Esperanza v. City of San Antonio: Politics, Power, and Culture

Frontiers, 2003 by Kastely, Amy

The next witness, Esperanza Executive Director Graciela Sanchez, identified herself as a lesbian and a woman who had grown up working class in San Antonio's Westside barrio. Graciela used numerous Spanish words as she testified about the work of Esperanza, speaking in a bilingual weave that is familiar among Chicanos in San Antonio. Judge Garcia listened closely, and the courtroom filled with the power of Spanish spoken openly, without translation, in the formal atmosphere of federal court. The audience was completely silent in recognition of the moment. Sanchez testified to the judge and to her family, friends, and allies. The determined, engaged presence of community members was essential as a testament to that moment.

Later in the trial, the crowded courtroom witnessed as Mayor Peak testified to his belief that art and politics are necessarily distinct. When asked whether a program like MujerArtes, in which low-income women learn to tell their stories through the art of ceramics, is a "political" program, Peak responded that it could be, "depending on the program and what the purpose is, and what the people are that go through that program."22 At that moment, a collective gasp arose from the back of the courtroom as members of the community reacted to the unexamined racism in the mayor's statement.

With members of the Esperanza community present for the trial, the focus on issues of cultural integrity and genuine cultural diversity remained at the center of the legal strategy. And the visible interest of community members in the lawsuit brought home to the judge the importance of the case. Following the trial and months of careful thought and research, Judge Garcia issued an eighty-five-page decision in favor of Esperanza, finding that the city had violated the First and Fourteenth Amendments of the United States Constitution, as well as the Texas Open Meetings Act. The Judge ordered the city to refrain from favoring or disfavoring grant recipients on the basis of their views on culture and cultural diversity, and required the city to compensate Esperanza for lost funding.

There is an alchemy to rights, as Patricia Williams teachs.23 The concept and content of rights is nothing more than a manifestation of political power-a slogan invented by one European group in struggle with another.24 Yet when communities use the concept and commit to the belief that they, too, are entitled, the obtuse logic of law can sometimes benefit the less powerful. If people believe that their cultural practices should be respected and protected by city government, if people yearn for a vital, liberating cultural diversity despite the multifaceted pressures of assimilation and accommodation, then legal decision-makers may begin to recognize and protect these values and activities.

Alchemy happened in the Todos Somos Esperanza campaign. Liberating cultural diversity existed for moments at Esperanza and other community-based venues. It is glimpsed in honest public discussions. In the Esperanza case, a place was found within First Amendment law that could protect and engender cultural rights. As we come to see the importance of culture in our lives, we grow closer to Indigenous peoples throughout the world who are fighting for cultural and political autonomy. Within international law, a human right of cultural integrity is increasingly recognized. This right requires that the cultural identities of minority groups be preserved and developed and that nations support the economic, social, political, and cultural institutions necessary to ensure the survival of minority groups.25