A Historical Snapshot of Latinx Student Activism from the 1960s to 1990s: A University Archival Analysis

Abstract

Spanish

The activism efforts of Latinx students from the 1960s to 1990s at Michigan State University preceded the current resources available to Latinxs on campus today. Guided by transformational resistance, university library archival sources are used to showcase various activism efforts demonstrated by these collegians. Some include a grape purchasing boycott, a sit-in, and a massive library book check-out protest, which all collectively played salient roles in the development of transformational changes for Latinx students. Recommendations from the findings are provided to advance future research and practice for institutional agents in working for and alongside student activists versus against them.

Keywords

Latinx college students activism resistance archives

Latinx student activism at Michigan State University (MSU) in the 1990s was the vehicle that paved the road for the educational programs, services, and resources that exist today. Several student activists made demands to senior administration at MSU, which helped bring various institutional changes. These collegians took part in various university and surrounding community activities in Michigan to bring awareness to Latinx collegians’ needs.

This document will describe the various ways Latinx students enrolled at MSU between the 1960s and 1990s used their agency in their activism efforts to advocate for Latinx-student-centered resources, which helped bring institutional changes. The scope of this document is limited to Latinx students at MSU. It does not address the holistic history of Latinx student activism in colleges and universities across the United States writ large; however, the paper adds to the existing literature on Latinx collegians’ essential advocacy efforts.

Terminology

It is important to note the different terms utilized in this paper. Chicano/a is an American born of Mexican parents. Puerto Ricans are born on or have family origins from the island of Puerto Rico. Cubans are born on or have family origins from the island of Cuba, and Hispanic is the United States government term that groups all Spanish-speaking people into one (Cole, 1994). Many of the historical documents and reports found from the MSU archives regarding Latinx students used the terms interchangeably unless otherwise noted (“Chicanos and Academic Processes,” 1977). Throughout the archival data, there is no consistency in terminology; therefore, I use the ethnic and cultural identifiers as they appear in the collected documents (e.g., Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, Chicanos/as).

Latinx is a person of Latin American origin or descent and is used as a gender-neutral or non-binary alternative to Latino or Latina (gendered in the Spanish language), which is more inclusive and humanizing to non-binary and genderqueer communities (deOnis, 2017; Ortiz, 2018). Although this term was developed in the 21st century before these collegians were enrolled at MSU, I use Latinx when referring to the collective community who have origins from Latin American countries. Historically, MSU did not desegregate their demographic data and currently continues grouping these communities as “Hispanic/Latino/a (of any race)” (Diversity at MSU, 2020). Since a more inclusive term was not yet developed, the organizations and individuals mentioned throughout this article are often gendered (i.e., Chicanos) and lumps all Latinx ethnic backgrounds together as such.

Methodology and Site

Archival and primary sources in research have been long encouraged in the archival community (Rockenbach, 2011). Patton (2002) notes that records, artifacts, documents, and archives “constitute a particularly rich source of information about many organizations and programs” (p. 293). In this paper, I use archival documents from a specific higher education institution, Michigan State University. Founded in 1855, MSU is a historically white institution (HWI), a land-grant, research-intensive, doctoral-granting university located in East Lansing, Michigan. According to MSU’s 2018 to 2019 diversity report, the student enrollment is approximately 50,000, with 75% identifying as white. Latinx students make up 5.7% (n = 2,524) of the population, and Latinx professors make up 4.7% of the faculty profile.

While collecting data, no records from the university archives could be checked-out. Over several months I spent approximately 50 hours in the central campus library archives reading, taking photos of selected archived documents, and writing memos of various pieces of data regarding Latinx students and their activism efforts between the 1960s and 1990s. I gathered most of the documents from the “Chicano/Latino Activism Collection” section of the library archives.

Guided by transformational resistance (Solórzano & Delgado Bernal, 2001), I collected relevant archival documents. Specifically, I gathered campus and community newspaper citings and brochures, which helped provide me with a better contextual understanding of the numerous ways Latinx students at MSU resisted the status quo and used their agency to advocate for various programs, services, and resources for themselves and future Latinx students. Newspaper citings and brochures were used as primary sources as they were the only pieces of data available to me regarding these collegians’ activism efforts. There were no other sources obtainable (e.g., video footage), as this timeframe precedes the era of cellular phones with cameras, advanced internet, and social media.

Transformational resistance centers on students holding “some level of awareness and critique of her or his oppressive conditions and structures of domination and must be at least somewhat motivated by a sense of social justice” (Solórzano & Delgado Bernal, 2001, p. 319). This framework allowed me to investigate further the resistance portrayed amongst the Latinx collegians at MSU as collective, political, conscious, and driven by the possibility of transformational social change on campus. I analyzed the archival documents via thematic analysis. First, deductive coding was employed, where codes were identified prior to analysis and then looked for within the data (Leech & Onwuegbuzie, 2008). Thus, I began from the “top-down” and identified parts of the data with my guiding framework in mind. I specifically identified and coded acts of resistance (e.g., protests and demands), critical and political consciousness (e.g., national farmworker labor exploitation), and social justice; moments of activism efforts that resulted in transformational campus-level changes for Latinx collegians. Lastly, from the coding scheme, I clustered commonalities in the codes to generate themes. This process was employed various times until a point of saturation (Fusch & Ness, 2015). The themes and data included in this article were chosen because they were the most pivotal moments frequently highlighted throughout the collected archival documents.

Brief History of Latinx Migration in Michigan

The first Mexicans arrived in Michigan in 1917 to work as apprentice engineers in the Ford automobile factories (Kraus, 1981). The number of Mexican laborers in Michigan grew after World War I, with many filtering into Saginaw, Flint, Pontiac, and Detroit (Badillo, 2003). By August of 1923, the number of Mexican im/migrants in the state estimated at 15,000–most of whom employed as laborers in the sugar beet fields (Kraus, 1981). Post-World War II, Puerto Ricans began to enter the state in large numbers as seasonal workers for corporate agricultural companies, typically in southeastern Michigan. Like Mexicans, Puerto Ricans first came to the Midwest as contract workers, but their U.S. citizenship allowed them greater ease of movement to and from their homeland. Analogous to the U.S. history of anti-im/migration writ large, Mexican agriculture workers in Michigan were known as “cheap, docile, and temporary laborers to be forgotten when no longer needed” (Badillo, 2003, p. 25).

In the 1950s, workers were paid an average of 55 cents per hour. There were allegations of numerous contract violations and the mistreatment of workers by the Michigan Sugar Cane Company. Soon after, Puerto Ricans left the sugar beet district in Michigan (Badillo, 2003). In the 1960s, Michigan employed the third-largest number of migrants nationwide (106,000). In the 1980s, many Puerto Ricans returned to Michigan and began working industrial and service jobs in Flint and Pontiac. Further, in the 1980s, approximately 4,000 Cuban refugees migrated from South Florida to reside in Michigan. Mexicans and Puerto Ricans were characterized as unskilled or semiskilled. In contrast, Cubans often were described as skilled and professional workers due to their “favorable reception offered by the U.S. government as well as their previous education, and professional training” (Badillo, 2003, p. 34). In the 1990s, many Latinxs migrated to the western parts of Michigan, and in 2000 there were 69,000 Latinxs reported living in Grand Rapids, with 17,000 identifying as Mexican.

Brief History of Latinx Students at MSU

The earliest recorded Latinx student presence at MSU was in the late 1960s when Latinxs were becoming more consciously attuned to the farmworkers’ struggle and began to take advantage of the various educational opportunities the university had to offer (“Chicano History Week,” 1982). In the late 1960s, MSU recognized that additional outreach efforts were warranted to recruit Latinx students. In December of 1970, the Office of Admissions hired the first Chicano/Latino Admissions Counselor, and in 1971, the first Chicano/Latino Financial Aid Counselor (“Chicano History Week,” 1982). Larger Michigan high school graduating classes and migrant outreach programs assured expanded enrollments for MSU and other higher education institutions in the state (“The Chicano/Hispanic Presence,” n.d.). According to the Registrar’s report for the fall of 1970, a total of 370 full-time students with Spanish surnames were enrolled at MSU—a considerable improvement just 2 years earlier in 1968, with a mere 100 in total (“MSU and the Chicano Community,” 1971). Before 1980, securing reliable data on the number of Latinxs in postsecondary institutions was problematic since federal and state governments did not create a census classification for “Hispanics” until the 1970s (MacDonald & Garcia, 2003). MSU was only able to determine their Latinx student enrollment numbers by reviewing “Spanish” sounding surnames.

In 1972, MSU began the Developmental Program for Admissions (DPA) for racially minoritized and economically neglected students who did not meet the regular admissions criteria; to provide an additional opportunity for access (“The Chicano/Hispanic Presence,” n.d.). In 1972, the DPA program helped recruit 16 Latinx students out of a total university enrollment of 308, and numbers decreased to five Latinx recruits in 1974 (Salas, 1974). Recognizing the lack of active efforts from university administrators to recruit and retain Latinx students, the wave of Latinx student activism began with some of the first admitted students at MSU. Daniel Soza, known to be one of the first Latinx students to be enrolled at MSU, along with his other Latinx identifying peers, decided to start their own recruitment efforts by going to Michigan high schools in Saginaw, Lansing, and Grand Rapids and targeted students they believed merited enrollment at MSU (Martinez, 1990). Daniel met with the university’s Director of Admissions and provided a list of students’ names for enrollment consideration the following academic year; every student listed was admitted to begin their collegiate career the next fall semester (Martinez, 1990). Soza and his peers’ student-self recruitment efforts are what started the Latinx student activism movement at MSU.

Latinx-based Student Activism Organizations at MSU

As more Latinxs enrolled in HWIs across the U.S. in the 1960s and 1970s, Latinx-based college student organizations gained prominence (Davis, 1997). They were developed mostly as a need to build social circles of support and advocate for an array of issues affecting their communities, such as civil rights and farm labor rights, in addition to added campus support services (Montelongo et al., 2015). Latinx student activism at MSU overwhelmingly accounted for subsequent programming, staff development, and curriculum changes (“Chicano History Week,” 1982). Specifically, Chicano student activism at the university dates back to the mid-1960s, with the first organizations being the Mexican American Youth Group (MAYO) and United Mexican American Students (UMAS). El Movimiento Estudiantil Chicano de Aztlan (MECha; “Aztlan Chicano Student Movement”) was formed in 1969 by Daniel Soza, Rosa Morales, and Juan Martinez; three students with a vision to serve as advocates for “Chicano student concerns” and recruit Latinxs to MSU (Davila, 1992; Martinez, 1990). MECha members searched the MSU student directory, contacted every person who appeared to have a Spanish-sounding surname, and invited them to a meeting (Martinez, 1990).

In July of 1973, Latinx student activists began the organization Chicano/Hispanic Student for Progressive Action (CHISPA), with a focus on academic enrichment programs, social and cultural activities, and outreach initiatives (“Chicano History Week,” 1982). CHISPA coordinated many different social and educational programs for Chicano/Latino students, including a Chicano orientation program and an annual Chicano-Latino resource guide. Similar to the Negro Motorist Green Book, which shared a roadmap of safe places to dine and rest while traveling during the Jim Crow-era (Green, 1940), this guide provided incoming Latinx students with information on resources and services at MSU and the surrounding university community (“Chicano Orientation Program,” 1975). In the late 1970s, with a need for a counterspace to organize and be their authentic selves, CHISPA members advocated for a cultural center on campus where Latinx students at MSU can congregate; today still known as “El Centro de La Raza,” (“Culturas De Las Razas Unidas Annual Report,” 2004–2005). In April of 1993, CHISPA members voted on a more inclusive name change, Culturas de las Razas Unidas (CRU), which translates to “Cultures of the United Peoples” (Wallen, 1993). The name change was especially crucial because the organization initially began as a Chicano student-based group; however, over time, it grew to represent other Latinx-oriented cultures and ethnic groups (Wallen, 1993).

In a supplemental report on equal opportunity and affirmative action from the Office of the Vice President for University Relations (MSU and the Chicano Community, 1971), MSU ranked first in absolute number and percent of Spanish-language surnamed students compared to other colleges and universities in the state. MECha members felt that the university was receiving favorable recognition from its constituents. Yet, the students themselves believed the university did not welcome them as equal members of the MSU community and lacked the services, programs, or holistic support needed to persist in college (Davila, 1992). The aforementioned collegians and student organizations’ advocacy efforts played a pivotal role in developing various recruitment efforts and the beginning of support services for Latinx students at MSU. Next, I will highlight how student activism efforts in the 1990s helped provide additional resources for Latinx students in the present day, which began with the protests to support the nationwide California table grape boycott.

Grapes Protest

In February of 1994, Latinx students at MSU delivered bags of grapes to (then) MSU President, M. Peter McPherson, labeled “pesticides kill people” (Haake, 1994a, p. 1). Over 100 students and community supporters protested outside of McPherson’s office in the administration building with signs. Latinx students and other supporters gathered in the MSU board of director’s office with McPherson in a 2-hour meeting. They demanded the university support the national boycott by not allowing non-union grapes to be purchased and made available to eat in university cafeterias (Harrison, 2001). These collegians also proposed additional demands at this meeting, including extending the 18-credit specialization to a full Chicano-Latino studies academic program. While ending the session with President McPherson, students threw grapes on the table. They smashed them after the President made statements such as “what kind of job will someone get with a Chicano-Latino studies degree?” (Haake, 1994b, p. 1), and that he needed time to look into the technicalities of the boycott.

Another demand presented was to rename Agriculture Hall to César Chávez Hall. The late César Chávez was known as the United Farm Workers of America Union’s father, who organized migrant farmworkers across the United States (Mariscal, 2004). MECha student leaders wanted the name change after the late advocate who dedicated his life to improving conditions for migrant workers (Cole, 1994). One MECha leader, Ernesto Todd Mireles, who is known to be one of the most vocal student activists in the 1990s at MSU, and (then) Chair of MECha, stated, “We just want Michigan State to recognize we’re here, too. This is an agriculture school. Much of the white farmer’s wealth is built on the backs of our [mostly Mexican] people” (Cole, 1994, p. 1).

In late February of 1994, President McPherson gave his formal response to the demands to boycott non-union table grapes, Agriculture Hall name change, and the implementation of a Chicano/Latino studies program. In the Centro de la Raza room, McPherson tabled the decision to support a nationwide boycott of California table grapes until the College of Agriculture conducted an investigation; to research the safety of grapes to consumers and perform a residue analysis on grapes used at MSU (Haake, 1994b). Further, McPherson denied the demand to rename Agriculture Hall to César Chávez Hall. According to a statement made by President McPherson, “the university does not name buildings or streets after national figures,” and “MSU has a long history of naming buildings and streets with people who’ve been associated with MSU or who’ve contributed to MSU” (Haake, 1994b, p. 1). The President also rejected the proposal for a Chicano/Latino studies program. However, McPherson stated the university would increase the number of courses offered through ethnic studies that focused on Chicano/Latino history and hiring more Chicano/Latino faculty (Haake, 1994c).

The students were not pleased with McPherson’s decision and proposal. According to Mireles, Latinx students at MSU were also not content with the decision to delay and not immediately support the grapes boycott (Haake, 1994c). A request for the university to immediately freeze any grapes’ purchasing was given to President McPherson by Mireles but was denied until the research and investigation concluded. Alternatives to renaming Agriculture Hall after César Chávez were both made by students and McPherson, with some suggestions including having a room named after Chávez, a reading hall in the main university library honoring Chávez, and a scholarship fund for Chicanos that MSU would contribute to (Haake, 1994c).

Almost 2 months after McPherson’s formal response indicating MSU was not immediately going to support the campus-wide grape boycott, MECha and CRU student leaders organized what was known at the time as “the most successful student protest in recent history” (Cole, 1994, p. 3). The protest included over 250 supporters from various higher education institutions in the state, including MSU, Wayne State University, University of Michigan, Central Michigan University, Eastern Michigan University, and Oakland Community College. The protesters marched by Agriculture Hall and the university administration building shouting statements indicating the need for MSU senior administration to support the national boycott. Soon after the protest, McPherson announced that due to the experts’ analysis of the investigation on grapes safety to consumers, the university officials did not support the national boycott on campus (Haake, 1994b). Mireles stated that the students were not satisfied with McPherson’s decision but accepted the university’s proposal for a $250,000 endowed scholarship fund over 5 years and a César Chávez reading room in the university’s main library that houses Chicano and Latino literature (Haake, 1994c; Hughes, 2000). The same year, due to the student activists’ efforts and other community leaders, the Lansing City Council accepted a proposal in September of 1994 to rename Grand Avenue to César Chávez Avenue in honor of the migrant rights activist (Pfeiffer, 1994).

Although President McPherson publicly announced MSU’s decision not to support the boycotting of grapes, student activists continued to organize and participate in different protests to win-over the support of senior administrative leadership in a campus-wide boycott. In February of 1996, six CRU members camped out in the Centro de la Raza room for a six-day hunger strike. During the hunger strike, one student was rushed to the hospital due to a diabetic attack, and upon his arrival back to campus, he refused to go off the strike (Harrison, 2001). To end the strike, President McPherson announced that individual residence halls could decide to serve non-union grapes or not, in addition to designating March 31st annually as “No Grapes Day” at MSU. The students accepted McPherson’s proposals, which concluded the hunger strike protest on campus (Harrison, 2001). However, the student activists did not overlook their demands a couple of years earlier regarding developing a Chicano/Latino studies program.

Chicano-Latino Studies, Greater Faculty/Staff Diversity, and Textbook Protest

After being denied a Chicano/Latino studies academic program in 1994, in February of 1998, three MECha students were arrested at a State of the University Address by President McPherson (Woodhams, 1998). These collegians attended the address and were arrested after making public statements such as, “Give us the Chicano studies program now, or are you afraid of an educated Chicano?” (Woodhams, 1998, p. 1). McPherson publicly responded with “Muchas gracias, maybe we can discuss this over cocktails” (Woodhams, 1998, p. 2). The President’s statement infuriated the students who continued shouting the demand for a Chicano/Latino studies program, resulting in the three aforementioned collegians’ arrests.

After the arrests, the student activists decided to take a different approach to have their voices heard. In February of 1999, MECha and CRU members began a peaceful protest by entering the main campus library with cardboard boxes and duffle bags and checked-out approximately 5,000 books, hauling them away in a U-Haul truck (Cloyd, 1999). The students involved stated their “needs have been ignored for long enough” (Sell, 1999a, p. 1) and promised not to return the books until equity for Hispanics was achieved (Cloyd, 1999). They acquired the books to send a message to the university administration that they were serious about demands for a Chicano/Latino studies program and the hiring of more racially and ethnically diverse faculty members (Tato, 1999). The peaceful protest’s reasoning was to show others what it is like to be denied information and knowledge on your own culture and history (Sell, 1999a). Soon after the book protest, the student activists met with then university Provost, Lou Anna Simon (who later became MSU’s President from 2005 to 2018), and proposed four demands. The demands included: (1) A tenured director of the Chicano-Latino studies program, (2) Two new tenured Chicano-Latino faculty members, (3) A 23-credit specialization in Chicano/Latino studies housed under Interdisciplinary Studies, and (4) A written response to the demands from administration by March 16, 1999 (Sell, 1999a). Marcelina Trevino, an MSU senior and co-chair of MECha at the time, stated, “Chicano self-determination is achievable through Chicano studies. It is what we want, it is what we demand, and it is what is rightfully ours” (Schutz, 1999).

A week after the book protest, 15 students entered the MSU administration building and changed their racial designations from Chicano/Latino to white, an initiative called “Operation Zero” (Schutz, 1999). Student leaders from MECha and CRU changed their racial designations because they helped the university appear more diverse for affirmative action purposes; one student stating, “It does not mean anything to us, we don’t benefit” (Schutz, 1999). MECha and CRU members did not want their presence in “numbers,” benefiting a university that did not allow them to study their heritage (Sell, 1999b). Although Operation Zero only involved 15 people who changed their racial category to white, these collegians substantially impacted the institution’s enrollment numbers. Adelita Garcia, one of the students who participated in Operation Zero, stated that MSU only had 300 Chicano-Latino registered collegians at the university; that even if only ten students changed their designations, the university’s percentages would suffer in the “diversity” statistics collected by the state of Michigan (Sell, 1999b).

After 5 months of meetings and negotiations, university administrators agreed to accommodate MECha and CRU student leaders’ new demands. In July of 1999, MSU’s senior administration also agreed to expand the existing Chicano/Latino studies specialization in the College of Social Sciences from an 18-credit specialization to 20 credits (Terlep, 1999). Two additional courses centering Chicano/Latino studies were added, and three new Chicano/Latino faculty members were hired (Terlep, 1999). Although the students remained unsatisfied because the President did not approve the proposal of a newly designed program, they still accepted the compromise from Provost Lou Anna Simon with confidence that the university was beginning to move forward in their social justice concerns. Even after a compromise was made, the students who changed their ethnicity on university records to white continued to resist and did not revert (McCoy, 1999). One member of MECha stated that her race “. . .will remain as White as a symbolic protest until I see a Chicano-Latino program initiated” (McCoy, 1999, p. 2).

Recommendations for Research and Practice

The findings emphasized in this article carry implications for future research and practice. As exemplified throughout this investigation, Latinx students at MSU, and beyond, have worked diligently to enact transformational changes on their campuses, inserting their strength, knowledge, and communal support to create and demand space for their beautiful bodies on campus. It is imperative to learn and understand the detailed history of college student activism at individual institutions. Future research can include engaging in archival data collection methods to learn how Latinx students have participated in advocacy efforts on various campuses–including those with diverse ethnicities, nationalities, and legal statuses–and how these efforts aided with the formation of numerous services and resources. Better understanding how specific policies, resources, and practices have shifted as a result of these activism efforts can assist researchers with approaching studies alongside these student communities from an asset-oriented lens (Santa-Ramirez, 2021), shedding light on Latinx collegians’ agency, power, and strength as they persist in racialized higher education organizations (Ray, 2019).

Moreover, in addition to university archival data, researchers can use various forms of “21st-century” methods since college students today are engaging in more innovative ways to advocate for issues of concerns, such as through blogs and social media videos and posts (e.g., hashtags #BlackLivesMatter, #HomeIsHere, #MeToo, and #ConcernedStudents1950; Common & Galvez, 2020). Engaging with and gathering data via these platforms can assist with what has transpired in the past and how collegians across the nation at various institutional types continue to do hard work and heart work (Santa-Ramirez, 2021) to best support others with analogous backgrounds and lived experiences.

Latinx student activists, their agency, and leadership efforts should be validated and seen as an added value to the campus community (Santa-Ramirez, 2021; Santa-Ramirez et al., 2022) versus being positioned from a “troublesome” or “problematic” lens, as they often are. As Common and Galvez (2020) stated in their critical article centering working alongside student activists, higher education and student affairs (HESA) institutional agents must be proactive and not continue finding ways to simply “manage” student activism and unrest—as this positioning undermines societal and institutional systemic issues that must be confronted. Furthermore, HESA administrators must put money and resources in place of institutional responses of support, as actions speak louder than words (Santa-Ramirez, 2021). The Latinx student activists highlighted throughout this paper demanded more than enrollment access to their institution. These collegians worked diligently for representation in campus building names (i.e., Agriculture Hall name change to César Chávez Hall), access to Latinx-based books, academic programs that build awareness of their contributions to society and celebrates their rich histories (i.e., a Chicano-Latino Studies program), and greater representation within the student, faculty, and staff makeup.

Representative consciousness is vital for HESA professionals when planning and implementing social and academic programs, enrolling new students, hiring new faculty and staff, and so forth. Excluding specific communities, even unintentionally, can be detrimental to the students whom we aim to serve. Working toward culturally engaging campus environments (i.e., cultural familiarity, culturally relevant knowledge, cultural community service, opportunities for meaningful cross-cultural engagement, collectivist cultural orientations, culturally validating and humanized educational environments, proactive philosophies, and availability of holistic support; Museus, 2014) is warranted, where Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) students–which Latinxs fall under each category–writ large can not only survive but thrive. One suggestion is to involve currently enrolled Latinx students (including those who also share intersectional identities, such as queer and undocu/DACAmented) and alumni on advisory committees (and paying them for their labor). Another recommendation for HESA administrators to consider when considering how to work alongside activists and not against them is to hire consultants and featured keynote speakers who are BIPOC activists. Challenging the status quo to embrace and normalize activism (i.e., as a form of civic engagement) and activist actions (Common & Galvez, 2020) employed by Latinx collegians is warranted. This is especially salient as our campuses are becoming increasingly more diverse, moving beyond the exclusionary history of higher education solely for white men.

Conclusion

Latinx-based student organizations have provided “a rich legacy of activism, community service, advocacy, and naturally, leadership development” (Davis, 1997, p. 231). As a result of the exclusionary campus climate and lack of holistic support for Latinx students’ advancement, these collegians’ activism efforts at MSU since the 60s have helped develop and assist with additional resources and support of Latinx students. As highlighted throughout this paper, Latinx student activists at MSU utilized various strategies to fight for equity and access to enrollment, support services, knowledge, and history of Latinx cultures. The students had concerns about the lack of representation in Chicano/Latino faculty and administration staff, Mireles once stating “Every one of the multicultural directors is Black, and that effectively leads up to Brown exclusion” (Sell, 1999a, p. 1). Today, the Office of Cultural and Academic Transitions (OCAT) coordinators at MSU represent diverse racial and ethnic classifications to serve better all Black, Indigenous, and students of Color enrolled at the university.

As previously stated, the advocacy efforts in the 1990s established by members of MECha, CHISPA, and CRU (i.e., the grape boycott, library book check-out, and Chicano/Latino studies program protests) have aided in the development of additional resources and services to Latinx students, faculty, and staff. Such aids and services include an undergraduate minor, a graduate certificate, and a Doctor of Philosophy (Ph.D.) program in Chicano/Latino Studies (Chicano/Latino Studies, n.d.). Latinx students, faculty, and staff can now check out books focusing on Latinx history and issues from the César Chávez section of the university’s main library. Furthermore, there is an annual No Grapes Day to honor farmworkers and resist the harm and exploitation of these workers’ labor, a city street name change to César Chávez, and more Latinx faculty hiring. Referencing the activism efforts of Latinx students at MSU in the 1990s, Mireles stated, “I will maintain to this day that that was a pivotal moment in student activism at Michigan State” (Harrison, 2001, p. 3).

These courageous collegians resisted the status quo of being represented as less-than or othered on campus. Often feeling pushed to the margins in society and at their respective institution, these student activists used their agency and employed their agency and transformational resistance (Solórzano & Delgado Bernal, 2001) to enact positive changes for Latinxs writ large. Like many U.S. colleges and universities, MSU has increased its Latinx student enrollment in the last ten years (3.5%–5.7%; LaRocca, 2020) but still has a long road ahead to meet the needs of their Latinx students better. Although progress has been made since the 1990s, many current Latinx collegians enrolled at MSU still feel underrepresented in the student and faculty makeup at the undergraduate and graduate-levels (LaRocca, 2020). The analysis of Latinx student history at MSU has proven that they have fought and paved the way for the opportunities currently available, with much more progress for today’s students to keep the Latinx community’s strength.

Footnotes

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

ORCID iD

Stephen Santa-Ramirez

Author Biography

Stephen Santa-Ramirez (he/him) is currently an Assistant Professor of Higher Education at the University at Buffalo. His personal and professional experiences in higher education – and identity as a scholar-activist – have played formative roles in developing his research agenda. Writ large, his scholarship investigates campus racial climate, first-generation students’ sense of belonging, college student activism, and the various ways race, ethnicity, and im/migration inform Latinx collegians’ educational experiences.

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