Progressive activist Bernard Hyland on how Occupy Los Angeles can effect political change: "If you're going to get what you want from elected officials, you have to make them need you." Paul Laverack / El Nuevo Sol.

Bernard Hyland, a software analyst and progressive activist from the Los Angeles area, attends Occupy LA on November 19, 2011 – eleven days before police forcibly expel protestors from their encampment on the City Hall lawn, arresting 290 people in the process.

Hyland shares his thoughts on how the Occupy movement could leverage its power with elected officials to reform the existing system, even as it seeks to make deeper, more revolutionary changes to the economic and political order.

Occupy LA cameraman Jason describes filming one of the movement's protests in front of a downtown bank: "I was switching out memory cards as fast as I can. I didn't want to get tackled and have the police steal my camera." Paul Laverack / El Nuevo Sol.

Jason, a cameraman on the Occupy LA media team, discusses the excitement and the obstacles he encountered while documenting the social movement against corporate greed, as he and hundreds of others camped on the lawn at Los Angeles City Hall for two months in the autumn of 2011.

Eleven days after this interview was filmed, 1400 police officers forcibly evicted the protestors from their encampment in the early morning hours of November 30, 2011, arresting 290 people in the process.

Occupy LA protestor Lucas, interviewed eleven days before police forcibly cleared City Hall lawn, said of the encampment, "Anyone who has a dream of creating a better world is seeing things happen here." Paul Laverack / El Nuevo Sol.

The Occupy movement has persisted, despite the forcible eviction of Occupy LA from the City Hall lawn by 1400 police officers, in the early morning hours of November 30, 2011, as police sliced through tents and arrested 290 protestors.

Following a similar wave of Occupy evictions nationwide, protestors against greed and the corporate capture of government have turned their focus to other actions, such as foreclosure prevention and participation in the Iowa caucuses. In Los Angeles, Occupy protestors are expected to appear at the Tournament of Roses parade on New Year’s Day, 2012.

As the Los Angeles branch of the movement goes forward, pushed out of its nest by police batons, a look back at the encampment itself – the ad hoc community which protestors created among themselves – may yet be of interest.

Below are two different versions of the same video tour taken on November 19, 2011, eleven days before the eviction.

The first video is a three-minute version of the tour given by Lucas – a mediator for the nightly General Assembly and self-described “green hustler for the grounds.” It provides a brief sense of the encampment, showcasing its surprising population density and architectural invention, while introducing several of the smaller factions, or “tribes,” into which people divided themselves.

Seen or discussed here are Music Tribe, Bike Scum, Camp Apathy, and the Love Tribe. These groups represented only a small fraction of the overall encampment, which stretched across both the north and (much larger) south lawns at City Hall. Good humor and cooperation are prominent features observed at Occupy LA, while mistrust and paranoia also made appearances.

For more texture, nuance, and surprise, the extended version of the same tour (featured below, and running just under nine minutes) provides the protestors additional space to speak for themselves. In addition, tour guide Lucas explains in more detail the layout and workings of the camp. Discussion among interviewees ranges across politics, mysticism, and even drug-fueled delusion.

Within the tribes there are numerous visible examples of creativity, cooperation, and ingenuity. In one instance, an area resident is seen repairing his bicycle. He is not a protestor, and asserts that Occupy Los Angeles has helped him to repair his bike, offering him free parts and tools on numerous occasions.

However, the extended video also explores more of the tensions underlying the Occupy LA experience. While communal living appeared to suit many participants, there are reports of theft, greed, and distrust of fellow protestors, as cliques hardened within the encampment. In an ironic twist, Lucas and a member of the Love Tribe explain how resources at the camp were not equitably distributed among participants; this is the very critique lodged by Occupy LA against the US economic system.

In another exchange, Lucas and a Bike Scum tribesman describe how – in response to a rash of thefts – the free sharing of communal bicycles had gradually given way to private property under constant watch. It appears that even anti-greed protestors consciously striving for a world of greater justice and fairness must still grapple with the darker facets of human nature within us all.

Longtime political activist Kess Kessler, visiting Occupy LA in October, calls Occupy Los Angeles "the most significant American political movement in decades." Paul Laverack / El Nuevo Sol.

Kess Kessler of Woodland Hills is a longtime Democratic Party activist. Kessler currently chairs the California Democratic Party’s Senior Caucus, he sits on the CDP Executive Board as well as the Executive Board for the Democratic Party of the San Fernando Valley, and is Treasurer of the Valley Grassroots for Democracy club.

My wife Agi and I drove past the LA City Hall a couple weeks ago, not long after the Occupy LA protestors were evicted by police. The former home of Occupy Los Angeles had been cordoned off by chain link fence, with signs indicating no one was allowed in. This didn’t seem too out-of-line, once I thought about it. The city wanted to repair the lawn, etc. Then I saw several police cars parked there, obviously to prevent protestors retaking the site.

I was overwhelmed by the feeling that a great friendly meeting place was gone. It struck me that part of the Occupy feeling reminded me of being at the Renaissance Pleasure Faire of old, in Calabasas – with fun good times and people celebrating life, if only for a day. Then I instantly contrasted this to what was directly in front of us – the massive downtown structures, cement buildings, sterile, wide unfriendly streets almost devoid of life, with hardly a person in sight.

I began to think about the discussions, the speeches, the conversations, the democracy and general assemblies of Occupy LA. I was saddened by the thought that our physical society is all about assets, property, money, shopping. The minds of most citizens follow the same media-directed thoughts. How can we not?

Our neighborhoods, our malls, our buildings, our everything – it all ignores the democratic institutions which are the basis for our way of life.

I couldn’t name any other place, besides Occupy Los Angeles on the City Hall lawn, where citizens could routinely get together to discuss their thoughts about anything, let alone the real problems of our society. I’ve been active in the Democratic Party for many years, and even I can’t say that the Democratic organizations in which I have proudly served – like the California Democratic Party and Los Angeles County Democratic Party – have had the effect I’ve wanted, after all this time.

Consider the simple change in our city organization, from business on Main St USA to the pseudo-main-street Westfield Malls, and the result – it is almost impossible for political discussion or protest to occur inside a shopping mall’s “private property.” Valley Grassroots for Democracy, a club for which I serve as an officer, has tried to engage in democratic conversation at shopping malls, and come under increasingly onerous rules.

Many malls have almost no use of their tiny, designated “public spaces.” If any exchange of money is involved – like asking a few dollars for a political pin we designed – activists are warned, then banned. (VGFD was thrown out of Fashion square for six months!) Voter Registration must be non-partisan. No candidate signs or literature, no crowds, no active recruiting, etc. Even Girl Scouts collecting donations for cookies are a threat that must be prevented!

Occupy anywhere was a breath of fresh air. People were learning, discussing and protesting about things which involve us all. Citizens have to find new ways to re-commit ourselves to issues the Occupy Wall Street movement still seeks to change, even if they no longer have parks to use as rallying points.

We are the 99% and we do need to re-establish that citizens should be in control of our government – not the 1%, not the lobbyists, not only people or corporations with money to buy what they want at the expense of the rest of us.

As a Democrat, I have worked again and again for candidates who seemed to believe as I do, yet this process has accomplished very little.

The loss of Occupy Los Angeles has left me inconsolable.

Joselyn after obtaining her master's in mass communications from CSUN / Photo: Joselyn Arroyo

By VIRGINIA ISAAD
EL NUEVO SOL

She has vague memories of the day her parents packed up and brought her and her sister to the U.S. One of them is her arriving at an “airport” though in reality she’d arrived to Sun Valley after crossing the border illegally at the age of three.

Growing up, Joselyn Arroyo, 29, would accompany her mother, a janitor at the time, to the KNBC studios in Burbank. She remembers watching the broadcasters and deciding then that it was what she wanted to do when she grew up, oblivious to the hardships she’d face living in the U.S as an undocumented resident.

Born Joselyn Ontiveros in San Luis Potosi, Mexico on April 26, 1982, she stands at about 5 feet 5 inches with medium length black hair, tan skin and an athletic build and has always considered herself a citizen of the U.S. despite her illegal status.

“I knew I was from Mexico but I didn’t know the logistics of not being and being a citizen,” says Joselyn.

About 40% of the nation’s undocumented students reside in California, which comes out to roughly 20,000 people.

Joselyn’s life resembled that of any other kid her age; she was oblivious to politics, money and other grown-up complications until she was halfway through high school.

She attended Kennedy High School in Granada Hills where she was editor of the school newspaper and the captain of track/ cross-country as well as being in the honor society.

“For me, I felt like I was letting [anyone] down when I’d tell them I was undocumented. Like they would think I was a bad person,” says Joselyn. “There was a lot of stigma. But I also didn’t want pity.”

There weren’t any clubs or organizations for undocumented students for Joselyn so she kept her status a secret from most except those closest to her, including high school sweetheart, Tim Arroyo whom she met when she was in 10^th grade and he was a senior.

“ I never had to deal with that growing up,” he recalls. “Some people are ignorant to the situation.”

She remembers one instance where the sting of her undocumented status overruled her accomplishments.

“My high school selected three people out of the whole school to take a class at CSUN for college credit and I was one of those three people,” remembers Joselyn. “When they saw my application they said everything looked great but they needed a Social Security number and I told them I didn’t have one. They told me they had to choose someone else. It was sad because it was another door closing.”

Most seniors in high school enjoy the luxury of being able to drive and planning out what college to attend and what to study however, due to her status, Joselyn began to feel like the American dream would remain a pipe dream.

“That’s when people get their driver’s license, start applying for jobs and college,” says Joselyn. “I realized all the paperwork required a Social Security Number so I went home and asked my mom what my SSN was and [she told me] I didn’t have one.”

“I fell into a little bit of a depression,” recalls Joselyn. “I had nothing. My depression lasted six months but I realized being depressed wasn’t going to get me my papers.”

Running track became a source of solace for Joselyn, who had always been active and enjoyed the exhilaration of running toward the finish line knowing her status wouldn’t affect her achievements on the field.

“I felt protected being in a sports team because I didn’t identify as being undocumented but as being a runner,” she says. “Running was very much an escape for me.”

She was able to parlay her passion for running and academic excellence into private scholarships, which she used to attend College of the Canyons in Santa Clarita.

“I had to pay the non-resident fee which at the time was $133 instead of just $11 per unit,” says Joselyn.

In 2001, AB 540 legislation passed allowing undocumented students who had attended a California high school for three years or more to pay the resident fee, thereby decreasing their tuition costs.

“AB 540 passed and everyone looked at me like they didn’t know what I was talking about so a lot of it was about having to educate myself,” says Joselyn. “It coincided perfectly because it was right when I transferred to CSUN.”

While at California State University, Northridge (CSUN), she pursued a degree in journalism with a concentration in broadcast while continuing to run track and interning at KNBC.

Her days would start at 5:30 a.m. for track practice. She would attend class until the afternoon after which her boyfriend picked her up and then dropped her off in Sun Valley where she would do homework until the evening when her mother would take her to the KNBC studio. She worked till midnight and then she’d be picked up again.

During her senior year, she worked with Lincoln Harrison, media production specialist at CSUN, for “Valley View” and “Noticias del Valle.”

“She would watch me [during production], write notes and two days later she’d teach me how to do it,” he recalls with a smile. “ She slowly took over direction for the Spanish show.”

Her hard work paid off when she received recognition from her school for her accomplishments. She knew, however, that academic excellence would not be enough to get her a job while she remained undocumented.

“I got the Outstanding Graduating Senior award and the professor made a speech about who was going to be lucky enough to hire me and I knew that nobody could hire me,” she said. “It was bittersweet.”

She graduated in 2004 and the following January she and Tim married.

Tim and Joselyn on their wedding day/ Photo: Joselyn Arroyo

“People told me I could get married and get my papers but it doesn’t work like that. I thought I’d have to go back to Mexico for a year or two and I hadn’t been there since I was three,” she says.  “I was going to wait to see if something happened here.”

The DREAM Act legislation, which would give legal residency to AB 540 students, wasn’t yet enacted so in Fall 2005 she returned to CSUN for a master’s in mass communications.

“I was prepared to continue going to school because I didn’t want to go back to Mexico. I didn’t want to leave my husband or my family. I applied for grad school thinking I’d be more valuable to this country with an M.A. I thought having a master’s would give me more of a case to stay here,” states Joselyn. “Everything that is important is here in the U.S. for me.”

She and Tim moved to an apartment two blocks from CSUN so she could walk to school and she began catering where she was paid in cash while she continued to apply for private scholarships.

“I used to walk to Vons and I’d have to carry the groceries home,” remembers Joselyn. “I couldn’t wait to get a driver’s license so I could get a car and put my groceries in the trunk. Work was tough because sometimes I’d cater parties and my friends were there and they knew I was going for my master’s and yet I had to stand there asking if they wanted tri tip or chicken.”

She also worked as an interpreter for an immigration lawyer, aiding others like her obtain residency.

“It was ironic because I didn’t have my papers at the time,” she says. “I was helping others get their residency and I didn’t have my residency. I was a little jealous; I wanted to be the one getting the papers.”

Joselyn, who has two younger siblings who were legal, felt her life fraught with irony especially when she still didn’t have her papers and had to ask her younger siblings for rides.

“I always wondered how if they got their driver’s license before I got my papers, that would suck; Sure enough, that’s what happened,” she says with a laugh. “I was getting my master’s degree and they were giving me rides. Maybe I got good grades because I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t go to bars with friends because I didn’t have a license.”

During her last semester, she co-founded HEARD, which evolved into Dreams to be Heard (DTBH), a club for undocumented students, where she finally became acquainted with others like her.

“We started going to workshops that other universities had and there was one in Dominguez Hills where lawyers were giving free advice and I asked if being a graduate student would help me gain my residency,” recalls Joselyn. “The lawyer asked me basic questions about whether my family had petitioned me and I’d never really talked about it with my family. I knew my aunt had petitioned my dad and at the time my dad put me under the petition because I was under 21 years old. That, combined with my marriage, allowed me to apply for residency. If I didn’t have that, getting married wouldn’t have been enough- I would still have had to go to Mexico.”

Immediately following this revelation she contacted a lawyer and explained the situation. She was told she could gain legal residency in about six months.

She knew the day that she met with the immigration official she was treading tenuous grounds as the decision depended on their “mood” as she’d heard.

She brought with her photo albums chronicling her relationship with Tim and was met with cynicism.

“She told me they could be fake,” says Joselyn. “ How could I fake a relationship of ten years?”

But the tide turned when she mentioned she was in the mass communications graduate program at CSUN.

“All of a sudden she was like my best friend. It turns out her brother also went to CSUN to study journalism,” says Joselyn. “ Suddenly she was really nice and saying my husband was lucky to have me. It was an emotional roller- coaster.”

Joselyn went on to describe the difficulties she’d endured during the past 22 years and in one fell swoop her life changed.

“She had no idea what AB 540 was and I was explaining to her, an immigration official,” remembers Joselyn. “She stamped my papers and told me I would never have to go through that trouble again because I was a resident now,” says Joselyn.

What followed was a three-year period when she received her green card and a Social Security number and finally, a license.

“I was proud to show it and finally I had an I.D. from the U.S. with my name,” she says. “I was living in the shadow for 22 years and all of a sudden you’re allowed to come out and it’s OK.”

Putting her personal struggles out in the open allowed and inspired her to do her thesis on the plight of undocumented students.

“It was so timely. I did a radio documentary on undocumented students. There are stereotypes of undocumented as being out on the streets selling oranges or that they are corrupted,” she says. “I wanted to show people in college doing what everyone else does.”

In 2008 she graduated with her master’s and yet again she received the Outstanding Graduate Student award, only this time there was nothing holding her back.

“I got the award for outstanding graduate student and it was different because when I got one for my B.A. there were a lot of walls and here I actually felt very happy cause I saw the doors open wide because I had my papers,” she said.

After graduating she was offered a part-time position at CSUN as a media specialist but opted to continue producing.

“I wanted to teach but I wanted more experience under my belt,” she said. “I’ve been doing that since 2008.”

The year 2010 was a big one by all accounts. She and Tim bought their first home in January and later that month they welcomed a son. In April, she became a U.S. citizen.

Joselyn on the day she became a citizen/ Photo: Joselyn Arroyo

“It’s so comforting knowing I have that security to take care of my son and help my husband,” says Joselyn. “I guess it wasn’t my time when I graduated with my B.A. because I had to get my master’s.”

Joselyn takes prides in the struggles that have shaped her into who she is and, in retrospect, realizes that the journey has made her appreciate all that she has now.

“I’m glad I came, my parents did a courageous thing to give us a better life and I’m glad they did,” explains Joselyn. “ I dealt with the consequences but I think it made me stronger and I definitely appreciate everything much more now.”

“It was a great joy to see her lift that burden off her shoulders,” says Tim.

Harrison mentions how his wife, KNBC producer Reva Hicks, recalls seeing a little girl at the studio years ago.

“My wife has a vague recollection of seeing a little girl with the cleaning staff,” says Harrison. “There was an early connection with her and I didn’t realize it till she worked here.”

KNBC Executive Producer Wendy Harris became friends with Joselyn’s mother while they both worked the night shift and recalls how some 15 years later Joselyn interned at KNBC.

“She was perfect for the job, extremely hardworking,” remembers Harris. “I’m so happy to see her be successful. She is a the great American success story.”

Joselyn, who always admired Wendy’s ability to balance work and a personal life, found that she now had what she’d always dreamed of as the little girl visiting the studio years before.

“All the doors opened right when they were suppose to for me but the journey was tough,” says Joselyn.

Joselyn with her baby boy/ Photo: Joselyn Arroyo

 Click here to listen to Joselyn’s radio documentary, Building Bridges/ Construyendo Puentes

Click here to watch the Telemundo special on Joselyn

Occupy LA protestor Morris Griffin calls for investment in "manufacturing, green energy, and livable wage jobs." Paul Laverack / El Nuevo Sol.

Morris Griffin, a protestor at Occupy Los Angeles interviewed on Day 50 of the occupation – November 19, 2011 – demonstrated the creative nature of solutions to social problems which have emerged from the Occupy Wall Street movement.

Griffin laid out the basics of his plan to allocate state lottery money – which he claimed is presently being misdirected – into a massive public & private employment project, which would provide living-wage jobs to thousands of California citizens.

Everywhere one looked in the Occupy Los Angeles encampment, there were people with interesting, innovative ideas for alleviating the economic crisis. Whether or not they would stand ultimate scrutiny by a panel of experts was, considering the short duration of the encampment, less important than the simple fact that the discussion – among citizens rather than elites or technocrats – was engaged in earnest. An environment like Occupy LA was fertile ground for a thousand such ideas to sprout.

While Los Angeles police mowed through the City Hall lawn in the early hours of November 30, expelling all the protestors and arresting 290 of them, it remains to be seen where or when the Occupy Wall Street movement will spring up anew.

Journalist and author Charles Bowden on reordering our national priorities: "We can't have social peace without sharing the social wealth." Paul Laverack / El Nuevo Sol.

Charles Bowden, award-winning journalist and author of Murder City: Ciudad Juárez and the Global Economy’s New Killing Fields, visits California State University Northridge on November 10, 2011 along with co-author Molly Molloy, to discuss their new book about the devastation wrought by the ongoing drug war in Mexico. Bowden shares his views on a variety of pressing social and political issues, as shown in a series of video excerpts from his talk.

In the first video, Bowden describes what he thinks is required to end the War on Drugs, and its many perverse consequences.

Below, Charles Bowden speaks about the crumbling of California’s education system, and the shift in priorities required to begin rebuilding before it’s too late.

In the following video, Bowden fields questions about his writing style, his creative process, and what he hopes his book might accomplish.

In the video below, Charles Bowden tells why he dedicated his book to Armando Rodriguez, a Mexican journalist he never met, who was killed by drug cartels in Juárez, Mexico.

Bowden irises out from there to discuss the role of the journalist in society, the challenge of reporting from a city as violent as Juárez, and his contempt for the mainstream US press.

He also uses examples from his career to describe how to maintain integrity when working within the corporate system. For him the job isn’t about picking sides; it’s about bearing witness to epic struggles.

In the final video excerpt, Charles Bowden offers his analysis of the intersection of numerous social factors – rising corporate power, the importance of government as a check against it, the decline of labor unions, the impacts of illegal immigration, the catalyzing effect of Occupy Wall Street, and the media’s abdication of its responsibility to the people.

“There are no labor reporters anymore,” he says of the press. “Everybody works, but nobody covers it. Did you ever ask yourself about that?”

Architect Kara Hill details her role as lead designer of the Valley Performing Arts Center at California State University Northridge; Paul Laverack / El Nuevo Sol.

Kara Hill, the architect and lead project designer for the Valley Performing Arts Center (VPAC), shares insights into the history of large performance spaces; she also details many of the personal and group decisions that influenced the construction of the VPAC, which opened in 2011 on the campus of California State University Northridge.

Ms. Hill appears on Friday, November 17, 2011 in the Kurland Lecture Hall (which she designed) as the inaugural speaker in CSUN’s Commerce of Creativity Distinguished Speakers Series sponsored by the Mike Curb College of Arts, Media, and Communication.

Following her lecture, Ms. Hill takes questions from the audience, and she is joined by Robert Bucker, Dean of the Mike Curb College, who was present throughout the development of the new performance hall.

By YOSELIN MONTES-CASTILLO

EL NUEVO SOL

Avenue 50 Studio owner, Kathy Gallegos, sits at her desk surrounded by Latino and Chicano art, planning the next art exhibit.

Every month, Gallegos coordinates events and invites some of the most talented Latino and Chicano/a artists of Los Angles, to display their work in order to educate attendees. Artists like Yreina Cervantez, Judy Vacca, Joe Bravo, and Heriberto Luna–along with many others–contribute to the education of art in the Los Angeles community.

More than a gallery, Avenue 50 Studio is a nonprofit arts organization with the purpose of inspiring intercultural understanding.

“We need the (Chicano/a) art to help us understand who we are,” said Gallegos.

According to Gallegos, before the Chicano/a movement spread, the art medium was rarely seen in Los Angeles.

“There was no other Latino galleries in the city… and the Westside wouldn’t show Latino artists, so I opened the door and I filled a need,” Gallegos said.

Since 2010, Avenue 50 Studio has advocated to teach about Chicano/a art, history, the community and self identity.

Lizbeth often studies in the library from 8 a.m. till 9 p.m. in between classes.

By VIRGINIA ISAAD
EL NUEVO SOL

All of the students’ names have been changed to protect their identity.

Lizbeth, 23, had gone her entire life without questioning her status in the U.S. until applying for college when she was asked to provide a Social Security number she didn’t have.

Suddenly the future she had once envisioned for herself was completely out of reach and she had to reconcile her aspirations with the limited options of an undocumented student.

Now in her last year at California State University, Northridge, Lizbeth finally decided to stick with journalism with a minor in marketing, after having a run with three other options.

“I would like to start my own (public relations) business or work at a non-profit to gain experience,” she says.

She initially chose biology. But when discussing her status with a university counselor he advised her against it, due to the hardships she would face trying to find a job.

She, like so many other AB 540 students, has had to adjust to their life according to the limited opportunities of undocumented immigrants.

AB 540 legislation allows students who have attended high school in California and intend to apply for legal status to pay in-state tuition.

“The mere fact of going to college is a privilege,” says Lizbeth.

As a school under the AB540 state law, CSUN offers respite and resources through the Dreams to be Heard (DTBH) student club as well as faculty and counselors.

Jose Luis Vargas, Educational Opportunity Program (EOP) Director, is an AB540 advocate and adviser for DTBH. He has met with graduates who work in fields not related to their university degree.

“Students come to me saying ‘I have a degree in psychology and I’m washing cars’,” says Vargas. “Even if they wanted to gravitate toward certain degrees, there is nothing out there for them.”

There are no restrictions for AB540 students in regards to choosing a major but limitations exist once they graduate, as certain fields put greater emphasis on providing citizenship paperwork.

“Students tend to gravitate toward kinesiology, communication studies, art, graphic design,” says Vargas. “These are good majors because they are sub-contracted by larger corporations and they don’t have the same level of restrictions.

“Health and human development, engineering, computer science, science and mathematics anything that leads to a potential graduate or professional degree in medicine or research all those are difficult majors,” Vargas goes on to explain. “Graduate schools and those careers are subsidized by the federal government. All those fields that have a connection with the federal government have a citizenship requirement.”

Maria, 20, started out in graphics design and then nutrition and dietetics but found no interest in either subject.

She started attending DTBH meetings on campus during Fall 2010 and was inspired to change her major to political science with a minor in Chicano Studies.

“I felt like I had a group I could relate to, like they understood me,” she says. “I noticed how politically we could learn as AB 540 students. My passion is helping others so I would like to be an immigration lawyer.”

She is aware that for the time being she will not be able to pursue a practice in law but she remains dedicated to her academic pursuits.

“I’m taking it day by day and learning,” she says. “There’s hope for licensing as a lawyer, until then I’ll keep pursuing higher education.”

Vargas agrees that fields like political science can lead self-sustaining careers for undocumented students.

“The political science major can work in a small law office doing research,” says Vargas. “If students can demonstrate that they have the ability, the skill and the knowledge to perform the job responsibilities, (small corporations) look at that first and foremost.”

Miguel, 22, is a Spanish-language major who admits, “it was never ‘I want to make money out of this’” regarding his major.

After graduating, he plans to continue working at the restaurant where he is currently employed  in the hopes of moving up as manager.

“I did want to be a teacher, but I can’t get credentials,” he says.

He volunteers at his former high school by giving presentations on the plight of being undocumented and options available to them.

A soccer aficionado who “could kick a ball” before he could walk,  Miguel would like to go into sports writing and mentions Mexican sports commentator, Jose Ramon Fernandez as one of his idols.

He mentions how he could return to Mexico and learn about sports commenting but he admits Mexico is not home to him in the way the United States has become.

“­­­­­Being undocumented is an impediment. If I went to Mexico, I’d have to stay,” says Miguel. “It would be like going to a foreign country to me. I wouldn’t want to make it my home; this is home to me.”

Vargas has a three-step plan he believes guides students in the direction best suited to their needs and desires.

“Always look at legal options,” Vargas emphasizes as the first major step. “I encourage them to research… see if there’s anything we can do to at least begin the process of legalization. Always explore what options are available to you.”

With the use of the controversial use of E-Verify, a site that can check a potential employees’ legal status, Vargas admits it’s “become even more restrictive.”

His second suggestion is for students to consider how committed they are to remain in the U.S. as they can return to their home country and utilize their degree in a way they couldn’t in the U.S.

Vargas laments how some of the “best performing students” are kept from contributing due to their status but upholds the importance of ultimately choosing what will give them the most satisfaction.

“No one can take away your education, it will last you a lifetime,” Vargas says. “Go for not only what you’re good at but what you get a kick out of doing.”

The recent passage of AB 131, which will allow undocumented students to receive Cal Grant money that is left over in 2012, is a boon for future students. Yet there have been no advancements for the undocumented in the workforce.

“ They make significant contributions to the  economy, society and the workforce,” says Vargas. “They give more than they are taking.”

Miguel recalls a song from Latin artists Los Tigres del Norte (The Tigers of the North) titled La Jaula de Oro (The Golden Cage) that particularly spoke to him.

He explains, “(The song) talks about the undocumented caged in a cell despite success, it’s how my dad feels. It represented our family.”

The lyrics include: “Aqui estoy establecido/ en los Estados Unidos/ diez años pasaron ya/en que cruce de mojado/ papeles no he arreglado, sigo siendo un illegal/ De que me sirve el dinero/ si estoy como prisionero/ dentro desta gran nacion/ cuando me acuerdo hasta lloro/ aunque la jaula sea de oro/ no deja de ser prision.”

To hear more from Jose Luis Vargas, click on the audio:

For more info on undocumented students visit:

http://cadreamnetwork.org/

Scholarships

DTBH meet Thursdays from 11am-12:30pm in the Chican@ house, contact the club for more info.