Citizens join protest, back undocumented migrants
Yvonne Wingett The Arizona Republic Apr. 11, 2006 12:00 AM
Early Monday, a group of 30 Hispanic women of all ages gathered outside a west Phoenix clothing store and warehouse. They are saleswomen and cashiers, but they had Monday off so they could march.
Inside the giant store filled with trendy tank tops and western wear, Ana De Anda raced around, directing employees to load thousands of bottles of water and hundreds of pro-immigrant T-shirts to hand out to marchers.
This would be the first time that Ana and her sister, Theresa, closed the doors of their family business, La Perrona Botas y Ropa. Since 2003, through every holiday, and even the day their father, Jose de Jesus, died, the girls stocked displays and rang up sales.
But Monday was the march. The Somos Americamarch.
Ana wanted to walk in solidarity with her employees and customers, who she guesses are largely undocumented. Ana hoped the march would be peaceful, and that her voice would carry along with the thousands to Washington.
"I want to support all the people who come and buy from us," said Ana, 30, dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt and a Tiffany necklace. "I want them to know that we're standing next to them. We have what we have because of our customers."
Daughter of immigrants Done loading, she stepped outside and asked a security guard to close the large warehouse garage door. As the large metal door rolled to the cement floor, a pair of signs appeared in Spanish.
"La Perrona closed its doors today, April 10, to support all of the Hispanic community."
Ana hopped into her SUV and joined a caravan of several vehicles filled with her employees and sister to the state fairgrounds.
Ana is the daughter of undocumented immigrants. Jose de Jesus and Rosa Maria crossed north separately in the early 1970s, met, married, and settled in Los Angeles. Ana and her five siblings were born in California and thus are American citizens. The parents opened clothing stores and managed to raise their children on a modest income.
Ana's father became a legal resident, and then a U.S. citizen, after the 1986 amnesty; her mother became a citizen in 2001. Ana believes legalization of the estimated 11 million to 12 million undocumented immigrants living in this country is just around the corner.
Like many of her employees and customers, Ana said her father "always believed, papers or no papers, if you do things right, you can succeed."
Speaking as she drove to the march, she wiped away a tear. Her father died just 10 months ago.
"He also believed in supporting the Hispanic community. I know he's watching us."
Moving to Phoenix
By noon, the number of employees with Ana at the state fairgrounds had grown to 50 from 30. They passed out the T-shirts and thousands of bottles of water. In the shadows of giant banners of American flags and Cesar Chavez, she yelled, "Agua gratis! Agua gratis!" Free water, free water.
Ana's dad moved the family to Phoenix in 1995 after they lost their stores during Los Angeles' deep recession. He put all of the store merchandise in a truck and sold it at swap meets, selling fashionable tops and pants at low prices. Ana's father and the family worked hard, and today they have six Valley stores.
A good feeling
On Grand Avenue near Taylor Street, Ana uses her long acrylic nails to dial up her boyfriend and other friends to talk about the march as she walked. Some around her chant "S, se puede." Many carry American flags. Looking around as the crowd continued through downtown Phoenix, she said, "It's beautiful."
Even before everyone reached the capitol, she felt the lawmakers in Washington would surely hear her and others now, with such a massive march.
"I'm a part of something big," she said. "The government will see that we all are standing together."