At 11 a.m. on May 1, I headed over to the Garment District in Manhattan to cover a tiny part of the "Day Without Immigrants." The Garment District is the core of a huge industry, and a full third of the nation's garments are designed and created in this part of New York City. As WikiPedia tells us, "The neighborhood is home to the warehouses and workshops of the fashion industry," and "The fashion industry is the largest single contributor to the city's manufacturing sector."

Nationwide, the streets were filled with 1.1 million demonstrators, according to the Associated Press. Other sources put it at 1.5 million. The area I covered was only one city block between 40th and 41st street, and the action comprised of roughly 200 people. The weather was clear, and the day warm.

I've covered events with video or photography for "artistic" purposes, but this was the first time I planned to cover an event as a "reporter." I am not a reporter. Not in the job-market sense of the word. I think of myself as a writer, or an artist, usually. And when it comes to actions, or marches, I generally think of myself as more of a potential participant. Not a "reporter." But the subject matter was important to me, and I thought I would get a little closer to the issue and try to help communicate a piece of it for others. Or perhaps just add to my own experience.

I did my best to document the event, and to take notes. I did my best to get a feel from the outside. But it was difficult to be so removed. Instead of letting a feeling swell in my heart, adding my voice to the chorus, or encouraging my fellows in their efforts, I was trying not to drop my wide angle lens, while I juggled with my memory cards, and reloaded my film camera. Though I wasn't completely separated from the energy of the day. I was wearing my Mexico shirt and a pin that read "I LOVE IMMIGRANT NEW YORK." So if my bias wasn't clear from the start, there it is for you.

According to the Human Chain listing that I downloaded from the Village Voice's website, there were actions all over the city of New York on Monday. I chose the Garment District event, because while I knew that there would be a very photogenic and bustling crowd marching up Broadway, or gathering in Union Square, I was made curious by the idea of a "Human Chain" among "Garment District factory workers," which is how Sherry Kane of UNITE HERE! described it to me over the phone. In this instance, it meant about 200 (brown, dark brown, and pink) people standing from the corner of 40th and 7th Avenue to 41st and 7th, facing the street, holding signs, and chanting in support of Immigrant New Yorkers, immigrant workers, and illegal aliens. The event began at 12:16, a reflection of the date on which HR 4437 was passed in Congress, by a vote of 239 - 182.

One demonstrator held a sign that said "We Love America, But Hate HR 4437! It's awful! It's a shame!" Another woman's hand-drawn sign had the words "We Are America Now!" in four different languages. Cheering, laughing, and chanting were immigrants, their friends, and in one or two instances, family. They all clearly believed strongly in what they were doing, even though many were initially apprehensive about being photographed. In the beginning, the tension shows clearly in my earlier photographs. One woman, perhaps in her fifties, laughed upon seeing her friend stiffen in response to the cameras. "Today's not the day to be camera shy, dear!" she said to the woman next to her.

But I could see why some of these people might be afraid. On April 10 of this year, a nationwide demonstration took everyone but the Latino community by surprise, filling the streets in Los Angeles to overflowing (as well as in many other cities around the country) as demonstrators marched in larger numbers than were mobilized against the Vietnam war, to show their disapproval of HR 4437, which would "amend the Immigration and Nationality Act to strengthen enforcement of the immigration laws, to enhance border security, and for other purposes." Purposes such as declaring about 11 million people felons , as well as anyone who has helped them in any way at all. The marches were massive, and online and in print, it was impossible not to note a noticeable recoiling to the sight of "mexican flags waving in the street" as well as the sheer numbers of Latinos ready to stand in solidarity with each other. Some Spanish-speaking radio DJs noted this "backlash," and fearful of hurting their own cause, advised the Latino community not to skip out of work, or walk out of school. Others felt it was the only way to show unity and support for the cause.

The police car, and pair of officers police present at my specific location stood facing the crowd, hands on hips. I guess I felt it might have been more sensitive to send police who were not pink-skinned (one with a shaved head) to face the line of brown faces, but I'm sure that wasn't intentional. Not everyone thinks so much about these things. I did not used to. I did see brown police on the block, but they were manning the corner booth, and not visible. These officers I speak of directly faced the wall of standing demonstrators.

I definitely did not understand the presence of what appeared to be Secret Service next to the police. They, too, faced the line of demonstrators as if there were to be some sort of confrontation. I didn't know for a fact that that they were FBI, or Secret Service. I only know the men wore striking, dark suits, had coiled-up wires dangling from their ears, sunglasses, a special pin on their tie, and very severe and rigid postures. One was Caucasian, and one was African-American, but both had matching shaved heads. If it were a movie, they definitely would have been Secret Service.

Because these suited men intrigued me so, I asked one of the officers who they were, but I was ignored. I then asked one of the men directly, but he only nodded and said "How ya doin'." He kept his hands and fingers interlocked at his waist in a strange, purposeful configuration which reminded me of gang members who make sure to show their affiliation whenever photographed or threatened. I asked him if he was "stackin'" as I flashed a psuedo-Crips sign (I am not a gang member, nor have I ever been one. This sign I flashed probably did nothing but signify my affiliation with the "Live Long and Prosper" group, but it was a comic offering, anyway.) The shiny-headed, tight-browed man seemed flustered at my happy question. I guess I was not supposed to talk to him. And of course, nothing makes a fear-monger more flustered than bald laughter. (Just ask Sir Stephen Colbert.)

One of the uniformed police quickly huddled with the intense, ear-wired fellow, turning his back to me, and standing between us. All at once, the Secret Service-type man and his cohort strode off toward 7th Avenue. I snapped a pic of their unified backs because I found them so fascinating. I still don't know what purpose they served standing and facing the crowd, aside to introduce an element of intimidation. They didn't come back, so I guess their role was not compromised by where they were standing on that day.

Some people walking by the line of demonstrators shouted their own message to the cameras, and to those holding signs. I watched one man, who happened to be Caucasian, making his point clear with two, short punchy words. "No Amnesty!" he barked at the short, elderly woman with the oversized "Unite Here!" hat on her head. "NO AMNESTY!" he shouted to the TV camera tracking his gaze. "No Amnesty," he said to me, as he walked by.

"If we are to live together in peace, we must come to know each other better."

Lyndon Baines Johnson, 36th President of the United States

The crowd of workers and supporters stood proud, although at times, hesitantly. Not all people walking by uttered disparaging remarks. In fact, that one man was the only one I personally heard do so. As I said in my last article, and first part of this pair, it is the minority of people who want to alienate (pardon the pun) and criminalize the immigrant population. Most of us are either related, more tolerant, or have a different view of America than the Minutemen and Lou Dobbs. At least in my anecdotal experience.

Some walking by the Human Chain joined in with the chants of the demonstrators, with voluntary rounds of ¡Sí Se Puede!, or "A Country United Is a Country Undivided!" I also heard "What do We Want? Immigrant Rights! When Do We Want Them? Now!" I moved in closer to record some of these chants, and at first, when I raised my voice recorder, the effect produced was for the chanters to quiet, suddenly. I motioned that I wanted them to continue as before, and they did.

This tint of apprehension kept announcing itself to me throughout the day.

I hope even those who sneer at the thought of allowing these human beings our own laws and protections can understand the courage it took for these people to do what they did. I know many don't. Even people I consider very pleasant acquaintances of mine sometimes seemed completely oblivious to the plight of these people, their reasons for marching, or how it could do any good to force "many businesses across the country to all but shut down for the day because their workers have simply skipped to go march in their local cities that day," as Dave G. (an online acquaintance of mine), wrote in his blog. "In a more personal way, I dislike this march for one very simple reason--it incredibly inconveniences me," he goes on to say. He bolsters his argument with complaints about the parking, the noise, and his personal indignant non-understanding of why White people should not get marches, too, yet ought to suffer "all of the "celebrations" of "black pride," "brown pride," and all of these other things..."

Dave and I did have a long conversation about our ethnicities, our thoughts on the issue, and finally Civil Disobedience. I told him why I felt you cannot agree to a "Free Speech Zone," or announce your protests (as he wanted the Latinos to have done more than they did), and why that would nullify the effect completely. We did come around, I hope, to an understanding of why "these people" matter, and what it might feel like, all 'round, if we tried to view things a bit more expansively. I don't know if we ended up agreeing. But we ended it with very civil and thoughtful words, and open energy. And that made me happy. I don't plan to encourage any hate, and so I won't even quote the easily-referenced hate mails and posts I have at my fingertips that were far less civil than that conversation. As I said in Part 1, I think much of this racism I encounter lately is simply fear, or even just non-thought. Laziness and knee-jerk reaction. I know I am not at my best, during my knee-jerk reactions. I would offer other the chance to rethink theirs.

Standing in a line, to be photographed holding a sign announcing their villainous intention to join the ranks of legal Americans is a huge act of bravery. Leaving their job to show their support and to demonstrate what economic power and contribution they have is a very courageous act. Some know they may lose their jobs. But they are willing to sacrifice for the larger ideas of America. Most of these people encounter a condescending or racist attitude one or more times in a day. They have often been trained to feel as if they have no right in this culture, to be proud or vocal in such a way. Yet, they feel they are doing good things here; they are proud of their motives, and their contribution, and they want to be a visible part of the country they help support.

"Everyone in the world smiles in the same language."

Mexican-American Proverb

This courage and pride, to me, is a part of the strongest part of this Nation. This passion for unity, and will to action is the heart of what I was taught America should be. This is the same courage and will to self-actualization that fueled the original patriots on their drive to escape tyranny, or so I was taught by the schools of my youth. Today, I am told that actions like the Boston Tea Party are, without a doubt, terrorist acts. Today the Monarchy would never stand for such rejection of Tyranny or anything else. We know that the American government spies on peace activists because they perceive them to be a threat to the War on Terror. Perhaps it only makes sense that these demonstrations are also viewed as threats, in that light. However, I see them as a logical and beautiful expression of the human spirit, and one that America ought to encourage.

One demonstrator, "J.T. ", who was standing in solidarity of one of the local Unions told me he thought that the illegal aliens currently in the country "should be allowed to stay."

"They've made it this far," He continued. "They do contribute, and I hope today's events show that." The giant Needle and Button statue that stands at the foot of the World Apparel Center punctuated his words, as did the audible chants of We Are America! on the happy faces of the crowd around us.