Proclamation of the Delano Grape Workers for
International Boycott Day
May 10, 1969
by Dolores Huerta
We, the striking grape workers of California, join on this International Boycott Day with the consumers across the continent in planning the steps that lie ahead on the road to our liberation. As we plan, we recall the footsteps that brought us to this day and the events of this day. The historic road of our pilgrimage to Sacramento later branched out, spreading like the unpruned vines in struck fields, until it led us to willing exile in cities across this land. There, far from the earth we tilled for generations, we have cultivated the strange soil of public understanding, sowing the seed of our truth and our cause in the minds and hearts of men.
We have been farmworkers for hundreds of years and pioneers for seven [when
the first farmworkers union was formed]. Mexicans, Filipinos, Africans and
others, our ancestors were among those who founded this land and tamed its
natural wilderness. But we are still pilgrims on this land, and we are pioneers
who blaze a trail out of the wilderness of hunger and deprivation that we have
suffered even as our ancestors did. We are conscious today of the significance
of our present quest. If this road we chart leads to the rights and reforms we
demand, if it leads to just wages, humane working conditions, protection from
the misuse of pesticides, and to the fundamental right of collective bargaining,
if it changes the social order that relegates us to the bottom reaches of
society, then in our wake will follow thousands of American farmworkers. Our
example will make them free. But if our road does not bring us to victory and
social change, it will not be because our direction is mistaken or our resolve
too weak, but only because our bodies are mortal and our journey hard. For we
are in the midst of a great social movement, and we will not stop struggling
'til we die, or win!
We have been farmworkers for hundreds of years and strikers for four. It was
four years ago that we threw down our plowshares and pruning hooks. These
Biblical symbols of peace and tranquility to us represent too many lifetimes of
unprotesting submission to a degrading social system that allows us no dignity,
no comfort, no peace. We mean to have our peace, and to win it without violence,
for it is violence we would overcome the subtle spiritual and mental violence of
oppression, the violence subhuman toil does to the human body. So we went and
stood tall outside the vineyards where we had stooped for years. But the tailors
of national labor legislation had left us naked. Thus exposed, our picket lines
were crippled by injunctions and harassed by growers; our strike was broken by
imported scabs; our overtures to our employers were ignored. Yet we knew the day
must come when they would talk to us, as equals.
We have been farmworkers for hundreds of years and boycotters for two. We did
not choose the grape boycott, but we had chosen to leave our peonage, poverty
and despair behind. Though our first bid for freedom, the strike, was weakened,
we would not turn back. The boycott was the only way forward the growers left to
us. We called upon our fellow men and were answered by consumers who said - as
all men of conscience must - that they would no longer allow their tables to be
subsidized by our sweat and our sorrow: They shunned the grapes, fruit of our
affliction.
We marched alone at the beginning, but today we count men of all creeds,
nationalities, and occupations in our number. Between us and the justice we seek
now stand the large and powerful grocers who, in continuing to buy table grapes,
betray the boycott their own customers have built. These stores treat their
patrons' demands to remove the grapes the same way the growers treat our demands
for union recognition - by ignoring them. The consumers who rally behind our
cause are responding as we do to such treatment - with a boycott! They pledge to
withhold their patronage from stores that handle grapes during the boycott, just
as we withhold our labor from the growers until our dispute is resolved.
Grapes must remain an unenjoyed luxury for all as long as the barest human needs and basic human rights are still luxuries for farmworkers. The grapes grow sweet and heavy on the vines, but they will have to wait while we reach out first for our freedom. The time is ripe for our liberation.