez, guardian of the Constitution.
    and waited silently for life to begin again.
    I worked, I sweated, I bled, I prayed,
    and ruled, and taught, with gun and flame and mystic power.
    The crown was gone but all its parasites remained,
  5. Or mutilated sorrow.
    And lights of fame
    To the glamour of the ring
    As I fight my way from stinking barrios
    Cut my face and eyes,
    I bleed as the vicious gloves of hunger
    Now I bleed in some smelly cell from club or gun or tyranny.
    to strangers . . . in their land.
    their country's flag
    with indignity
    could not surrender
    whose pride and courage
    with Los Niños,
    my burial shroud–
    my country's flag
    into the sea of fame–
    I jumped from the tower of Chapultepec
    slave and master and revolution.
    campesino, hacendado,
    Blood has flowed from me on every battlefield between
    Standing against the walls of retribution.
    When revolution made them pay,
    Who would lose their blood so pure
    From the whips of masters
    Was stripped crimson
    My back of Indian slavery
    I stained a bloody red.
    The altars of Moctezuma
    Who bleeds in many ways.
    I am Joaquín,
    In society's own name.
    Token leadership
    For my own when society gives me.
  6. Of their own.
    As feats of valor
    And plagiarized our deeds
    Changed our language
    For those hordes of gold-starved strangers,
    To pave the way with brains and blood
    All their skills and ingenuity
    Who gave a foreign people
    And bloody revolutionists,
    And kings
    For sons of chiefs
    This society has
    These then are the rewards
    And fill the jails with crime.
    I lengthen the line at the welfare door
    My culture has been raped.
    And stolen,
    My land is lost
    And is but another threacherous promise.
    The Treaty of Hidalgo has been broken
    Equality is but a word–
    My hands calloused from the hoe. I have made the Anglo rich,
    My knees are caked with mud.
    Wealthy in spirit and faith.
    Rich in courage
    Bold with machismo,
    Arrogant with pride,
    Poor in money,
    Here I stand,
    To be sentenced to despair.
    For all the glory of my Raza
    Before the court of justice,
    Here I stand
    And now Vietnam.
    The foreign land of Korea
    On the corpse-strewn beach of Normandy,
    Hills of the Alaskan isles,
    My blood runs pure on the ice-caked

    I am Aztec prince and Christian Christ.
    My blood is pure.
    My faith unbreakable,
    But my spirit is strong,
    The odds are great
    I am Joaquín.
    I refuse to be absorbed.
    I am the masses of my people and
    Sing the same.
    I cry
    I feel the same
    I look the same
    Or whatever I call myself,
    La raza!
    we start to MOVE.
    smoke-smeared cities,
    the mountain villages,
    the barren plains,
    And in all the fertile farmlands,
    Better life.
    Soft brown eyes of expectation for a
    The smell of chile verde and
    Fiery tequila explosions
    Mariachi strains
    Clamoring voices
    Tramping feet
    To the sound of
    Rears its head
    Like a sleeping giant it slowly
    The music of the people stirs the
    And now the trumpet sounds,
    In the fierce heat of racial hatred.

In Conclusion

My Author represents the literary movement because he knows how to connect with his character. He gives his character the actually voice that he feel about a certain topic. He doesn't sugar coat the topic.


"" Latinopiacom. Web. 07 Jan. 2016. <>.