we're resisting the prejudices
of the past, the restrictions, you know, on people in the past
and we wanted to create a space that could train young people to
use the arts, especially theater and film, to change their
lives and the lives of others. Damian Trujillo: And your
brother, Daniel, said that he left to Delano to spend a
week there to help out and he never came home. Talk about that experience and
what it was about that movement that lured you there and said,
"I--this is where I need to be." Luis: The idea of going back
to Delano to settle the score was very important to me. Because I was in the fields from
the time almost before I could walk, you know, as
my mother's arms. I had already been
through college. I graduated from San José State. I'd spent a year with the
San Francisco Mime Troupe. So I went to Cesar and pitched
him an idea of a theater of, by, and for farm workers, which
became then El Teatro Campesino. Damian: The march to
Sacramento and you're--it's a dusty trail and then you're in
the back of trucks doing your actos, and, at some point
when you're in the back of that truck,
did you ever say to yourself, "What am I doing here? I'm in the back of a truck"? Luis: There are photos of me
performing on flatbed trucks, not just on the picket line but
also on the march to Sacramento. That proved to be the
big game changer for us. This was in the spring of 1966. Cesar chose for us to march
from Delano to Sacramento, to really reclaim our rights. But basically, there were 100
farm workers who started out, out of Delano, including Cesar,
you know, myself, others that just began the long march. And by the time we got to
Sacramento on Easter Sunday, there were 10,000. We were 10,000 strong, you
know, union supporters, other farm workers;
it was incredible. Along the way, El Teatro
Campesino performed on a flatbed truck and the use of
theater, music, song, in the march as well as on those
flatbed trucks, was an important element, you know, in really
capturing the excitement and-- of that social change. Damian: Behind you is a
theater screen of "Zoot Suit." And you talk about
the Pachuco era. In the Zoot Suit Riots it was
American patriots who assaulted American citizens. Luis: In the Zoot Suit
Riots and in the streets of Los Angeles in 1943, in which US
sailors and servicemen attacked Zoot Suiters, you know, Mexican
American Pachucos in their Zoot Suits, and stripped them. Was very much a reflex
of that racist impulse. I must say that 30 years later,
you know, 38 years later when I wrote "Zoot Suit" and staged
it at the Los Angeles Theater Center and so it
became an instant hit. It was a psychic wound
that came from racism. El Pachuco: The mono you're
about to see is a construct of fact and fantasy;
it was the secret fantasy-- Luis: This is the club--one
of the clubs that was used by a sailor who was in the streets of
Los Angeles during the Zoot Suit Riots in 1943. It was brought to us by his son
who was coming to see the play and he--as it was his form of
apologizing for what he did in the Zoot Suit Riots. And I think it's a
wonderful gesture. It shows you that people can
heal on all sides, regardless of what they did, in time. Time literally heals. Damian: Wow,
that's incredible. Your other film, "La Bamba,"
why do you think it resonated with everybody? I mean, even in multi
generations, my kids--I've seen it with my kids four
or five times, maybe. Luis: Music is the
balm of all human ills. When Ritchie Valens, when he
came out with "La Bamba," I mean, that was a shock. When I first heard
"La Bamba" on the radio, I couldn't believe it. There's a song in Spanish
being sung and it's rock 'n' roll;
who is this guy? So it was really a question of
having to tell this story as part of the American experience
and so it's a story that I wanted to tell early on,
although the very specific moment of the birth of "La
Bamba" in our minds occurred at a very specific time in
a very special place. It's the opening night of "Zoot
Suit" on Broadway, and so we're over here by 7th Ave in my
brother's dressing room on the second floor and
we're full of ourselves. And at that moment, almost as
an answer, we heard music coming from down below and, as it turns
out, it was mariachi music. They were playing "La Bamba." So my brother Daniel and I
looked at each other and we said, "La Bamba." So that was the
birth of the idea. ♪ Para bailar la bamba. ♪ Luis: It was a story that
needed to be told and fate chose us to tell the story. Damian: One of your signs up
here on the wall says: "Social justice," as that's what you
were fighting for back then. It's 2021 and we're still
fighting for social justice. What does that say about
who we are as Americans? Luis: Well, I think that you
have to consider that injustice is like weeds, you know, they
grow in the garden and no matter what you do, you can clean your
garden one day and have it full of weeds in a week or two later. So it's a constant process. Damian: I think this
conversation is proof that somebody can become smarter
in a half-hour conversation. Thank you, sir.
Gracias. I appreciate it.
