Day 1 (Part Two): Bakersfield High leads massive student protest into downtown Bakersfield - By N.L. Belardes
(images coming soon!)
On Wednesday at the Rabobank Ed Jagels stood giving an interview with channel 17 (I didn’t hear the interview but you can read Bako Carpetbagger’s views on the interview and his post on the protests). I snapped some photos of the Jagels’ interview then went and saw the massive contingent of protesters heading down Truxton Avenue toward the Rabobank. The students walked briskly and stalled at a corner red light while students around me held up signs toward the large mass of students across the street. I could hear police sternly telling students to stay on the sidewalk. Over on California Avenue I had taken a few photos of students in the street as the police yelled for them to get back on the sidewalk. I recognized one police officer as Deron Miller. I haven't talked to him in some time, but I knew him for years. We played a lot of basketball and hockey together...
Outside the Rabobank the student masses literally poured into the area around me and around the fountain. I took a few photos and saw excited reactions from students as they observed me with the camera. I noticed a high energy from students who cheered at the media, whether me with a camera, or toward other media folks. Students were definitely motivated by attention, creating media awareness, and the excitement and energy all around. I then walked over to where Ed Jagels stood giving the interview and began taking photos.
It was just moments later that students moved into the area where Ed Jagels was giving an interview. One young Latino seemed to bump Jagels as he swung a large Mexican flag right in view of the camera; which was right behind Jagels. And then a few pairs of students with flags moved into the area, which may have brought an end to the interview, because Jagels looked around, seemingly overwhelmed and the interview soon ended. He grimaced and then shook the reporter’s hand while at least two Mexico flags were swung nearby as students carrying them danced around his immediate vicinity.
After the news crew peeled away there was a strange moment as I watched Jagels in a judgmental pose with his arms held behind his back, and then crossed in front of him as he observed kids in a near chaotic situation: running, chanting, and some actually jumping into the fountain. He turned away during those moments as if disgusted, and then as if in his own quiet way, turned back around and stared as if taunting the very energy of the morning to dare get more chaotic.
Jagels then spoke with a few men, one in a light blue shirt and dark grey slacks. He walked to a probation department car, spoke a few words, and then talked to a few more folks. He walked back onto the sidewalk and looked into the crowd in the direction of one young girl who had run into the fountain. The same girl and another soon followed. Just then Jagels cupped his face with his hand. A smirk nearly hid beneath his shadowy grasp, but still peeked through enough to be captured in a photo moment.
I did an interview with some students after that. They seemed to have an idea that they were taking a stand for immigration while not knowing all the facts. But then, this was an awareness raising day. Days later many of the participating students hopefully will learn a lot about immigration and the HR4437 amnesty bill they were protesting. Later at the bell on Truxton Avenue a speaker informed many of the protestors why such a march was so important.
After my interview with Buck Owens’ drummer, Buckaroo Dave Wulfekuehler at Jags Coffeehouse across the street from the Rabobank, I walked west to see many protesters were still congregating up and down Truxton Avenue. Many of them had poured onto Truxton Avenue. An hour had gone by, and I was shocked to see so many students and police. I heard police had taken up positions on surrounding buildings. One witness said that police on the buildings didn’t seem overly concerned and were observed laughing and talking (Laughing doesn't mean they weren't doing their jobs. In the unity podcast you will hear some thanks for the BPD keeping control of the walkout).
I called Matt Munoz at that time to come down to the protest. He literally ran down the street from where he lives downtown to see what was going on. I headed to the downtown bell to find the War Day’s Director and many others, including one protester who stood holding the American flag upside-down. I did another interview, made some comments, and then left the protest to go eat lunch and do a few tasks at my regular downtown job. I eventually headed to CSU Bakersfield with Bakotopia friend, Matt Munoz in Chanclas' truck to where many protesters had driven over and even walked. Another reporter, Gabriel Martinez from Mas Magazine followed in another car. I sat in the back spare seat and we drove up Stockdale Highway toward the university and made small talk along the way. Except for Matt who snacked on an energy bar that Chanclas gave him from a blue bag.
We parked in a lot on the northeast side of campus, got out and saw many tired faces as students were leaving the protest on long walks back to their schools. Many students had already walked for miles and their trek wasn’t over—you could see it in their faces—and others in their slow gate as they made their way to Stockdale Highway.
Near the Student Union building Matt talked to the grandson of Dolores Huerta for a few moments. I saw CSUB professor, Dr. Santos talking to a few students and then we eventually made our way into the Student Union building where historic UFW photos had been placed on easels. There was going to be a Teatro Campesino performance that night, written by a student from North Carolina. We finally made our way to get some beer, and where we could do a unity podcast discussing the day’s events.
The unity podcast itself was one-of-a-kind. Matt and I swung microphones around as each of us spoke, and we all joked and talked for some time until I accidentally lost a huge portion of my podcast. I thought the power had gone out in my recorder. We found an outlet where inside hung a very fat and nasty black widow. Those who know me understand my deathly fear of them: the 1999 Halloween death bite at a hockey game. Chanclas poked the spider out of its hiding place with a pen and all was well.
I wrote a few spider poems when in the hospital while on Morphine and Phenobarbitol and feeling trapped. Here are a few I wrote just as I left the hospital and headed into the Tehachapis, wondering about poison and life:
1.
I began reading Cain’s Book again…
Trocchi, lying on his bunk, “under the influence of heroin, inviolable.”
The golden mountains we ascend towards the desert, inviolable;
Under patches of light and low lying rainclouds from a Pacific storm.
Having bedraggled over the coastal range, in their beauty, leaving the system.
On Phenobarb and Valium, head spinning.
Perhaps the black widow toxin is inviolable, creeping still,
Along the scows in my veins.
2.
I’m out of the hospital.
Me and my morphine, leaving the system.
We head under a bulging grey cloud to the mountains.
Shadows move over golden burnt foxtails.
Darkness over the freeway.
Cars like venom. Did I almost really die?
I asked to.
Thrashing on the gurney.
Toxin exploding in mad blood moments.
A boxer on the side of the road.
Autumn says, “He’s going to get killed.”
And then gone…
we pass vineyards where rattlesnake hunters sneak for dens
…and citrus groves, where sunlight and the grey cloud hover.
And up towards the desert, where poison lurks.
I couldn't help but to think about such poems while Chanclas poked at that spider. I wondered about the toxic moments of a student protest, and if efforts would be poisonous in the end or an anti-venom for such a cause. Who knows? Time will reveal what will happen for all immigrants. The issue is hot and nearly toxic in debates.
Rain sprinkled on us as we sat outside. Another group sat at a nearby table where one young man fell onto a chair. He tumbled and we laughed. Grey-white clouds rolled across the campus sky as we grew cold. Even the beer didn't seem to help warm us as we spoke and recorded our own interviews on a historic first day of student protests in Bakersfield.
On Wednesday at the Rabobank Ed Jagels stood giving an interview with channel 17 (I didn’t hear the interview but you can read Bako Carpetbagger’s views on the interview and his post on the protests). I snapped some photos of the Jagels’ interview then went and saw the massive contingent of protesters heading down Truxton Avenue toward the Rabobank. The students walked briskly and stalled at a corner red light while students around me held up signs toward the large mass of students across the street. I could hear police sternly telling students to stay on the sidewalk. Over on California Avenue I had taken a few photos of students in the street as the police yelled for them to get back on the sidewalk. I recognized one police officer as Deron Miller. I haven't talked to him in some time, but I knew him for years. We played a lot of basketball and hockey together...
Outside the Rabobank the student masses literally poured into the area around me and around the fountain. I took a few photos and saw excited reactions from students as they observed me with the camera. I noticed a high energy from students who cheered at the media, whether me with a camera, or toward other media folks. Students were definitely motivated by attention, creating media awareness, and the excitement and energy all around. I then walked over to where Ed Jagels stood giving the interview and began taking photos.
It was just moments later that students moved into the area where Ed Jagels was giving an interview. One young Latino seemed to bump Jagels as he swung a large Mexican flag right in view of the camera; which was right behind Jagels. And then a few pairs of students with flags moved into the area, which may have brought an end to the interview, because Jagels looked around, seemingly overwhelmed and the interview soon ended. He grimaced and then shook the reporter’s hand while at least two Mexico flags were swung nearby as students carrying them danced around his immediate vicinity.
After the news crew peeled away there was a strange moment as I watched Jagels in a judgmental pose with his arms held behind his back, and then crossed in front of him as he observed kids in a near chaotic situation: running, chanting, and some actually jumping into the fountain. He turned away during those moments as if disgusted, and then as if in his own quiet way, turned back around and stared as if taunting the very energy of the morning to dare get more chaotic.
Jagels then spoke with a few men, one in a light blue shirt and dark grey slacks. He walked to a probation department car, spoke a few words, and then talked to a few more folks. He walked back onto the sidewalk and looked into the crowd in the direction of one young girl who had run into the fountain. The same girl and another soon followed. Just then Jagels cupped his face with his hand. A smirk nearly hid beneath his shadowy grasp, but still peeked through enough to be captured in a photo moment.
I did an interview with some students after that. They seemed to have an idea that they were taking a stand for immigration while not knowing all the facts. But then, this was an awareness raising day. Days later many of the participating students hopefully will learn a lot about immigration and the HR4437 amnesty bill they were protesting. Later at the bell on Truxton Avenue a speaker informed many of the protestors why such a march was so important.
After my interview with Buck Owens’ drummer, Buckaroo Dave Wulfekuehler at Jags Coffeehouse across the street from the Rabobank, I walked west to see many protesters were still congregating up and down Truxton Avenue. Many of them had poured onto Truxton Avenue. An hour had gone by, and I was shocked to see so many students and police. I heard police had taken up positions on surrounding buildings. One witness said that police on the buildings didn’t seem overly concerned and were observed laughing and talking (Laughing doesn't mean they weren't doing their jobs. In the unity podcast you will hear some thanks for the BPD keeping control of the walkout).
I called Matt Munoz at that time to come down to the protest. He literally ran down the street from where he lives downtown to see what was going on. I headed to the downtown bell to find the War Day’s Director and many others, including one protester who stood holding the American flag upside-down. I did another interview, made some comments, and then left the protest to go eat lunch and do a few tasks at my regular downtown job. I eventually headed to CSU Bakersfield with Bakotopia friend, Matt Munoz in Chanclas' truck to where many protesters had driven over and even walked. Another reporter, Gabriel Martinez from Mas Magazine followed in another car. I sat in the back spare seat and we drove up Stockdale Highway toward the university and made small talk along the way. Except for Matt who snacked on an energy bar that Chanclas gave him from a blue bag.
We parked in a lot on the northeast side of campus, got out and saw many tired faces as students were leaving the protest on long walks back to their schools. Many students had already walked for miles and their trek wasn’t over—you could see it in their faces—and others in their slow gate as they made their way to Stockdale Highway.
Near the Student Union building Matt talked to the grandson of Dolores Huerta for a few moments. I saw CSUB professor, Dr. Santos talking to a few students and then we eventually made our way into the Student Union building where historic UFW photos had been placed on easels. There was going to be a Teatro Campesino performance that night, written by a student from North Carolina. We finally made our way to get some beer, and where we could do a unity podcast discussing the day’s events.
The unity podcast itself was one-of-a-kind. Matt and I swung microphones around as each of us spoke, and we all joked and talked for some time until I accidentally lost a huge portion of my podcast. I thought the power had gone out in my recorder. We found an outlet where inside hung a very fat and nasty black widow. Those who know me understand my deathly fear of them: the 1999 Halloween death bite at a hockey game. Chanclas poked the spider out of its hiding place with a pen and all was well.
I wrote a few spider poems when in the hospital while on Morphine and Phenobarbitol and feeling trapped. Here are a few I wrote just as I left the hospital and headed into the Tehachapis, wondering about poison and life:
1.
I began reading Cain’s Book again…
Trocchi, lying on his bunk, “under the influence of heroin, inviolable.”
The golden mountains we ascend towards the desert, inviolable;
Under patches of light and low lying rainclouds from a Pacific storm.
Having bedraggled over the coastal range, in their beauty, leaving the system.
On Phenobarb and Valium, head spinning.
Perhaps the black widow toxin is inviolable, creeping still,
Along the scows in my veins.
2.
I’m out of the hospital.
Me and my morphine, leaving the system.
We head under a bulging grey cloud to the mountains.
Shadows move over golden burnt foxtails.
Darkness over the freeway.
Cars like venom. Did I almost really die?
I asked to.
Thrashing on the gurney.
Toxin exploding in mad blood moments.
A boxer on the side of the road.
Autumn says, “He’s going to get killed.”
And then gone…
we pass vineyards where rattlesnake hunters sneak for dens
…and citrus groves, where sunlight and the grey cloud hover.
And up towards the desert, where poison lurks.
I couldn't help but to think about such poems while Chanclas poked at that spider. I wondered about the toxic moments of a student protest, and if efforts would be poisonous in the end or an anti-venom for such a cause. Who knows? Time will reveal what will happen for all immigrants. The issue is hot and nearly toxic in debates.
Rain sprinkled on us as we sat outside. Another group sat at a nearby table where one young man fell onto a chair. He tumbled and we laughed. Grey-white clouds rolled across the campus sky as we grew cold. Even the beer didn't seem to help warm us as we spoke and recorded our own interviews on a historic first day of student protests in Bakersfield.
This entry was posted by N.L. Belardes, on
Thursday, March 30, 2006.
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A great account of a historic moment. I wonder what Jagels was thinking when the students invaded downtown and his interview.
Love the spider poems!
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