Cesar Chavez

Hello, my name is Cesar Chavez, and I believe that ordinary people can do extraordinary things. My story begins on a big, sprawling farm near Yuma, Arizona, where I was born on March 31st, 1927. Life on our adobe homestead was filled with the smells of the earth and the sounds of my big, happy family. I had so many brothers, sisters, and cousins to play with. We learned from our parents and grandparents about the importance of working hard, sharing what we had, and treating everyone with respect. The farm wasn't just land to us; it was our home, our life. But when I was about ten years old, a difficult time called the Great Depression swept across the country. Like many others, my family lost everything we had. We packed our belongings into our old car and had to say a painful goodbye to the only home I had ever known. We became migrant farmworkers, traveling from place to place across California, searching for any work we could find in the fields.

Life as a migrant worker was incredibly difficult. My family and I would wake up before the sun rose and work for hours under the blazing hot sun, picking fruits and vegetables. The pay was very low, and the places we lived were often just small, crowded shacks without electricity or running water. We were treated unfairly, and it felt like nobody cared about us. I went to more than thirty different schools because we moved so often, and it was hard to make friends or keep up with my lessons. These tough times planted a seed in my heart. I saw the injustice all around me and knew it wasn't right. After I grew up and served in the U.S. Navy for a couple of years, I returned to the fields and met my wonderful wife, Helen Fabela. It was then that I met a man named Fred Ross. He was a community organizer, and he taught me that if people joined their voices together, they could be powerful enough to make a change. He showed me how to organize people and help them stand up for their rights.

That idea never left me. I knew my life’s purpose was to fight for the farmworkers. So, in 1962, my good friend Dolores Huerta and I started a new organization. We called it the National Farm Workers Association. At first, it was just the two of us going from town to town, talking to workers in the fields and in their homes, asking them to join us. Our biggest moment came on September 8th, 1965, when we joined a strike against the grape growers in Delano, California. The workers were tired of the terrible pay and dangerous conditions. To bring attention to our struggle, in 1966, we organized a 340-mile march from Delano all the way to the state capital, Sacramento. It was a long and tiring journey, but thousands of people joined us along the way. I was inspired by leaders like Mahatma Gandhi and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who taught that you could fight for justice without violence. So, we never used our fists. Instead, we used our voices and our feet. We organized boycotts, asking people all over the country not to buy grapes until the workers were treated fairly. Sometimes, I would go on a fast, refusing to eat to show how serious our commitment to peace was. Our motto became famous: “¡Sí, se puede!”. It means, “Yes, we can!”.

Our struggle was long. For five years, we marched, we protested, and we held on to hope. Finally, in 1970, the grape growers agreed to talk with us. They signed contracts with our union, which we had renamed the United Farm Workers. This was a huge victory. It meant that thousands of farmworkers would finally get better pay, clean drinking water in the fields, and safer working conditions. It showed that our peaceful fight had worked. My life ended on April 23rd, 1993, but the work we started continues. Looking back, I see that my story is not just about me. It is about the power we all have when we stand together for what is right. It shows that no matter how small you feel, your voice matters. I hope you remember that you have the power to make the world a better, fairer place for everyone.