#workersdefenseproject

[caferebelde]

This was the best vegan food i have had. And i have been vegan for 14 years. Yr' the most best amazing cook. I [heart] U.

-Cristina Tzintzun

[elpaseo-katelynhall]

Notas del campo

Last night at 6 p.m., I jumped in my car and headed to Oak Cliff. My destination was Christ Episcopal Church on West 10th Street, a medium sized building adjacent to busy streets, but cradled in a small neighborhood of brightly painted houses decorated for Halloween.

As I made my way from the manicured lawns of Highland Park through expansive industrial zones to the quiet, but eclectic neighborhood in Oak Cliff, I thought about how differently Dallasites could experience this city.

(Workers Defense Project Meeting signs surrounded the church on W. 10th Street. Original photo.)

It was this different perspective I was seeking in my visit to the church for the Workers Defense Project meeting. The group meets every Tuesday night from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m. to discuss in Spanish rights of workers and how to improve working conditions in the state of Texas.

Last week, I had called the group to schedule an appointment, and they immediately invited me to attend the weekly meeting of roughly 30 people.

(The traditional church's coloring was obscured by dusk. This is the last photo of the night because my phone crashed and I do not have a camera. Next time, I will be sure to borrow an extra to bring along.)

The task was an exciting one. As a Spanish and Journalism major interested in the rights of immigrants and migrant workers, the WDP or El Proyecto Defensa Laboral, was the perfect place for me to learn more about the issues I care about.

While my goals were clear as I drove across town to the meeting, my mind was cluttered.  I had to be prepared, not intrude, and keep up with two hours of nonstop Spanish conversation.

I arrived and immediately met Stephanie Charakhanian, a staff member who I had spoken with on the phone the week before. Because I was early, I stood quietly behind a group of nine around a circular folding table. Stephanie informed me that these men and women were leaders in the group. They meet at 6 p.m. before every meeting to prepare for the 7 p.m. arrival of everyone else. 

The woman leading this discussion was Marissa Ocampo, a kind, enthusiastic woman who spoke about facilitating conversación dinámica in a fittingly dynamic manner.

I glanced around the room as the group talked about what it meant to be leaders and how to encourage participation in small groups. It was a large, dated room that seemed to double as a shop in the daytime. There was a stand of cards that read “1937 was a good year—Happy Birthday” and a placard and picture of a man whose white collar and black garb seemed to indicate he was the pastor at this church.

A few knickknacks and t-shirts had been moved aside to accommodate the WDP meeting.

As time ticked by, trabajadores began to trickle in slowly. All of the members present were Spanish-speaking and Hispanic.  A few wore casual clothing—leggings and sweaters. But most wore what seemed to be what they wore to work:  sturdy boots and thick jeans.  The crowd included roughly the same number of men and women.

The leader meeting wrapped up and we all began to shove chairs into a circle. “Ninguna silla vacía” or “No empty chairs!” one leader called out, urging everyone to come together in community.  I could tell immediately that this was going to be an intimate and engaging conversation.

Before the group started, the attention shifted to me, as they asked new attendees to introduce themselves.  I rose my hand indicating I was new and was quickly urged, “A la pie!” or to get up to speak.  I looked around at the faces in the circle as I said I was a SMU student.  Most of them looked tired, but very kind. One lady even winked at me to ease my nerves.

After the introductions, the newcomers were asked to go to a separate activity called “Know your rights.” The other members broke into small groups to discuss other labor issues.

The hour-long discussion centered on basic workers’ rights in Texas, including minimum wage, contracts, and safety. Beside myself, there were five new members and one other student present.  The workers wanted to discuss specific cases and learn about their rights. The student, a Human Rights major at SMU, was there as a potential volunteer for the organization.

Ocampo led our group through skits, questions and discussions about various rights of workers in the state.

It was highly engaging. I found myself participating as much as the workers, asking questions about verbal contracts and safety requirements on construction sites. Just being there made me feel like I had a stake in the issue.  Which I really do—I am a human, and I want these people to have the same safety in their jobs as cooks, cleaners and construction workers, as I do working on campus.

Around 8:30 people began wrapping up their discussions. This is when I met a man who looked to be in his late thirties or mid forties. We made small talk in Spanish for a little bit, and I asked him if I could speak to him again. “¿Quieres un interview, sí?” – “You want an interview, right?” he said in a Spanglish mix.  He jotted down his phone number on my notepad and told me to call him Saturday. “Maybe we can meet Sunday near Northpark so you don’t have to drive too far,” he offered.

I’m looking forward to talking to this man and learning more about his story and those of others.

This was a very fruitful step in my reporting process.