Ricardo Sánchez Memorial Service
Washington State University, Bryan Auditorium
Phil Duran
September 19, 1995
Ricardo Sánchez, G.E.D. and Ph.D., lived and died a warrior for justice.
He died of cancer but was not defeated by it. When he learned of his
terminal diagnosis, he didn't just go somewhere to lie down and die. He
still made big plans. He remained creative and wrote some of his most
passionate poetry in the pain of illness. When he had surgery on Jan. 26,
he asked to be awakened to the sound of Chicano music. When he was buried,
a band of mariachis sang and fellow poets uttered their statements. That's
what he wanted. In a few moments, when I take my seat, we will listen to a
4-minute piece of passionate Chicano music from an audio tape which María
Teresa sent me for this occasion. It will be a beautiful experience as we
celebrate Ricardo's life, not mourn his death.
Ricardo learned to escape the negativism and despair of his barrio. A
story he often related was about his second-grade teacher:
"I once had the audacity to tell my teacher... when she asked
us what we wanted to do when we grew up. I said I wanted to
become a writer and a poet. I do not know why. I was fascinated
by language. My teacher said, Ricardo, you are just going to
disappoint yourself. People like you, Mexican people, you are
not born to do those kinds of things with your life, you should
accept what you are, you're going to be a janitor, you're going
to collect garbage, you're going to work for the city, but a
poet? Ricardo, Mexicans don't become poets or writers."
Actually, Ricardo was very indigenous. His grandmother was a Tewa from
San Juan Pueblo. It was the Tewa leader Popé who led the well-known
Pueblo Indian revolt of 1680. And he made it clear he was not "Hispanic."
He was Chicano, and Chicanos are not immigrants. "We didn't come to the
U.S., the U.S. came to us."
One of Ricardo's legacies is the number of people who were empowered
because he convinced them to aspire to greatness. When he wrote for the
San Antonio Express in 1988, he was invited to perform poetry all day
long in the high school at Eagle Pass, TX. The school was almost 100%
Chicano. In my archive of Ricardo's documents, I have a transcript of
what he said: "What I told the children was that every human being,
every creature born, has an inherent capacity for greatness, and that we
must somehow explore ourselves and arrive at our personal greatness, so
we can add to human society. A beautiful, meaningful measure of
realization with our lives. I believe we are all born to enjoy life,
and share the wonder of humanity." At the end of the day, one the
school's teachers was angry with him for filling the students' minds
with false hopes.
Ricardo spent part of the summer of 1994 in Dallas, where he taught a
workshop to youth and led them to publish a poetic anthology. After
reading poetry at the Dallas public library, he was given the Texas flag
which had been flown only once, on June 27. On that same occasion, the
Texas House of Representatives expressed their high esteem for him with
a resolution containing the seal of the State of Texas.
Ricardo was an internationally recognized human rights activist . In
February 1993 an International Emergency Committee, which included a
longstanding British member of Parliament, urged him to participate in
a dangerous mission to Peru because a political prisoner's life was
threatened by Alberto Fujimori.. The letter reads: "As an internationally
recognized poet, known for defending the human rights of people throughout
the U.S., Central America and Latin America, your participation is
imperative. Your knowledge of the culture, your mastery of the language,
and your personal courage and stand would be essential to the impact this
delegation can have. We implore you to move heaven and earth to participate
in this historic delegation."
Ricardo was the enemy of whatever excludes, degrades, desecrates, and
dehumanizes. He used his culture to draw all people together. Professor
Paul Christensen of the Texas A & M faculty wrote that "Sánchez makes his
Chicano identity the basis for celebrating the merger of other humanity
around him..."
Ricardo loved spontaneity. I saw him twice create poetry on stage in
real time.
During the Border Crossings Conference in 1992, I thought of how fortunate
our University was to host such a significant event which drew so many
enthusiastic Chicano artists from different parts of the country who came
to enjoy themselves here and share their skills with our community. An
author from Italy, who had been looking for such an opportunity, also
came and paid her expenses. During one of the sessions, she read poetry
in Italian. It was translated Chicano poetry, and the authors were right
here in Bryan Auditorium, sitting in the audience.
So, Ricardo, thank you for satisfying my culturahunger. Today I often
sit alone in those familiar places, musing over the sacred things we once
discussed when we tried to solve the world's problems and hoped for better
times for our families, our people, our universeÉ In moments of
forgetfulness I still await your return. I turn back the clock five years
to adjust the past. But time will not reverse itself, so I hide my pain
and look for another one like you to arrive.
Un Puño de Tierra (last verse)
el día que yo me muera the day i die
no voy a llevarme nada I will take nothing with me
hay que darle gusto al gusto "life must be lived to the fullest"
la vida pronto se acaba life will soon be over
lo que pasó en este mundo of the things that happened in this world
nomás el recuerdo queda only the memory remains
ya muerto voy a llevarme once dead i will carry with me
nomás un puño de tierra only a fistful of dirt