Civic Duties Who: Dante Ruiz and Kitty Davenport What: Rallying for the Cause When: Saturday, March 9th, late morning/early afternoon Where: Boyle Heights Rating: PG
Soda. That was what he had decided to give up in observance of Lent. It was a decision that Dante came to which was motivated either by guilt over his feigned devotion, or a last sparking ember of dedication to a faith that had helped shape his life for so long. He wasn’t sure which was the true reason, although he was also equally willing to admit that he had no strong desire to find the answer to that question. Carbonated drinks didn’t really have a strong presence in his life, although there were plenty of times that he was prone to drinking a Sprite. Coke products were his usual preference. Might have had something to do with those commercials he saw where Selena endorsed them. Maybe. Or maybe he just liked those Polar Bear commercials. Both were plausible.
Dante had arrived to Boyle Heights earlier in the morning. He wasn’t the type of person who could sleep in that much. He wanted to be, but his internal clock was always forcing him awake, and his attempts at falling back asleep were often met with a certain degree of futility, much to his chagrin. He drove his car to his grandparents’ home, where he parked and spent a little bit of time with his family. Marisa was there, although she was not anywhere near the morning person that her son was. Despite eating at home, Imelda made sure that she shoved a little food down Dante’s throat. Not literally, of course. It was his own fault, he should have known better than to eat at home, knowing that he was going to show up at the house in the morning.
The Ruiz family home was not that far from the location where the rally was going to take place. Barely a 20 minute walk, if that. Admittedly, it might have been a little bit more of a walk to people who didn’t know the area, but Dante was not one of those people. Boyle Heights was an area that he could always claim a very, very strong amount of familiarity with. He knew where to go if he wanted to cut through a block or two, where fences had long been ripped apart, creating passageways that only locals knew.
While he was walking, Dante was caught in his own thoughts, thinking about the reason for the rally. Supernatural rights had never been that far from the surface, but Trump’s reign of terror had basically helped them flare up. It went without saying that East L.A. had an undeniable Supernatural presence, but Dante usually found himself on the fringe of it growing up. To his knowledge, Catholic school wouldn’t have turned away witches, werewolves and the like, but, at the same time, if some of his classmates happened to be more than human, they kept it close to the vest. It really wasn’t until college where Dante found himself around a larger amount of them. He had always done his best to keep an open mind about everyone, allowing them to be judged by their actions as opposed to any preconceived notions that might have been formed over the years. After all, being second-guessed simply because of biology was something that Dante had dealt with for so long that it might as well have been tattooed on his forehead. He tried to live his life in a way that did not promote hypocrisy whenever possible, although he knew that he wasn’t nearly as successful at avoiding that particular pitfall as he would have cared to admit.
His empathy for Supernatural individuals was always present, but had been increased since the President opted to make generalizations about the character of Mexicans. Words that offered a buffet to the small-minded people who ate it up without a second thought. Displays of those words turned into tangible acts of hate weren’t uncommon, despite the strong Latin presence in East L.A. It was like the people who believed those words were emboldened by them. Dante may have tried his hardest to not let those actions impact him, even in an indirect manner, but that challenge was a struggle.
Dante’s attire was less formal than what he was wearing when he was at the church earlier in the week. It was more akin to what he would wear on a normal work day. He made it a point to be presentable whenever he went to a rally or protest, instead of wearing a basic t-shirt and baseball cap, although he was fond of that look. Instead, he was wearing slacks and a long sleeved shirt. Deep blue, like the color of the sky in the middle of the night. Still, he wore sneakers, because only a fool wouldn’t wear some comfortable footwear when they planned on walking a lot. The outfit was finished off with a jacket. The day was supposed to stay cool and overcast, according to weather forecasts. That was good. He’d gladly partake in something that was important to him when it was raining, but that wasn’t his preference.
As he made his way closer to the center where everyone was going to meet up, he knew he was inching closer to the heart of Boyle Heights, as opposed to the residential neighborhoods. There were more people out and about. Mostly brown. Mostly some form of Latin. Predominantly sharing his Mexican heritage. Cars that drove by had various flags adorned somewhere on the vehicle. People showed their culture on their person, be it on their t-shirt, tattooed on their body, or in some other way. Dante stood out in one form or another, knowingly finding himself on the receiving end of a few lingering glances. It was a common occurrence, to be sure, but it was never one that Dante felt he could ever find himself truly comfortable dealing with.
Finally, the trek ended and he was among the masses who shared his thoughts and opinions. A few of the people were familiar, much like at the Church. The need to frequently assemble in an attempt to quell the fires of hate had created something that was almost akin to a congregation. Was this cause supplanting the teachings of his upbringing in the spiritual real estate that Dante had amassed inside of his soul? Maybe… but that was a question for another day. Instead, he wanted to stay focused on the task at hand.