Estamos en la lucha!
Emma and I marched with thousands of Tucsonans for immigration reform. There was a very small group of supporters of Arizona idiocy across the park from us, maybe thirty when we got there. (Emma and I were at the end of the march, so some might've left before the march was over.) A point for people who think this is exclusively about racism: at least two of the supporters were Hispanic. One of them had a loudspeaker and was announcing that carrying ID was nothing unusual; he had his.
At that point, I started to cross toward him. Emma stopped me. I really wasn't going to do anything except smile and ask whether he had his passport or his birth certificate, because in the US, those are the only proofs of citizenship. A driver's license only says you have a mailing address.
Emma was probably right to stop me.
I wish I could remember all the signs and slogans. Most were in Spanish, which I thought was a tactical error: the supporters of this stupid law will sometimes mention the Chinese and Middle Easterners who come across the Mexican border, and if the law isn't stopped, Asian and Middle-Eastern people will be harassed, along with folks who look white but have an accent. But it was understandable; the law's greatest effect will be on Arizona's Hispanic citizens who have every conceivable right to be here, because, as some of them will say, they did not cross the border; the border crossed them.
I was amused by the signs about "Brewer for Fuehrer" and "Don't arrest me, I'm white!" I was a little saddened by the signs that spelled "Arizona" with a swastika instead of a Z. The swastika is a sacred Navajo symbol. Arizonans should know that.
After the march, we went to the Tucson Tamale Factory for fancy tamales, and then went to the Tucson Folk Festival, where we ran into Larry Hammer and Janni Simner, who we had missed at the march. All in all, it's been a mighty nice day.