Searching for Sugarman

“Woke up this morning with an ache in my head

Splashed on my clothes as I spilled out of bed
Opened the window to listen to the news
But all I heard was the Establishment's Blues”

  Sixto Rodriguez 

One highlight of the Julian Samora Research Institute thirtieth anniversary conference at Michigan State was the film “Searching for Sugarman” (2012), about an obscure Detroit folksinger, Sixto Rodriguez, who bounced around various small venues such as the Sewer Bar and Lounge.   He recorded a Dylanesque single titled “I’ll Slip Away” (“You can keep your symbols of success, then I’ll pursue my own happiness”)  and two subsequent albums. “Cold Fact” (1970) and “Coming from Reality” (1971) before being dropped by his label.  An Australian company, Blue Goose Music, acquired the rights to release a compilation album that enjoyed modest success in that country, and pirated copies made their way to South Africa.  By the 1990s, unbeknownst to Rodriguez, his music was reaching a huge anti-apartheid fan base, including activist Steve Biko. Because virtually nothing was known about the “Mexican Bob Dylan,” nicknamed “Sugarman,” bizarre rumors circulated, such as that he had shot himself at the conclusion of a poorly received performance. Meanwhile, at a government auction Rodriguez had purchased for $50 a dilapidated house (where he still resides), earned a degree in Philosophy at Wayne State, and began working heavy labor for a demolition company.  An enterprising reporter finally tracked him down after one of Rodriguez’s daughters came across an internet post.  In 1998 he made a triumphant South African tour, playing before thousands of adoring South Africans.  Here are two verses of “Establishment Blues”:

Garbage ain't collected, women ain't protected
Politicians using people, they've been abusing
The mafia's getting bigger, like pollution in the river
And you tell me that this is where it's at

. . . .

Gun sales are soaring, housewives find life boring
Divorce the only answer smoking causes cancer
This system's gonna fall soon, to an angry young tune
And that's a concrete cold fact

After the critical success of “Waiting for Sugarman,” Rodriguez appeared on Dave Letterman, performing Crucify Your Mind” that contains these lyrics:

Were you tortured by your own thirst
In those pleasures that you seek
That made you Tom the curious
That makes you James the weak?

Having driven 160 miles through rain and snow flurries to the East Lansing Marriott at Michigan State, the conference site, I found my seventh-floor room to have a splendid view of the autumn foliage. Though I registered midway through the plenary luncheon, an accommodating waitress brought me the chicken entrée and fresh rolls.  Keynote speaker Suzanne Oboler repeatedly used the trendy word Latinx (pronounced in three syllables), which I refuse to adapt, in a speech about transforming American democracy but, on a positive note, employed the clever Mark Twain line about history not repeating itself but often rhyming.  After sitting through three power point, statistic-driven talks on demographic shifts, it was refreshing to hear Communication professor Diana Rios critique the HBO “Westworld” series depiction of futuristic Mexican bandits.  It reminded me of protests a half-century ago to the Frito Bandito.  I noted that Mexicans regard outlaws such as Pancho Villa and Emiliano Zapata among their greatest heroes. For that reason perhaps, Rios’s indictment of “Westworld” was rather mild.

Thursday’s final event was the viewing of “Searching for Sugarman,” which contained many songs by Rodriguez, someone previously unknown to me.  Born in 1942, the sixth son to Mexican immigrants (hence the name Sixto), Rodriguez were amazed upon arriving in Capetown at being met by a limo and a flock of reporters. At his first concert shows ecstatic fans were weeping, igniting lighters and candles, and singing along to lyrics familiar to them.  Rodriguez was in excellent voice, backed by the South African band Big Sky.  I was relaxing afterwards at the hotel’s Bistro Bar when an MSU grad named Tony, back with three friends for a weekend of bar-hopping, struck up a conversation.  He seemed genuinely interested in why I was in town.  We got to talking about music, and I learned that many East Lansing bars feature live bands.  After receiving a degree in Criminal Justice, he was working as a court officer in Boston with duties similar to bailiffs in Indiana.   

Maria becomes U.S. citizen, 1978

Arriving early  for my Friday session, “Globalization, Migration, and Democracy,” I found Marriott’s Capitol Room to be dark and empty, but within minutes the room filled up.  My account of Maria Arredondo’s three journeys from Mexico seemed to have the audience’s full attention, with several Mexican-Americans nodding in agreement at my account of all that Maria Arredondo endured. Here are my concluding three paragraphs:

    Though unique, Maria’s life exemplifies the resilience strangers in a new land needed to confront successfully life’s vicissitudes. Indeed, she represents women in all stations and situations in life who have provided the determination, courage, and persistence needed to hold their families together. Maria emerged strong as the steel forged in the mills that provided employment for Miguel and several of their children.  Demanding but devoted, she nurtured a large brood on the tenets of hard work and discipline.  They spoke Spanish at home (at Maria’s insistence, though she learned English better than she let on) and pulled their weight once out of school or even before.  Her children’s remarkable accomplishments included athletic achievement, high union and political office, business success, and academic distinction.  Whenever any left town, they’d solicit Maria’s blessing for a safe trip.  Ramon recalled, “We’d kneel before my mom and she’d say some prayers and bless us.” The second youngest, Ramon was a keen observer of family dynamics, as was wife Trisha, welcomed without reservation into the family circle.  With rare candor, they have recorded for posterity the life journey of an unflappable Mexican American.

    In the Afterword to “Maria’s Journey” Ramon and Trisha Arredondo wrote: “At the age of 70 Maria became a naturalized citizen, and at the age of 83 she received Indiana’s highest award, the Sagamore of the Wabash.  To the end of Maria’s days, her home on the Harbor’s Euclid Avenue remained the gathering place for holiday get-togethers and Saturday lunches.  No matter how far her children strayed to pursue their education or careers, they returned home whenever possible.  Her “boys” remained the center of her universe, and she continued to cater to them, somehow managing to convey that each was her favorite.”

    Finally, I’d like to acknowledge my intellectual debt to Julian Samora whose 1967 book about East Chicago, Indiana, Mexican-Americans in a Midwest Metropolis (with Richard Lamanna) was the starting point for my journey into learning about this subject and proclaimed that family was the bulwark of Mexican tradition.  Maria would have agreed.

trailblazer Martha Bernal 

Following my presentation Kee Warner Carrillo on global communities (he first heard Credence Clearwater Revival in Mexico and is a huge Los Lobos fan) and psychologist Roberto Velasquez on mentors whose pioneering studies in acculturated stress influenced his intellectual growth.  He cited Martha Bernal, the first Latina to receive a PhD in Psychology in America (at Indiana University in 1962), whose clinical research revealed that schools frequently used culturally biased intelligence and aptitude tests that disparaged Spanish-speaking students and discouraged them from pursuing an academic curriculum.

 Jaime Sanchez

Consul Saiffe addressing conference participants; Jimbo, back, left, in vest, next to Mu Garcia

At lunch Fernanda Gonzalez Saiffe from the Mexican Consulate in Detroit spoke on misconceptions about Mexico and ties binding the two neighbors.  Seated next to me, Margarito (Mu) Garcia said he enjoyed my talk and that he taught briefly in IUN’s bilingual program and remains friends with John Attinasi.  Jaime Sanchez from Princeton was presented with the graduate student paper award for an analysis of Latinos and the 1988 Chicago mayoral election.  Attending his afternoon talk, I learned that garment workers union leader Rudy Lozano led a multi-racial coalition that supported African-American Harold Washington in the Democratic primary against incumbent Jane Byrne and Richard M. Daley, son of the five-time mayor and last of the big city bosses. While Washington received only 19% of the Latino primary vote (I stayed up most of the night until Washington was declared the winner), he received close to 70% of the Latino vote in the general election.

 Joe Campos Torres

Following Sanchez were Arturo Vega (who explained that while Latinos have triumphed politically in San Antonio, Texas, for many years, like in Gary Indiana, it hasn’t led to economic prosperity for constituents) and Texas Southern law professor Lupe Salinas (who discussed the flawed administration of justice toward Latinos in Texas).  Salinas, an affable lunch companion, cited the case of Houston police officers who murdered Joe Campos Torres.  A Vietnam vet suffering from PTSD, Torres was brutally beaten after being arrested for disorderly conduct, then thrown in a creek wearing heavy combat boots.  Beforehand, one of his tormentors allegedly said, “Let’s see if the wetback can swim.”  Two days later the body was discovered floating in the creek. The arresting officers were charged with murder, but an all-white jury found them guilty only of negligent homicide.  They received no jail time, only one year of probation and a dollar fine.

OHA mainstay Juan Coronado, who had persuaded me to participate in the Julian Samora conference, gave a fascinating presentation titled “Envidia: Beyond the Latina/o Crab Mentality.” The concept of resentment toward someone successful stems from the tale of a fisherman with a bucket of crabs unconcerned about any escaping because as one neared the top, others would pull the crab back down.  Mexican-American merchants Juan interviewed often cited envidia as an obstacle within their community.  Other presenters being no-shows, there was ample time for the feedback Coronado sought prior to publishing his findings. Providing input were Mu Garcia and young Aaron Arredondo, no relation to Maria so far as he knew. Amplifying on Juan’s colonial analysis, I noted  that suspicion of those collaborating with colonial or capitalist oppressors is often justified. Ethnic solidarity seems strongest during the first generation when essential for survival. George Krstovich recalled his father Jovo, a pioneer Serbian grocer in Gary, being infuriated when customers who’d been extended credit during the Depression shopped elsewhere afterwards and then wanted refunds on bottles purchased at chain stores.

 above, Guillermo Martinez; below, Richard Cruz Davilla

Because Juan Coronado’s session ended early, I attended one on Texas-Mexican music in time to hear guitar-playing Guillermo Martinez sing the haunting farmworker lament “Brown-Eyed Children of the Sun,” originally recorded by Daniel Valdez.  Martinez added verses pertaining to Michigan migrant experiences.  Moderator Richard Cruz Davilla, who recently published a book on Chicano punk bands such as The Brat, later presented the Michigan Heritage Award to the family of Tejano music pioneer Martin H. Solis, Jr., who performed with Conjunto Los Primos for over 25 years, bringing Texas-Mexican music to the Wolverine State. Solis passed away just two months ago at age 90.  Also on the agenda were several poets including Guillermo Martinez sans guitar.  His composition described Michigan migrant experiences, including witnessing his father hanging from a tree branch after a ladder collapsed under him. Martinez works with a Michigan summer migrant education program and plays accordion in the Karizma Band.

Martin H. Solis, Jr. and Conjunto Primos Band 

Tejano Sound Band performed a rousing blend of tradition Mexican numbers and rock and roll, with the country classic “Tennessee Whiskey” (“You’re as smooth as Tennessee whiskey, you’re as sweet a strawberry wine”) thrown in for good measure.  An elderly couple at the Martin Solis family table danced impeccably – I couldn’t take my eyes off them.  I conversed with Lebaanese-American Nabih Haddad, formerly with the Julian Samora Research Institute (JSRI) and now at the University of Michigan. At Juan Coronado’s urging I joined him on the dance floor for an upbeat number and intermingled with Latina grad students.  What a perfect climax to a memorable two days.

Tejano Sound Band vocalists; below, Jimbo and Nabih Haddad, Mu Garcia in background

At Saturday’s farewell continental breakfast I chatted with historian Julie Leininger Pycior, author of books on Chicanos in South Bend and LBJ and Mexican-Americans, who knew of Ed Escobar and my “Forging a Community.”  Delivering the closing plenary address, “Transcending the Walls of Hate” was Baldemar Velasquez, founder of FLOC (Farm Labor Organizing Committee) and leader of a successful 1980s boycott against Campbell Soup Company.  

Baldemar Velasquez

Julie Leininger Pycior

Back in Indiana in time to catch the second half of the IUN Lady Redhawks Homecoming contest against Kentucky Christian.  Standing by the home bleachers were Chancellor Bill Lowe and former longtime Redhawk announcer Chuck Gallmeier.  “You’re all dressed up,” Lowe exclaimed, so explained where I’d been. The game was close until the final minutes, when the freshman-dominated Redhawks pulled away, sparked by the floor play of guard Da’Lesha Davis, timely rebounds from Michaela Schmidt and Ashley O’Malley, and graceful drives to the basket by 6’4”” Breanna Boles, an Indiana State transfer from tiny Hoosier town of Lapel. I was impressed with the large crowd, in contrast to past years, with more streaming in for the men’s game.

Toni and Becca

Dave and T. Wade

With Toni, Angie, and Becca on a college visit to Nashville and Dave with Tom Wade in Bloomington for an IU gridiron win against Northwestern to clinch a rare bowl bid, grandfatherly duties awaited. I picked up grandson James at VU and took him to Liam’s overnight party attended by friends from bowling and Portage H.S. Thespian Club.  Picking him up the next morning, I noticed that girls had slept over and told him of being impressed that parents were cool with such arrangement.  Well, not all, he replied.  Some kids were ordered to come home.  The scene reminded me of a high school party at Bob Elliott’s where the father of an eleventh-grader stormed in to rescue his daughter Fern from the presumed den of iniquity.