THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, October 12, 1996 TAG: 9610120322
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B4 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY NANCY LEWIS, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: NORFOLK LENGTH: 73 lines
Norview High School English students got a different take on history Friday when visiting Chicano poet Anthony Vigil told them, ``Columbus is the original wetback.''
Monday marks the official birthday of the Spaniard credited with the discovery of America in 1492.
``It was the Atlantic Ocean that this cat crossed,'' while illegal Mexican immigrants need only wade across the Rio Grande to cross into ``the quote, unquote, American dream,'' said Vigil, 28, whose talks and readings have been banned from some public schools in his home city of Denver.
Vigil, 1994 winner of the Associated Writing Programs Intro Award in poetry, teaches barrio youth about their cultural heritage, including its literature. He is one of the featured visiting writers at Old Dominion University's 19th literary festival, ``Forbidden Passage,'' which focuses on censored writers.
The rift in Denver, he says, stemmed from his ``anti-capitalist, anti-military-industrial-complex'' stance. Administrators of four schools told him after his readings that he was no longer welcome.
At Norview, students listened, riveted, often cheering and applauding.
Nearly three-fourths of them are African Americans. It is because of the large number of minority students at Norview that English teacher Darnell Miller, an ODU graduate, arranged to have Vigil visit the high school. Miller also escorted about 100 Norview High School kids to ODU on Thursday for a field trip.
``We didn't come to the United States - the United States came to us,'' said Vigil (VEE-hill), explaining that his ancestors were indigenous to the Americas and that portions of the Southeast once belonged to Mexico.
``In America, if it isn't written down, it didn't happen,'' he said, calling the official version of history ``counterfeit.''
He urged the students to take pride in their own culture's history.
``They'd have me believe I'm an illegal alien, a wetback,'' Vigil said. ``I have been distanced, like many of you, from equity.''
He likened urban ghettos to barrios, saying both words are derivative of ``barrier'' and, like a wall, are ``intended to keep you down.''
``Why is it, when young men of color walk in groups, we're `gangs,' while groups of white men in blue are known as `officers?' '' he asked.
``Right!'' called out voices in the audience, which then broke into rousing applause.
``And when we walk down the street, `probable cause' is the color of our skin?'' he asked. ``People of color. We are the criminal elements . . . the faces on TV when they say, `public enemy.' ''
``They take you out, in school,'' Vigil said. ``Do you see your image in the books?''
``No!'' voices called out in unison.
``If U.S. history were written in Braille, it would take centuries to read the scars,'' Vigil intoned, eyes closed, hands extended over the podium, as if reading blind.
It's poetry, he said, that holds hope for having the minority voice heard, and for overcoming oppression. ``Poetry brings us back to our humanity,'' he said. ``It's one of the few places where you can decide who you are. That's what poetry did for me.''
Quoting, in part, from his work, Vigil threw out phrases to make his point: ``Unravel the letters of our hearts . . . the court room gathers on behalf of the status quo . . . freedom is a word seldom uttered by the masses . . . born free but behind bars.'' MEMO: Today at ODU: Panel discussion, Vigil and others, ``The Poetics
of Revolution: Fighting America's Invisible Censors.'' 1:30 p.m.,
Chandler Recital Hall, in Diehn Fine and Performing Arts Center, on 49th
Street and Elkhorn Avenue. ILLUSTRATION: RICHARD L. DUNSTON
The Virginian-Pilot by CNB