In 1966, Jesus Salas led the historic march of Mexican migrants from Wautoma to Madison in 1966, as part of organizing for Wisconsin’s first farmworker union. Salas went on to become a leader in Latinx community organizations in Milwaukee and Wisconsin, especially in the fight for the rights of Latinx students at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and at UW-Madison. His memoir, Obreros Unidos: The Roots and Legacy of the Farmworkers Movement, was published this spring by the Wisconsin Historical Society Press.
Salas’s story is an essential chapter in the history of Wisconsin and Milwaukee and mirrors the growth, progress and dreams of the Latinx community. His reflections speak to not only the importance of the Latinx community, but the need to build alliances across lines of race and gender and fulfill the promise of a multiracial democracy.
*The following conversation is condensed and edited for length and clarity.
Your story focuses on Mexican migrants in Wisconsin, but also the history of Mexicans along the borderlands of Texas. Why is that history of the borderlands so essential?
The history of Mexicans in Wisconsin reflects the history of this entire country. My grandfather was from the Mexican state of Coahuila, from indigenous lands whose borders were shaped by Texas separating from Mexico in 1836, and then the U.S-Mexican War in 1848. And migration was always part of the history of that borderlands region, depending on the vagaries of weather, water and jobs. After World War II, the migration from the Texas borderlands into the Great Lakes region began in earnest. For the next two generations my family migrated back and forth, spending winters in Crystal City, Texas, and then migrating when the crops — potatoes, cucumbers, tomatoes, corn and so forth — needed to be picked in the Midwest and Wisconsin. And when we organized the migrant farmworkers in Wisconsin, we followed lessons learned in Crystal City— for instance, that in a family-based workforce such as migrants, you organize not just individuals but the entire family and community.
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You were an essential leader in the Obreros Unidos effort to organize farmworkers in central Wisconsin. How did that come about?
The migrant workers in Wisconsin lived in overcrowded camps, worked in fields without sanitation and were paid less than the minimum wage. It was the 1960s, a time of activism, and we were inspired by the farmworkers movement in California. We marched 80 miles from Wautoma to Madison in 1966 to bring attention to these issues. Obreros Unidos won a union election in 1967, 405-8, the first farmworker election in Wisconsin, and the next year a guaranteed hourly wage. And, very important, we also won respect and dignity. But the farming industry was changing, forever, with automation — the use of herbicides and other advances that meant migrants were no longer essential for harvesting the crops. Through Obreros Unidos, however, we laid the foundation for organizing efforts in years to come, especially in the cities and at UW-Madison and UW-Milwaukee.
You moved to Milwaukee in 1968. Why?
As an outgrowth or organizing farmworkers in the Wautoma area, I had become involved in the grape boycott to support the California farmworkers organizing for a union. I moved to Milwaukee in 1968 because the boycott efforts were concentrated in the big cities. Also, displaced migrant workers were going to the cities in search of jobs.
I had been a farm boy all my life. When I came to Milwaukee, for the first time I met Puerto Ricans and Cubans, because all the people we had organized were folks from the borderlands of Texas and Mexico. It wasn’t until I got to Milwaukee that I saw the diversity of the Latino community.
In your book, you use the term apartheid to describe Crystal City, Texas. Why?
The city had poll taxes, disenfranchisement, and the 15% Anglo population controlled not just the politics but the economy. The Mexicans lived in a barrio with unpaved streets, segregated schools, and the Anglos lived in the upper part of the city, outside the flood plains. So socially, economically, politically, in terms of the schools, it was all deliberately segregated. That’s apartheid.
You also use the term to describe Milwaukee at that time.
When I came to Milwaukee, it was such a new experience for me. I ended up living on the East Side, to be closer to the picketing for the grape boycott along Downer Avenue and Capitol Drive. And that’s how I found out about Milwaukee’s apartheid. The Blacks lived on the North Side and didn’t cross over the North Avenue or Locust Street bridges. I never even saw an African American at Bradford Beach. There were these bridges and psychological barriers. It was the same darn thing on the South Side, and Mexicans rarely crossed over the Sixth Street viaduct. And you never saw anyone except white people on the East Side. This was also before the school desegregation lawsuit, so the schools were segregated.
Some people might say it’s not that different today. What do you think? Has there been any change?
You’ll see some African American families along the lakefront, especially on the Fourth of July. And shopping patterns have changed, especially with the malls. But the segregation in housing, that’s very firmly entrenched, especially with mortgages and banks and zoning and the way the housing market works. And you don’t see much discussion about segregation, whether in housing or schools.
What might it take to change that?
My generation thought we’d be the first to make that change, especially with the activism of people like Vel Phillips, Lloyd Barbee, Father Groppi. But these issues are so entrenched. And it takes a long time to make a change.
Look at the South Side, for instance. We started working on electing a Latino to the Legislature back in the 1970s. But because of gerrymandering, we didn’t elect the first Latino until 1998, Pedro Colon, almost 30 years later.
You bring up gerrymandering, and Wisconsin is known nationally for its gerrymandering. Do you consider that a mechanism of apartheid?
Well, it certainly is a system of keeping minority groups in their place and discouraging them from voting. It was poll taxes in the past, and today it’s voting restrictions and voting ID and gerrymandering. And look at [Donald] Trump and [Ron] DeSantis and the attacks on diversity. Even the Republican Legislature here in Wisconsin wants to hold the UW System hostage and defund them if they don’t get rid of diversity efforts. The Republican Party is publicly standing for policies that will take us back half a century. But at least it’s out in the open now. And people are realizing it’s not just race, but also women and gender issues. When I enrolled in UW-Madison graduate school in 1974, there were very few women in grad school and in the medicine and law schools. I mean, holy cow, Trump admits that he gets his biggest applause when he goes up against trans people.
But you know what I am really worried about? We don’t have the newspapers anymore, especially the smaller newspapers, or independent broadcasters. And books are being banned. People don’t have ways to find out about the issues. And I don’t think that’s going to get better.
So where do you find hope?
You just don’t give up. And we can’t forget that there have been gains. At UW-Milwaukee, there were only a handful of Latino students in 1968, and by 2022 it was 13%, with over 500 Latino graduates that year. And at UW-Madison, we have a Chican@/Latin@ Studies Program, working towards a department, a proposal made by a faculty committee 48 years ago.
Also, we got Janet [Protasiewicz] elected to the Wisconsin Supreme Court in April. People are going to go back to court with the gerrymandering issues and see if we can make some progress.
How has the Latinx community in Milwaukee changed?
One difference is that there’s now Venezuelans, Colombians, people from Central America and so forth. And the migration is massive. Anderson Cooper on CNN recently did this feature about migrants having to go through the jungles of Panama in order to reach the United States. My family had to go from Texas to Wisconsin, but that’s nothing in comparison to the hardship of the Panamanian jungle. I mean, there are children going through the jungles, and dying.
What hasn’t changed?
People migrate because they feel they have no choice and they want a better life, especially for their children. That’s always been true. And this whole notion of coming to a new society, a new language. People need support, no matter where they came from.
On the issue of language. What term do you prefer – Hispanic, Chicano, Mexican, Latinx?
My family comes from the Texas borderlands, and our identity was Chicano. On the Mexican side of the border, they would say we weren’t Mexican. On the other side, the Anglos certainly didn’t see us as white. We developed our own identity, Chicano. Here in Wisconsin we were seen as Mexicans, and I identify as Chicano and as Mexican.
What are the key issues facing Milwaukee’s Latinx community today?
Well, we have specific issues, such as the need for driver’s licenses for undocumented people, as well in-state tuition for our undocumented Wisconsin high school graduates. We had won the right to driver’s licenses in Wisconsin but then the Legislature took it away in 2007. And we missed an opportunity after the 2020 Census, which noted the dramatic increase to the Latino population in Milwaukee, to gain an additional seat in the Milwaukee Common Council.
A lot of the issues, however, are not particular to the Latino community — such as the right to vote. This issue includes the Anglo community, the African American community, poor people in general, who don’t turn out to vote as much as upper-income or middle-class people. The same is true with gender issues — those are important issues that cross lines of race and class. I mean, we have to be concerned with the betterment of all.
