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By Joe Arney
Photos by Jack Moody (StratComm’24)

The study of communication, as José G. Izaguirre III knows, is more than just interpreting the words. It’s also about how those words are heard—in a speech or an article, or in a post or on a poster.

It’s why he leans so heavily on showing communication in its original form, whether in the classes he teaches at CMCI or in a new book examining the formation of the Chicano movement.

“As I was analyzing these different texts, I was just struck by the intentionality to make things look a certain way, which really enriched the communication I was studying,” said Izaguirre, assistant professor of communication at the college, who goes by Joe. “It was clear that those aesthetics were part of the story, too—the degree to which photography, illustrations and designs played a significant role in movements.”

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Izaguirre’s book, , traces the beginning of the movement—which originated among striking farm workers in California—through its early years. His research examines the communications that organized Latin American voices into a global political power.

“The book highlights how race is always implicated in different political circumstances—while demonstrating that however much we try to get away from the language of race, it’s always there,” he said. “I tried to show the inescapability of race as a part of communication through a story about how Mexican Americans navigated racial dynamics and promoted a racial identity.”

A good example: “Chicano,” once a pejorative label, was itself reclaimed by the organization as it rejected assimilation and sought to assert its Indigenous roots. But while the movement united under one banner, it was never a singular voice. Izaguirre’s book shows how activists created a political power against the backdrop of the Cold War.

“I think the book highlights the importance of everyday activist movements, or even politically interested individuals who have concerns that are part of a broader community or communal concern,” he said. “It takes seriously these moments of everyday communication and spotlights them in ways that are maybe not typical.”

“Everyday communication” in the 1960s was, of course, very different than today, when demonstrations largely exist and are communicated in ephemeral digital spaces—what’s trending today is tomorrow’s relic. Much of Izaguirre’s source material was donated documents—leaflets, photos, newspapers and so on—that made this project possible.��

It’s how he was able to present so many period pieces in his book, alongside close readings of iconic artifacts like the National Farm Worker Association’s El Plan de Delano, or the poem “I Am Joaquin.” And there is value, he said, in seeing how those pieces are designed, even if it’s text-based, like the Delano document, co-written by Cesar Chavez, to guide their march through California. It contains a list of demands and concerns that, Izaguirre said, are valuable to see in their original context—and language.��

Another level of engagement

“When I show these materials in classes, I want to show that communication as close as possible to what it would have been like to encounter it at the time,” whether that’s a picture, a pamphlet or a speech, he said. “I wouldn’t call it an epiphany, but there’s some level of understanding that happens when I show them the whole document. Because it’s not just text pulled out of somewhere—it’s communication they can see for themselves.”��

That also means students encounter the original communication in its original language. For much of La Raza, of course, that’s Spanish.��

“I do show them an English version, so they understand the meaning of the words, but seeing it in its native language, they get almost the emotion of the words,” Izaguirre said. “Seeing the original document puts it in that cultural or historical context.”����

It’s something he hopes readers and students consider in the context of modern political movements, from the iconography at campaign rallies to how people find one another and organize digitally. But he also hopes those readers will be challenged to rethink the narrative that movements—or communities—can be viewed singularly. The Chicano movement is a prime example.��

“It can be harmful, to see communities being labeled in such a way that they’re cast as the opposition,” he said. “It’s easy to consolidate groups and label them as friend or foe. What’s harder is politics—which is really about building partnerships and opportunities for equal engagement.

“What I hope the book shows is that it is possible for different people to come together around similar concerns, articulate different visions, but still try to work together to accomplish something good.”