(The following is the introduction to the pamphlet Raíz Fuerte que no se Arranca, which pays homage to the life of Magdalena Mora. This pamphlet was produced in 1981 by Editorial Prensa Sembradora, Inc.)

Writing this introduction was both an honor and a challenge. An honor because Magdalena affected the lives of so many people; a challenge because by now everything that could, and perhaps should, be said about Magdalena has been said. This little pamphlet was produced as an honor to her memory and example. It was prepared as a labor of love by friends who want very much to see other Magdalenas among our youth. In these lines I will afford myself the pleasure of saying those things about Magdalena which those who knew her only in academic or political life have a right to know.

She was a woman... not only because she espoused women's rights, but more importantly because she embodied that combination of tenderness and strength that always seems to elude men.

She was a compañera... not only because we shared organizational affiliation, but because she understood that helping another Mexicano was her historical duty. Her loyalty and self-sacrifice will never be forgotten, and someday repaid. She enjoyed being called a comrade or compañera, especially by those she admired for their talent and dedication.

She was a Mexicana... and yet she was the most ardent Chicana I ever met. She embodied the key to that enigma of whether we are Mexicans or Chicanos; in reality an enigma based either on unforgivable ignorance or distorted self-hatred. Undeniably Mexican, Maggie would fight for her right to carry the Chicano banner of struggle. She flowed like water in either pond.

She was a socialist... not because she proclaimed herself that, but because she agonized over her failures at overcoming individualist habits which keep us apart as human beings. She hated symbolic interaction. For her, ritual and ceremony should be honest expressions of unity, and collectivity was not only a goal but a salvation.

She was a worker... not only because she worked in the canneries and fields of California, but because to her dying day, she agonized over the abuse of working people of all races, and the degradation of their labor.

She was a philosopher... not because she enjoyed struggling with new ideas and concepts, but because she never forgot that ideas not materialized for the benefit of those in need and unfree, are useless.

She was an organizer... not only because she was successful as a notable example of Latinas in trade union struggles, but because she was always thinking of ways to harness the energy and talent of compañeros into something in which they could excel, and at the same time serve the people.

She was very human... not only because she obviously had emotions most of us do not like to admit having, but because she hated indignities to the human intelligence. She shared sorrow and pain for the hunger and poverty in the world, but she hated most the cynical efficiency of those who design and control a world that allows it.

She was a good daughter... not only because she tried always to help the collective of five brothers and two strong parents who heroically brought their children out of the poverty of rural México and into the best universities in this country, but because she learned to truly appreciate her parents while they were still alive, a lesson for many today.

She fought for life... not only because she was a vibrant young woman struck down in her intellectual and physical prime, but because she understood that we have reached a stage in this country when all people are fighting for life - against pollution, environmental abuse, and careless disposal practices. In her two-year bout with diagnosed brain cancer, she fought back with using all of nature's weapons and learned of the strength in nature's food before corporate man gets a hold of it.

Finally, she was a friend... not only because she was among those you most wanted to be around and trust, but because when harsh words or deeds separated you, she was anxious, often even willing to show it, to make-up and go on.

The irony is that Maggie could have been any one of us, anyone with big ideas and a life's commitment to fulfill them. But, how many of us have those qualities? She did something about her ideas with fierce determination and that is what set her apart from others, little else. She had the same faults you and I may have, and she failed at least as often. But she always got up again. In short, she gave it all, and who could ask for more?

Carlos Vásquez
Los Angeles, California
August 4, 1981