This photographic series is being developed into a book titled Hard Living in the Big Easy: Immigrants & Photography of Post-Katrina Protests 2010 - 2019 with a 2020 Documentary Grant from the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Foundation This series is part of PhotoNOLA 2020 Cyber Exhibitions WE ARE HUMAN / SOMOS HUMANOS A Decade of Demonstrations from 2010 - 2019 José Torres-Tama Images of Public Protests & Photo Assemblages PhotoNOLA 2020 Zoom Live Artist's Talk: Saturday, February 27, 2021, 8pm-9pm (CST) Zoom Link Here Zoom Live Artist's Talk: Saturday, March 6, 2021, 8pm-9pm (CST) Zoom Link Here Virtual Exhibition Dec 9, 2020 - March 21, 2021
In July 2010, I began documenting the many public protests of the Congress of Day Laborers, the immigrant activists group in New Orleans. That July, they were protesting the mysterious death of José Nelson Reyes Zelaya, a twenty-eight year old El Salvadorian reconstruction worker who died within twenty-four hours of being in the custody of local Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) Agents. They said he committed suicide and offered no further evidence to his family or the local diplomats of the El Salvadorian Consulate.
The Day Laborers' leadership and their lawyers presented an ICE official with "Freedom of Information" legal petition papers, but to this day, there has been mo more information given because this agency operates with little oversight like a notorious U.S. secret police.
Immigrants have died and disappeared in the custody of local police and the brutal ICE Agents that operate across from City Hall on Poydras Street, but our mainstream media ignores their deaths and plight because the undocumented status of many marks them "as less than human."
El Congreso was founded post-Katrina to defend the human rights of thousands of Latin American reconstruction workers, who have contributed their sweat, labor, and love to rebirth of our city. Corrupt contractors and local businesses have exploited the undocumented status of many, and immigrants have experienced rampant wage theft, random incarcerations by local police, and brutal deportations separating families by ICE Agents in the fifteen years post-Katrina.
Such blatant abuse and labor exploitation of immigrants should come as no surprise in a city whose bloody history as a premiere port for the Slave Trade of African people will not be found in the tourist brochures for the so-called "Big Easy" party town.
Enslaved African men, women, and children were designated as "less than human" by French and Spanish Catholic colonizers and later by the Anglo Southern gentry who built the city's wealth on the backs of Black labor. The current reconstructed Crescent City has been built on the backs of immigrant laborers, but amnesia is so prevalent that our people are easily forgotten in the recent Tricentennial Anthology titled New Orleans & the World: 1718 to 2018.
Published in 2018 by the Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities, their heralded scholars have disappeared our people--as if we did not even exist. Their post-Katrina chapter titled "Renewal" offers not one word on our immigrant contribution to the resurrection of this city from it's critical condition--after the federal levees breached and the great flood that followed swallowed us into near decimation.
As an Ecuadorian immigrant making my home here for three decades plus, it's traumatic to bear witness to how easily we can be deported from history by white gatekeepers, who have the power and privilege to decide who merits being remembered and who can be discarded in unmarked graves for the forgotten.
Our Latin people have contributed to the epic rebirth of New Orleans, but it has been “hard living in the Big Easy” post-Katrina. Undocumented immigrants have done the heavy lifting for the past fifteen years, but continuously face deportations by ICE Agents. They struggle to remain in a city they have helped to rebuild.
From 2006 to 2011, I contributed commentaries that aired on NPR’s "Latino USA" news journal, and Maria Hinojosa, the award-winning journalist, introduced many of them that addressed the challenges immigrants have endured. For the 2010 5th anniversary of the storm, I contributed a piece titled Los Invisibles / The Invisible Ones, and it noted how immigrants have been rendered invisible while they were ubiquitous on reconstruction sites all over the city. Latino USA published my photos on their web site with the commentaries, and so has Syracuse University's Public: A Journal for Imagining America.
There is no other photographer in New Orleans that has dedicated the past ten years to documenting the public protests of our undocumented Latin American immigrants, and their "Live Art" manifestations are a testament to their valiant resistance to expose the many abuses that have besieged a hard-working people who have aided the rebirth of New Orleans.
In the spirit of Michael P. Smith’s work, who was drawn to the live street theater of a marginalized Black community, my images capture the street protest rituals of a neglected people with dramatic stills of immigrant children, workers, and their families demanding their dignity and human rights during this era of rampant anti-immigrant hysteria.
This dark episode of dehumanizing immigrants began with the Bush administration, continued with Obama and the three million he deported, and has reached inhumane heights with the cruel agent orange of chaos, who initiated his hateful campaign by making immigrants enemies of the state.
In the Latin American tradition, it's the job of the artist to speak the people's pain and document their history against the official lies of governments. My prime directive is to have my immigrant people remembered and honored for their contributions to our epic reconstruction and their heroic resistance to exploitation.