Guillermo GalindoBy about 10:15, a.m., when I arrived at my office at the Stemmons Towers on I-35 to get ready for what would become a historical mega-march, you could feel excitement in the cool, crisp Sunday morning air. The parking lot outside was so full of cars it might have been a work day. But on April 9, the lot was a designated pickup point for DART and other bus companies to transport hundreds of us downtown.

My staff was already there, well-prepared with burritos, chicharrones in hot sauce and coffee. They had stayed until midnight the night before preparing signs for the march and as we warmed up the home made frijoles that morning; we gave some last minute touches to our creations. As we looked down at the fast-filling parking lot, everybody was excited and maybe had a touch of nerves.

There were around 10 of us from the office, but we had sent out e-mails to about 300 people inviting them to march. The rumor from the organizers was that around 30,000 people would show up altogether. We debated whether to take our own vehicles and park them as close to the starting point but at the end we decided to ride the bus.

Everyone who had lined up for the buses down in the lot looked nice, dressed in white--kids, moms, dads, young and old people. To my surprise, no Mexican flags were visible; all U.S. flags.

A bus from Transportes Mexicanos pulled up. Some of the bus companies that carry people to South Texas or into Mexico had donated their vehicles for the event. We were lucky to board the first bus, especially after we saw 80 to 100 people also waiting, and more on the way.

We arrived at the intersection of Ross Avenue and Pearl Street about 11:50 a.m. The crowd was unbelievable. We got off near the Plaza of the Americas and walked over to the Cathedral, where hundreds of people already were milling around. Again, to my surprise, maybe one Mexican flag among all the U.S. flags. And I noticed yet again the diversity of the crowd: mothers with their babies in strollers, young kids, people in wheel chairs, brown, black, white, Catholic, Protestant. All proud to be a part of this historic event.

I know that Latinos traditionally are not known for being punctual, but the march started at 1 p.m., just as scheduled. And people kept coming from all directions. You could see the crowd extending many blocks, all the way past North Central Expressway.

Then, we started moving, walking west toward Griffith Street. It took an hour to move from the Cathedral on Pearl and Ross to City Hall. By that time, I could see hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of people behind us. Policemen were lined up all along Main Street, by the Federal Courthouse. They stood solemnly as we passed by. Some were smiling, some nodded and some kept very serious faces. But everybody continued walking in an orderly fashion.

I noticed a familiar face riding in a golf cart, smiling and waving at the crowd, shouting "¡Sí se puede!" Indeed, I knew him well. We had marched in Dallas many times over education, police brutality, redistricting, city government and other civil rights issues. I walked over to Al Lipscomb and said hello. It was good to see an old friend here.

I have been to scores of marches all over the country: Texas, California, New Mexico, and Arizona. But never in my life have I seen such a large group as we had that day. It reminded me so much of the civil rights movements I was involved in in the early ‘70s throughout Texas. But this was much, much bigger.

Some people say that the immigration rallies and movement should not be compared to the civil rights movement of the 1960s. But what else can you call a half a million people walking in unison to support los de abajo, the underdogs, the invisible faces crying for help, looking for a way to stay in this country to be a part of mainstream America. For me, this movement today is absolutely part of the long tradition and history in this country for minorities and immigrants seeking nothing more than an equal share of the American dream.

Let’s not victimize the victims. Let’s include them. If we have to look for fault, let’s find it not with the hard-working immigrants, but with the countries from which they are forced to flee in order to live decent lives. One place we can certainly look is Mexico.

At City Hall, where the march converged, we listened to speaker after speaker calling for just treatment for the undocumented. But, I thought, where are the critiques and passionate speeches addressing the true reason people risk their lives to come here? How can this movement ignore the central cause of its necessity--the corrupt governments in Mexico, Central and South America? Whatever it means to Americans, illegal migration to the U.S. is a safety valve against revolution for the corrupt politicians beyond our borders and an incentive not to bring any substantial changes to their governments.

These fraudulent governments join ranks with the private, powerful ruling classes to encourage such migration. They love it. It keeps them from facing a long overdue national debate about the 10 per cent of the wealthy families that control 85 per cent of the wealth, in Mexico in particular. Content with the status quo, they have no desire to change. Not only do they enjoy the benefits of a tight grip on the economy, but also the fruit of the more than $20 billion that the legal and undocumented paisano sends back to Mexico every year. Such remittance will soon be the number one revenue in Mexico.

The visible leadership and specifically the Mexican-American leadership in the U.S. must criticize Mexico’s government and ruling class. We must exert pressure for a just redistribution of wealth so that Mexico’s citizens can live in their home country and dream of a good and decent life for themselves and their children. The current level of illegal immigration to the United States will only end when Mexico makes itself a place in which it pays to stay, not escape.

Perhaps that is for another march, in another country.

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