I Am Joaquin: Reflection

While reading Gonzales’ piece “I Am Joaquin,” I couldn’t help but feel it was more of an essay, or a patriotic rant than a poem. Though, despite its lack of a specific meter, I can’t deny the heated emotion and sense of conviction this work of literature radiated. It’s obvious that Gonzales holds a great deal of pride for his heritage, and it comes as no surprise that he would harbor resentment for injustices inflicted on his people by “gringo” society. Still, in the face of manipulation, destruction, and a deep confusion as to who he is versus what society wants him to be, Gonzales makes it clear that even if his people may have “lost the economic battle” they have “won the struggle of cultural survival.”

For me, the most surprising aspect of this work was not only the author’s deep well of historical knowledge (the footnotes of which were very helpful for clarification), but also that, when discussing his native lands history, he connected himself to both its famous and infamous figures. He is both the mighty emperor Cuauhtémoc and the sword and flame of Cortes. For Gonzales to be able to relate himself to some of the more unpleasant people or events in Mexico’s history is something that I both respect and have a hard time understanding.

Growing up, it was difficult for me to feel pride for being a Caucasian after learning of the gruesome acts my ancestors had committed in the name of religion or self-interest. Instead, I’ve always tried to distance myself from the misdeeds of America’s past. I can’t even imagine having the guts to connect myself to both Theodore Roosevelt and James Earl Ray… Though, after more consideration, I think Gonzales was trying to make a point that while every culture has some skeletons in the closet, those experiences don’t define us as individuals, but rather assist us in seeing where our country has been and where we must head to right future wrongs. For this reason, I admire his ability to boldly draw these associations.

For the first few paragraphs of the poem, I was rather confused as to why Gonzales was calling himself Joaquin. Even after reading the short snippet on Joaquin Carrillo Murrieta, I was still curious to know more about the man who had claimed the title spot. From what I learned about this “Mexican Robin Hood,” Joaquin was a figure who embodied both good and bad, acting as a bandit as well as a sort of freedom activist. It’s no surprise that this anti-hero was the inspiration for the character Zorro and that Gonzales connected himself and his people to this man of mixed reputations.

One controversial issue this poem caused me to recall was the Arizona Senate Bill 1070 which stated that any alien over the age of 14 who remains in the country for more than 30 days must register with the U.S. government or face a hefty fee of $500. I remember feeling extremely bothered with this news when I first heard of the Bill, seeing it as a result of racists trying to ban “outsiders.” While the Bill has now been amended to exclude suspicions based on race and the fine lowered, I can sympathize with Gonzales by admitting that the Bill, no matter how much more politically correct it may appear, is still a blockade aimed at the Mexican community. Perhaps the citizens of Arizona should read “I Am Joaquin.”

(582 words)

Question: When reading the poem, did you get a sense that the author was angry, hopeful, or both? What was the most compelling thing that stood out, and how did it impact you?