Thoughts on Remembering Marcelo Lucero

Saturday, November 7th was the one year anniversary of Marcelo Lucero's death. He was murdered by seven Patchogue High School Students for being of a different color. They beat him and they stabbed him during one of their weekly "beaner jumping" outings.

Vigil in Memory of Marcelo Lucero: by Rose Zacchi

On my way to the vigil in memory of Marcelo Lucero, I first saw the flashing lights of police cars. Then I saw the crowd. There were many reporters, cameras, children and people standing together, in the cold, with a wish for peace. A little girl came up to me and asked if I wanted a poster that she made. She told me it was for free. The poster said, “Love, not hate.” There was a huge peace sign on the ground, made of rose petals and candles. Music played, “Give Peace a Chance.” There were speakers from the community, Marcelo’s family, and musicians that wrote songs in his memory. The most touching part for me was when Marcelo’s mother came up and spoke. Her words were translated, as she told us she did not feel revenge. She is a remarkably forgiving woman, after losing her son in such a violent way;

I watched her while she sat and listened to the speakers. At one point she was crying; with tears streaming down her face. It was cold outside tonight, and someone was buttoning up her coat, but the cold didn’t seem to bother her. Then Joselo spoke, Marcelo’s brother. He, like his mother, is very forgiving. We could all learn something from Joselo; he is able to take such a tragedy and use it to give people hope. Hope for peace, love and a better community. Hope that we can live together without discrimination. I am not as hopeful as this remarkable family. I don’t have as much faith in people, as they do, but I did feel the love tonight. After the speakers and music, a candlelit procession to the church for a memorial service.

Expanded Thoughts: by JonSTeps

Marcelo's is not a singular hate crime. In Suffolk County hate like this has been a routinely growing trend against populations of immigrants. People are attacked constantly and more often then not the attackers are lead by, or in no small way encouraged by, those in power.

Saturday’s vigil was a reminder of this Climate of Fear. Police surrounded the crowd, minutemen and tea baggers came to spill their filth and the media ran crazy to suck up every drop of it.

There is a growing need for Solidarity in our communities, to prevent these actions, to overcome those that wish us harm. To do so is no easy feat, there's a strength in standing ones ground, in standing up for what you believe is right and this strength is something the Lucero family showed us all.

Poem in Memory of Marcelo Lucero: by Monica Wendel

Marcelo Lucero 1971-2008

You were not my brother, but you were someone’s brother.
When the mayor opens his mouth to say your name
I see his breath in the air. Blood on asphalt let loose steam
into November, backlit by the lights of the train station
the humming of wire and tracks. That was the soundtrack
to your death, and your mother’s name echoing in your skull
as you called to her – no children of your own – a niece, yes,
to her you were like a father, she said. She said this to the candles
and to the crowd, to the podium and the microphone. She spoke
standing on the street where you died, belt off, buckle facing
the gang that surrounded you with one knife and fourteen
fists. Who died that night? Indians falling into the chasms of sugar plantations,
the dried sweat of laborers never paid for their work
who breathe in the fumes of chlorinated crystal-clear swimming pools
and the gas of lawnmowers. Your body is flat like a map
in Ecuador but bits of hair and fingernails, bone and blood,
refuse to be buried under the gravel of one small town.