Resistance to oppression and erasure for marginalized peoples can be powerfully fueled by “graphic reclamations,” as the Foreword by Frederick Luis Aldama calls works like Henry Barajas’ vital “La Voz de M.A.Y.O.” from Image Comics.
The new “La Voz De M.A.Y.O: TATA RAMBO,” written by Henry Barajas, renders a history of the Mexican, American, Yaqui, and Others (MAYO) activist organization of Tucson, Arizona and its co-founder, Ramón Jaurique, as they fought for recognition and rights for the indigenous Yaqui community. Jaurique, known colloquially as “Tata Rambo,” was a WWII veteran, Latinx and Native American rights leader, and Barajas’s great-grandfather. By applying the stirring iconography and narrative richness of comics to oral and documentary history, Barajas, along with artist J. Gonzo and letterer Bernardo Brice, edited by Claire Napier and El Anderson, offer a complex and human portrait of not only Tata Rambo but the broader contexts and conflicts–and sometimes costs– of social movements. As such, it’s art that refuses for the power of resistance to be obscured and forgotten.
With candor and vision, Barajas tells the story of MAYO and Tata Rambo, and he brings the same candor and vision to speaking with us about “La Voz de M.A.Y.O.” and comics.
This is a very personal story for you. What was the creation process like for you once you decided you were doing this project?
Henry Barajas: Depression. I lost my job as a writer at the Tucson Weekly. I cashed out my 401K and lived off that for a year. I was freelance writing for food and small news blogs when I realized I wrote about everything else except my myself and where I came from. I started writing my great-grandfather’s biography when I got John Lewis’ “March.” The experience pouring over the pages reminded me that my first love is comics, and Ramon’s story would lend well with pictures and words.
J. Gonzo’s illustrations really capture the feel of the desert Southwest, from the strength of the linework reflecting the resiliency of the people who have lived there for generations to the earthy color scheme. How did he get involved in the project?
HB: I was working with a friend on “La Voz De MAYO” but his style didn’t really suit the project. My boss at Top Cow Productions, Matt Hawkins, was interested in what I was doing and asked to see a pitch for “La Voz De MAYO.” He told me, “I’ll help you make this but you need to get Gonzo to draw it.” I had that ah-ha moment. I knew J. Gonzo for a while and we were always looking for an excuse to work with one another, but he always seems too busy. I called him moments after meeting with Matt and Gonzo was on board. It happens in a day. It’s funny how things worked. My whole reading life I always wanted to publish a comic with Image and it happened in less than four hours.
But, yes, Gonzo brings a level of detail and passion for this project that no one else would’ve. He was able to pick up on the themes I was highlighting in my scripts, but he always went a step forward. He would use his color palettes and storytelling to show the reader that much more, and I will always be forever grateful for the justice he has given my story and my family’s legacy.
Ramon, like many of us, lived a complicated life with personal and professional strengths and imperfections that he brought to the table. How important was it for you to portray your great-grandfather as the complex person that he was?
HB: Growing up you’re fed the same narrative when it comes to cis-male political activists. They’re always God-fearing religious folks that didn’t do anything wrong except rattle some cages. It’s not until you go to college or do some independent reading when you find out that MLK cheated on his wife and Gandhi slept with underage girls to test his celibacy. I was a journalist for two years and it was always important for me to be transparent and ask the difficult questions. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I wasn’t honest with myself and my art even if it was at the expense of my family’s legacy.
Continued belowRamon is no longer with us, so he never got to see the finished story. What was the last thing you were able to share with him? How has the rest of your family who have seen “La Voz de M.A.Y.O.” responded to it?
HB: Ramon was proud of what he and MAYO accomplished. I think he would’ve appreciated seeing his colleagues drawn in a comic book style. At the end of the day I had to do this for myself. I wouldn’t have cared if he liked it or not because I never did it for his satisfaction. I did it because it was important to not only the history books to recognize Ramon but the community at large.
Besides being inspired to write a graphic novel about him, in what ways do you think your life has been affected by the life Ramon led? Does his legacy continue through you, and if so, in what ways?
HB: I like to look at this comic book as a sign of counter protest. TUSD (Tuscon Unified School District) tried to abolish the hispanic studies program that would prohibit books like mine in classrooms. It’s important to let Latinx & Native Americans see this whitewashed history for themselves.
Throughout the story, you mention that your great-grandfather’s and M.A.Y.O.’s work in protecting Yaqui land from the Tucson City Council goes unacknowledged in historical accounts of that era. Why do you think that’s the case?
HB: POC are told to not speak their native tongue. Their culture is often mocked but it’s appropriated and exploited in film and television. I don’t know why MAYO and Ramon weren’t included in the history books, but consider “La Voz” an amendment.
In what ways are you still seeing the voices of BIPOCs being hidden or erased, in either historical or current conversations about identity, land and/or civil rights?
HB: The classic example is Dolores Huerta. She co-founded the United Farm Workers Movement and coined the refrain “Si Se Puede” but all the credit goes to Cesar Chavez. She has been beaten nearly to death for protesting against George Bush Sr., and still in the shadows. It happens in our art and culture relevance. It’s only OK to be Latinx or Native unless the colonizer says so.
What role do graphic novels play, and your graphic novel specifically, in beginning to shed light on the ways BIPOC are reclaiming their rights?
HB: Graphic novels are more manageable and less costly than films and television. It’s cheaper to buy a comic than subscribe to a streaming service. Libraries are becoming more keen on the importance of comics and graphic novels, so thank god for them. Librarians are the most vocal about looking for POC & LGBTQIA+ creators and stories.
There are more and more stories focusing Latinx and Indigenous communities being published these days, but still not nearly enough to accurately reflect the current US population. What does it mean to you as a creator to be adding to this growing body of really essential works? What does it mean for readers?
HB: I’ve had publishers ask me “why don’t Latinx books sell?” My response is always “well, how many Latinx books did you publish this year?” The sad reality is that Latinx & Native Americans are never considered to work at places like DC & Marvel. I doubt I will ever live long enough to see a Native American write Captain America. It’s a shame that publishers don’t take chances on people like me.
What are some takeaways, if any, you hope readers have after reading Ramon’s story?
HB: I hope they ask their elders questions. I know it’s going to be hard at first but it will surprise you at how much life your grandparents lived and what they had to go through for you to enjoy the privileges we take for granted.
If you’re free to talk about upcoming projects, can we expect to see the stories of any other prominent Latinx leaders from you in the foreseeable future?
HB: I’m working on a Latinx fantasy and superhero series. Depending on which project gets picked up, I’m actively writing a true crime series about a serial killer from my hometown with Michael Macropolis.
We’ll look forward to those! Thanks for speaking with us about your great-grandfather, comics and politics, and “La Voz de M.A.Y.O.” What a powerful book!
