Showing posts with label CSULB. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CSULB. Show all posts

Monday, March 23, 2009

AB-540 Ally Training

Mojad@s Anónim@s:
"Leticia del Rio Bravo"


Last Friday, March 13th, several faculty and staff from California State University, Long Beach attended the campus’ second AB-540 Ally Training.

Passed in 2001, Assembly Bill 540 allows non-residents to pay in-state tuition as long as they meet a few requirements. These requirements include having attended a California high school for three or more years, graduating from a high school or attaining a GED, and being accepted into a California college or university. Undocumented students who fulfilled these requirements were exempt from paying out-of-state tuition. Upon acceptance to a university, these students file an affidavit stating that they qualify for Assembly Bill 540 and will apply for residency as soon as they are able. The passage of Assembly Bill 540 was only the beginning.

After being accepted into a university many students maneuvered through the system undetected and unnoticed. It is not hard to see why many students did not speak out about their situation. Maneuvering under the radar comes with some consequences, though. If people don’t know you or know about you, how can they help you meet your needs? That is the problem that we undocumented studentscontinue to face, and until now we did not have enough resources to reach out the faculty. More importantly, we did not have security.

After the passage of AB-540, some years later, countless organizations on different university campuses have emerged. There is an entire network of support groups for AB-540 students on most colleges and universities. Some of these groups include: IDEAS (Improving Dreams, Equality, Access and Success) from UCLA, Voces del Mañana from Glendale Community College, and FUEL (Future Underrepresented Educated Leaders) here at CSULB. Yes, there is an AB-540 support group at CSULB as well.

Established in Spring 2007, FUEL members have been involved in several high school outreaches, fundraisers, and immigration forums. In weekly meetings, FUEL members often discussed the frustration with the faculty and staff on campus; students felt afraid to approach them regarding their "situation." They felt frustrated at the insensitivity received or they felt afraid of disclosing information to the wrong staff. That is where the idea of training the faculty and staff began.

Dr. Elena Macias, assistant Vice President of Governmental & Community Relations and FUEL’s Faculty Advisor, listened and understood our frustrations. She, along with Jamie Johnson from the Upward Bound Program on-campus and a member of the Orange County "Dream Team" for the past 5 years, ran the first training in the Fall 2008 semester.

Dr. Elena approached and asked us, "What if students could identify the people with whom they could speak about AB-540?"

When we first heard this we all simply replied, "Well, we would feel more comfortable, we wouldn’t have to explain everything to them, and we wouldn’t be afraid. But how would we know whom to approach?"

Dr. Macias and Mr. Johnson established the training around the needs that we, FUEL members, needed. At our Fall 2008 retreat, we sat together and compiled a list of things that we needed in an ally. During the trainings, Dr. Macias has shared with the staff and faculty what we feel we need from them. Fortunately with the training, our allies will give us confidentiality and we will no longer feel afraid to approach them.

A particular lack of information has been of great concern to me, however: the origins of the training. It is very important to acknowledge that the Ally Training was inspired by the LGBTQ Safe Zone training. It is also important to recognize the similarities between the undocumented student population on campus that cannot speak out to just anyone and the LGBTQ community that cannot just come out to anyone on campus either. A student is able to recognize the AB-540 or Safe Zone plaque and immediately understand that it is a place of confidentiality. The link between these groups is important because both can be considered an invisible minority on campus. If a person can understand the frustration of one group, they can begin to understand the frustration of the other. I do believe that the similarity between the Safe Zone Training and the Ally Training can help establish solidarity between many groups.

That is exactly what we need right now. All groups fighting for social justice to join together and understand each others’ struggles. ¶

For more AB-540 student resources, check out CSULB's AB 540 On-Line Resource Guide.

Whose Legacy?

Yadira Arroyo
El Reflejo should have attacked this measure before the voting took place. I know, I know.

Thankfully however, the Beach Legacy Referendum did not pass.

If it had passed, the BLR would have increased student fees at Cal State Long Beach by $95 per semester ($70 for a summer semester) starting in 2010 to fund athletic scholarships, a new soccer field, a new track, and a women’s something-or-other sports team so that the school wouldn’t lose a men’s sports team.

Well, it did not pass, so what use is it now to break down the arguments? No use really, except perhaps to record my own humble opinion. So, I won’t do that. At least not thoroughly. What I can’t seem to put aside though, were the peculiar events that took place on the first day of voting.

A bunch of us were scheduled to flyer at 2pm on Wednesday March 11. I marched to the Raza Center to gather the troops, but perhaps there had been a misunderstanding, or the revolution was not scheduled for that time and I missed the memo, because several of my peers seemed puzzled, or a bit lax when I announced, "It is time." I left the Center alone, with a stack of flyers that Indira, part of Students for Quality Education, had provided for us.

I called Julio, fellow Reflejo staff member and cartoonist extraordinaire, only to find he was actually way ahead of me, at that moment fighting the good fight at Maxson Plaza, right outside of Brotman Hall. I met him and Indira there.

Traffic was slow and we decided to move our actions to the walkway by the Psychology building and bookstore. Julio left and I was glad to see members from La Raza Student Association and FUEL arriving to replace him. There, we happily flyered – until they came.

Immediately, I could tell that they were athletes. The sweatpants and rowdiness gave the group of women away.

Cackling, they approached one of our allies, whose name I must apologize for forgetting, took flyers from him and asked him for more. And then…

Their fearless leader jumped on a bench, and standing on her toned and tanned legs announced:
"This is what I think of this!"

Rip. She tore one of our flyers to pieces as her teammates cheered her on. And as if that weren’t enough drama, she haughtily tossed the shreds in the trash.

I cringed at the sight. Suddenly, I was flooded with acid memories of high school, where the cheerleaders tormented the geeks, who for the most part, actually gave a fuck about shit. Except that wait – I was raised in South Central and I never went to a school like that. I realized then that I was confusing my life with the one portrayed in white teenager films and television shows like She’s All That, Popular, and Bring It On. That’s where those memories came from!

We continued to pass out flyers and encourage people to vote against the referendum. They continued to harass us – I mean, vouch for the BLR.

"You see her?" exclaimed the leader, pointing at me. "She doesn’t care about her school. She doesn’t care about school pride!"

And what could I say? It’s true, I don’t care about school pride. The last time I thought that sports and pride were essential to a fulfilling college experience, I was a goofy freshman who took pride in her bowling alley, pool tables, Panda Express and video arcade.

"She doesn’t know what she’s talking about!" she continued. "I bet she’s never even been to a basketball game…"

Her buddies roared, because I’m a loser, or an American freak, or something. But then came the kicker.

"…in her life!"

I was bewildered. I looked bewildered.

"Umm, what does basketball have to do with anything?" I turned and asked them.

And I was hoping they’d let me in on the secret. Like, watching basketball has been proven to quicken the path towards graduation. Or basketball is the ultimate embodiment of coolness, like being sexually active. But it doesn’t come.

"Why are you voting ‘No’?" one of them asks me.

"I am voting ‘No’ because I cannot afford to pay for tuition. I had to drop to part-time this semester and even then, it’s difficult to pay."

But, they were armed with the perfect rebuttals. I was no match.

"Wow! Is that the only reason you’re voting against it?"

More cackles.

"Did you know that Cal State Long Beach is one of the best value colleges in the nation? Top 3! You’re paying some of the cheapest tuition anywhere in the States!"

My demands were ludicrous.

"Yeah, and I still cannot afford it."

Somehow, the "I’m one of those for-real broke people," message was not getting across. How could I sit down and tell them of my parents’ financial woes? How could I explain to them that because my parents own property, I cannot receive grants?

And so, they continued. I felt like I was at an anti-war protest. Their "She has no school pride!" taunts reminded me of "You’re not an American!"

I’ve been wondering this whole week whether I can pull the race card on this one. As I looked around that day, I noticed that those of us flyering were Latino, and most of the BLR supporters were white. They wore "Beach Gear" and looked primp and proper. But perhaps the class card would be more fitting.

The results of the elections made me happy, made me believe in people a little bit. Certainly, the economy had a lot to do with the referendum not passing. The majority of voting students saw their request as ludicrous.

As I have flashbacks from that action, the cackling of Cal State Long Beach’s women’s basketball team echoes in my memory. This was but one small victory in the battle for more equal access to higher education. And I can laugh my ass off and gloat in self-righteousness too, but I have more class than that. ¶