Adela Mancias oral history

  • ETHAN WALJE: All right, Good Morning. This is  Ethan Walje and Adela Mancias, and we are here  
  • on February 27, 2021, and it is 12:06 PM. Adela,  do you give me permission for me to record this  
  • interview on behalf of the Austin History Center? ADELA MANCIAS: Yes. 
  • WALJE: Okay, thank you. Um, could  you state and spell your name? 
  • MANCIAS: Adela Mancias. M-A-—Oh I lost you. WALJE: Oh. 
  • MANCIAS: M-A-N-C-I-A-S. I lost video. WALJE: Oh, you did? 
  • MANCIAS: Uh—huh. WALJE: Okay, let's see.  
  • Um, it says mine is on. Can you see me now? MANCIAS: No. 
  • WALJE: Hmm. MANCIAS: I can hear you fine, but I can’t see you. 
  • WALJE: Okay. Uh, let me try stopping  it and starting it again here. 
  • MANCIAS: Can you see me? WALJE: Yes, I can see you. 
  • MANCIAS: Hmm. WALJE: Um, huh. What does—what  
  • does your screen look like right now? MANCIAS: Uh, it’s a white screen:  
  • “Login with Google” “Launch Zoom”. WALJE: Oh, um, at the bottom of your screen,  
  • do you see, like, the little—it  may have just minimized the window.  
  • Do you see the little Zoom symbol? Maybe  you could click it and bring it back up.
  • MANCIAS: The little Zoom symbol.  
  • Down here? Where’s the— WALJE: Maybe. 
  • MANCIAS: There we go. Oh, okay. WALJE: Okay, can you see me now? 
  • MANCIAS: I can see you. WALJE: All right, awesome. 
  • MANCIAS: I don’t know what that was. WALJE: (laughs) Okay. Um, all right,  
  • so we’ll begin with just a pretty  simple question, I guess. Um,  
  • where were you born, and how were you raised? MANCIAS: I’m glad we’re starting with that one.  
  • I was, um, I think context, history and context  are important to explain how people got there. Um,  
  • I was born in Plain View, Texas which is in  the Panhandle. It’s kind of like, you know,  
  • between Amarillo and Lubbock up there. And, um,  how was I raised? My family—my grandparents and  
  • parents were migrant workers way back when.  You know, my grandfather had done ranching,  
  • and then they did farming—migrant  farming. And they moved around.  
  • They moved out of the valley which is where—my  grandparents were born in Mexico, but my parents  
  • were born in the Valley. At that time, it was  a very porous border, and people came and went.  
  • And they were both born there. Eventually—they  would migrate across, but eventually, they  
  • just settled in Plain View. My grandfather  bought—bought a little plot of land—what  
  • was available and what he could afford on really,  really meager raises—I mean his salary that  
  • they paid. They paid, from what I could figure—I  figured out one time—they got paid like 30 cents  
  • an hour for working in the fields. Eventually,  my dad broke out. He learned to weld.  
  • And he still worked in rural areas, but he moved  around more because he did, like, irrigation. But  
  • the thing about that is, like, all those little  towns were—you know, the Mexican-American people  
  • that lived there—some of them were Mexican.  It was also during the bracero era when I  
  • was growing up. The bracero era, I believe, was  like from the mid—30s to like mid—60s. And so,  
  • there was a lot of displacing Mexican-American  people with, you know, with the bracero—with  
  • people from Mexico, many from Mexico. And it was  basically because they paid them hardly anything  
  • even though they were supposed to pay him some  money. All this I’ve learned since. I didn’t know.  
  • I had no idea back then. And that’s kind of like  my story is—it was real hard not to be clueless  
  • because we just lived, and we just, you  know—there was a lot of discrimination  
  • and a lot of what was obvious racism. But I  didn’t know the word. I only knew the feeling  
  • that came with it. My parents never said,  “Oh, you know, this is racist. This is—".  
  • No, they just, you know, they just worked.  And they worked as hard as they could. And  
  • when my dad started moving around, we  would go to other little rural places:  
  • like we lived in Kansas for a little bit because  he was doing some irrigation pipe welding there.  
  • But everywhere we went, there was  always some experience I would have  
  • that kind of ground this feeling of—. Okay, like  for example, we would go once a year to visit  
  • family in the Valley from the Plain View to  the Valley. And I remember it was a long—okay,  
  • just imagine going from the Panhandle all  the way down to the very, very tip of Texas,  
  • which is what we would—(trails off). WALJE: That’s a long trip. 
  • MANCIAS: That’s a long trip. And  back—this was like back in the late 50s,  
  • maybe very early 60s, but mostly late 50s. And  we would stop and get gas, but we couldn’t go to  
  • the bathroom. And one time I did. I mean,  it’s like I needed to go to the bathroom.  
  • And my dad had just gotten gas. And the guy in  the garage said, you know, “Yeah?” And I said,  
  • I’m just going to use the bathroom. He says, “You  can’t use the bathroom.” And I just kind of looked  
  • at him, and he said, you know, “Mexicans can’t use  the bathroom.” And it just kind of like—boom. I  
  • was [like], Okay. You know, when a kid first  hears that, and you’re not aware of that—I  
  • mean, you know, we were growing up really, really  poor, but I wasn’t aware of that. In the schools,  
  • it was in the schools, but because we just kind  of, like, all hung around together and everything,  
  • we just didn’t know it. The only thing about  that is we couldn’t speak Spanish even though  
  • that’s the only language we knew at the time,  and you were punished for that. But again,  
  • you don’t see that as an injustice. We didn’t  know that word. It was just pile—on—pile—on. 
  • WALJE: (Speaking at same time) Right. MANCIAS: Things started kind of just  
  • looking that way. I had a couple of friends  that were not Mexican-Americans. I had, like,  
  • a couple little white friends. We were  pretty close. And I remember one time we were  
  • going to, like, race across the monkey bars. And I  got in line with my friends. They were my friends.  
  • And the kid next to me, or behind me  said, “You can’t be in this line.”  
  • And I said, Well, why not? And he said, “Because  that’s the Mexican line over there.” And that was,  
  • you know—you would just hear stuff like this. WALJE: Yeah. 
  • MANCIAS: And it didn’t really change. Some  teachers had the same experience. We went to—.  
  • My dad eventually got a job in—around the  Conroe area, in a ranch around the Conroe  
  • area. Then he was doing ranching; he wasn’t doing  farming. And same experience—you know—teachers  
  • would do the same thing. One teacher—this was in  Montgomery County. So this was kind of like the—if  
  • you know anything about that area—Washington  on the Brazos—it was in that area.  
  • Because we moved from Conroe to West Columbia.  And it was kind of like the very seat of the  
  • first Texas government, and those people  were—like, they celebrated Texas independence like  
  • nobody’s business. And there weren’t a lot of us.  There weren’t a lot of Mexicans—Mexican-Americans.  
  • There were quite a few African Americans, and  they were treated even worse. And I think the  
  • only reason we weren’t treated any worse is  because there weren’t that many of us. But I  
  • remember sitting—it was middle school—I  remember sitting in class—one teacher.  
  • And, like I said, I was the only  one that was Mexican there. And she  
  • was doing some lesson—I don’t even know  what the lesson was. But she said, “And  
  • if you people ever go to Mexico, you will meet  real Mexicans that have money and have good homes.  
  • It’s not like the Mexicans here—you know like  the dirty Mexicans around here that you see here.  
  • They have, like, these doorknobs that are made out  of real gold,” and it was—(trails off). And I was  
  • already older; I was in middle school. And it was  just like this—I just felt myself start getting  
  • hot. And it was anger, and it was shame. And all  these feelings just were going in, but I didn’t  
  • have any way to express them to anybody because  nobody understood it. Nobody talked about that. 
  • WALJE: There wasn’t really an outlet. MANCIAS: No, and I didn’t really know what it was.  
  • And—but I had my friends and got through it,  and at some point just figured out I was going  
  • to—when I graduated I was going  to go to school somewhere.  
  • At first, I went to Texas Women’s  University. My dad was very  
  • traditional and protective and didn’t want  me to go to a school where there were any  
  • men, so Texas Women’s University first year.  And then second year, I decided I’d try my hand  
  • at—at the time it was at Southwest Texas. And the  next year, it was Austin. I just, you know, I had  
  • kind of just gotten a little more independent  just by getting away from home. And it was 1974,  
  • and I came to Austin. And I didn’t  come to school. I just got a job.  
  • And I started working for the  state. And I worked for a year.
  • WALJE: (Speaking at same time)  What did you do for the state? 
  • MANCIAS: I was a clerk typist. As a matter of  fact, when I came to look for a job—I came to  
  • look for a job in January—I decided—. I was in  school; I was a journalism major when I started  
  • because I liked to write; I liked to do that  sort of thing, so I was a journalism major.  
  • And I would be writing in the newspapers for  TW and for Southwest Texas. I wrote in their  
  • newspapers—their school newspapers. And somehow  it was like I was starting to get a little bit  
  • just—it wasn’t what I wanted. And so I  decided to think about it before I went on.  
  • But I wanted to go to Austin and just  think about it there, so I came here,  
  • and I got a job. And the savings—. WALJE: (Speaking at same time) When  
  • you mentioned—oh, I’m sorry. When you mentioned  you were typing for some—or you were writing  
  • for some of these school papers, was  this before, like, Para La Gente or—? 
  • MANCIAS: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. This was while I  was still in school. I had just started school.  
  • And so yeah, so this was in my journalism  classes and I was writing. And so,  
  • when I got to Austin it was called, it was  called the merit system council and that’s  
  • who I was working for and that’s who I  applied. I came in and they had told me  
  • that I could apply to the merit system council  and get a state job. They in fact hired me.  
  • To this day I cannot type. WALJE: I can’t either. 
  • MANCIAS: (laughs) I’m a horrible typist—I didn’t  advance much but, they kept me on. And I worked  
  • there for probably, maybe about a year and  then, um, I decided I need to go back to school.  
  • No. That’s not what happened. My roommate from,  um, because there was a little place in there.  
  • My roommate from Texas State graduated  and moved to Austin and she was a teacher,  
  • and I was still working for the state, and that  whole year that I was working for the state I  
  • was looking for something to do, and I—I—I wasn’t  a social person I wasn’t going out or anything.  
  • I had some friends but I needed something  to do I wanted—and I lived across the street  
  • from the state school—the state, the uh,  the state hospital actually and I just  
  • went and I started doing volunteer work and I  would, and, and that whole year and I worked  
  • in the state—and then I worked in the state  school and started doing volunteer work there.  
  • I just wanted to do something. I felt  a need to do something. And so um,  
  • after, after a year my friend from Texas  State moved here and she said “Look,  
  • you know, come to this school where I’m working  and um, there are jobs where you don’t have to  
  • have a degree yet. There are jobs that you can  do where you are just working with kids, and  
  • helping them out. So, I went and I applied  and I got the job. It was a middle school.  
  • And I did and I uh, she and I became roommates and  we were working—worked with these kids that were  
  • the most at risk kids there were.  They, you know, they went out and uh,  
  • they weren’t doing well in school. They were  getting in trouble, and uh, I just—it was in  
  • East Austin. They were all Mexican  American kids—it was at Martin Junior High.  
  • And they were trouble. But I  started tutoring them after school  
  • and working with them on weekends. She and I  both—my roommate and I both. And I just, you know,  
  • started going, okay, this is what I really want  to do. I really want to work with kids. I really  
  • want to, you know, because I saw a change in their  attitudes, um, I saw a change in a lot of things.  
  • And then I decided to go back to school. I though,  ok well I’m going to go back and get my degree.  
  • And so I went to UT and this was in about, ok,  I went back to UT in about, um, maybe 1976.  
  • Something like that. I came to Austin in 1974,  you know, went through a couple of jobs, worked  
  • with the kids, then I went to UT in 1974 and  that’s when things really started making sense.  
  • I took a class—it was Chicano studies with Armando  Gutierrez [who] was my professor. And, you know,  
  • he started talking about things that I had never  heard anybody mention about discrimination and  
  • about the history of Texas and about how the land  was stolen and about how people, um, you know,  
  • all these things that I had—that I had felt  and knew all along since I was growing up all  
  • of a sudden it had a name for that. There was a  reason all of it was happening. And all that, um,  
  • you know, pain and shame and everything just  bubbled over and I thought okay, this is where  
  • I really need to be doing. So I went and I talked  to him and I said I want to get involved—what are  
  • you doing—what can I do something? And he was  one of the leaders of Raza Unida at the time.  
  • Raza Unida was a third party and I don’t  know if you know anything about it but it  
  • was a third party and um, at the time, they were  running a governor—um, a person for governor, and  
  • uh, doing a lot of voter registration, and they  had the state newspaper right there at UT—that’s  
  • where it was. And so he said, “Go see if uh, well  what can you do?” And I said well, I don’t know. I  
  • can write. And he said, “Well see what you can  at the newspaper.” And so I went and I started  
  • working with Para la Gente. I wrote a couple  of articles. And they just started asking me to  
  • write and the issues at the time for the  party were migrant worker issue and police  
  • brutality issues. There were a lot of police  brutality cases going around in the state  
  • and um, and so they just asked me to do some  stories on that. And I started doing that and  
  • eventually it went in to doing—just doing more  work for the party. And so, we would go to  
  • different rural places, like, in South  Texas—Carrizo Springs, Crystal City, Uvalde—all  
  • those little places and we would do door to door  voter registration. Me with people helping them  
  • to do their own organizing. And so I learned  about community organizing through all that.  
  • And we do marches, and, you know, we—and all this  was new knowledge for me but I was learning as  
  • I did it and I was really into it. And then the  editor for the paper graduated and so they asked  
  • me if I wanted to do that. And this was still  within that year—within about a year and a half  
  • that I’d been doing that. And so I was editor  of Para la Gente and wrote and then one day,  
  • we decided to news on—kind of like—local issues,  what was going on in Austin—not just state wide.  
  • And so I came to a meeting—I went to a meeting  in East Austin. And at the time it was, uh,  
  • they were all meeting about the boat race—the  boat races—I don’t know if you know anything  
  • about that. Uh, it was um, Fiesta Garden annually  do boat races. About three weeks out of the year.  
  • It was real damaging to the— WALJE: Three weeks? 
  • MANCIAS: Yeah. Weekends WALJE: I didn’t realize  
  • it was that long. Oh three weekends. MANCIAS: At the beginning. Weekends, yeah. 
  • WALJE: I thought it was just a, one event, one  event a year. I didn’t realize it was that long. 
  • MANCIAS: Well, it went down to that, but then  you know, they continued that but it used to be  
  • like three weekends. WALJE: Wow. 
  • MANCIAS: Yeah, so they would—they would, they  were meeting and planning council meetings to  
  • go to city council to protest and so I went  to cover for Para la Gente and started getting  
  • more and more involved with the issues and it  was like, wow, this is really close to home.  
  • And so um, I started working there and eventually  I once again stopped—I was only going to school  
  • part time and I put it aside for a while and  I decided to do this more. At the— by then,  
  • the whole Raza Unida thing, uh, the races were  over. José Ángel—who was the leader—was uh,  
  • he’d gotten into some trouble and Ramsey Muñiz who  was running for governor had gotten into some—it  
  • was political, and it was a self—inflicted  wound and uh, and so, it just kind of  
  • stopped. And I left and I came and I started  working in East Austin. I started working in  
  • East Austin. And doing kind of the same things. I  started—there was a newspaper but it was kind of  
  • sporadic and it was just kind of like, you know,  kind of people—whoever could write it—there was  
  • a couple of women who wrote in it and they were  very good—they were very dedicated but just about  
  • anybody could come in and do an article—which was  good but there wasn’t a sense of, um, okay how do  
  • you reach your audience? How do you get them to  read it because there was a lot of like—you know,  
  • so I started kind of like working with that.  And, uh, that paper was called La Conciencia  
  • and started putting that out. It wasn’t a weekly.  It was a whenever we could get it out and um,  
  • and there was a group called the Brown Berets  and they were like the um, more, um, militant  
  • arm of the whole community organizing structure.  But they were doing the work. They were doing the  
  • footwork. And organizing protests and organizing  demonstrations and having meetings with people.  
  • I mean there was a lot of criticism because  
  • not everybody was on board—not everybody  in the community was on board but  
  • a lot of people were and nothing else was  going on. And at that time the boat races  
  • were going on we had, we had, some, some meetings  about that and then the final one the finally  
  • happened when it was the last one was when people  were beaten and uh—severely—arrested and beaten.  
  • And it was, you know, and that was the last boat  race. They didn’t have them anymore after that.  
  • And I continued to work with, you know, what I was  doing because there were other issues. At the time  
  • this would be like, in the um—let me see I wrote  down some dates because I knew I would forget.  
  • Um, yeah, this was like at the beginning.  
  • The 1980s, like the late 1970s,  1978 I think was the last boat race. 
  • WALJE: Ok MANCIAS:  
  • Around the 1980s there started to be  a lot of interest, uh, speculation,  
  • around East Austin and there was some pretty,  you know, wise people that kind of knew what  
  • was going on. They um, they figured out—because  what was going on in other places in the country  
  • what was, uh—it was the beginning of  gentrification but nobody used that  
  • word—we didn’t know that word we just  knew that people were coming in and um,  
  • and there was some downtown interests,  uh, downtown revitalization.  
  • And you know, as you know, downtown is adjacent  to the East Austin neighborhood and uh, but people  
  • were looking beyond downtown because other places  were starting to get gentrified and Austin was  
  • starting to go that way too. So we started, you  know, again, organizing and that direction and  
  • just telling people, let’s look at our community,  let’s see what’s been going on and see if um,  
  • if we can’t bring improvements and also, try to  um, you couldn’t tell people—you can’t tell people  
  • of something that’s going to happen that they  can’t imagine—you know, what’s going to happen.  
  • But what we were trying to do is get people  interested in the community and sort of, like, get  
  • a sense of power over the—over the— over their own  community. Like for example on East 3rd Street,  
  • there’s a bunch of condos and all kinds of  shops and things that, you know, that go  
  • East 3rd Street and to the railroad tracks and,  you know, 4th and 5th. And all that used to be  
  • a huge junkyard. It was just, like, scrap  metal and um, people couldn’t get loans for  
  • houses you know like to—if they wanted to fix  their house, their house, because you know,  
  • they bought their house 40 years ago and they  need to do something to it—they couldn’t get  
  • a loan for it. They wouldn’t loan them any  money. The banks would not loan them any money.  
  • So um, even if they could afford it they couldn’t  do anything. So houses were starting to just get  
  • kind of, like, more decrepit and uh, they  were places because the zoning at the time  
  • was mixed industrial zoning. That had been a  blanket zoned—zoning that had happened, um, way  
  • back in the 1930s I believe that they  just blanket zoned the whole neighborhood  
  • and so, they didn’t have the residential zoning  that they needed for this. And so we started  
  • talking about, ok we need to get rezoning.  We need to do the things that it takes to  
  • be able to revitalize our own neighborhood that  other people coming in here that are starting to  
  • do that for us. And then also, we’ll start losing  control of that. So, we started organizing there,  
  • and, uh, and I did that for you know, the next  two or three years. That’s where I—and I wasn’t,  
  • of course, the only one doing it—it was a group  of people doing it, but I did join the Berets. 
  • WALJE: I was wondering, was the Brown Berets  the ones involved there? With organizing, like,  
  • the zoning laws and stuff like that? MANCIAS: Yes. Yes—well it was partly  
  • Brown Berets. The Brown Berets were doing a lot  of the organizing and I did join that organization  
  • but there were a lot of like, just community  people, older people, that became very  
  • supportive—and leaders themselves and they were  the true leaders of the community. We helped  
  • because members of the Brown Berets knew how to  organize. I knew how to organize. I had learned  
  • that from my experiences doing other things and  so, like, but, we were helping people—and that was  
  • one of our main purposes is like—we didn’t want to  be the leaders. We wanted people that lived there  
  • that were, you know, or at least—a lot  of the Brown Berets did live there. But  
  • like, I didn’t just want to go in and become like  a leader for them. So I joined these groups and we  
  • would have meetings and really just help people  learn how to do it. And they did. And that were  
  • five organizations that sprung up. I believe  it was four or five—let me see. East Town  
  • Lake Citizens was one. And that had its own little  territory. The Rainey Street Neighborhood—that  
  • fought hard, but of course it was the first  to go. And there was the Govalle Neighborhood.  
  • That’s still in existence—that’s still working.  And I think the East Town Lake Citizens is also  
  • still, um, still going on. And then there was the  Buena Vista. Buena Vista was just a little bit  
  • further east and south of the little, uh, of East  Town Lake Citizens. So in each one of those little  
  • areas had their own leaders and they went out and  they organized their own part of the neighborhood.  
  • And we did it like, um, we would do flyers. You  know, I worked with, you know, like, I would teach  
  • people to do flyers, going door to door, getting  kids involved, having council meetings. We’d learn  
  • and we’d prep people—so that when you go to the  council meeting you stand what you do this—this  
  • is your message. So it was that sort of thing,  because people had never been involved—not the  
  • grass root people. I mean, leaders were springing  up—not the grass root people, they were not  
  • used to being involved. And so we did that. And  there was some rollback zoning that happened  
  • and um, so, as a result of several years  of that and it continued. It went on.  
  • And after that was started I  left that particular organization  
  • and went on to work—I was really wanting to get  back into—I had graduated—I went back to school  
  • and had graduated in 1982, I believe. So I had my  degree—I was teaching, but I wanted to go back and  
  • start working with middle school kids again and  get back into that thing. So I went to, uh, then I  
  • started working for South Austin Youth Services—it  was called at the time. I was with Mona Gonzales.  
  • And she had an organization. South Austin, same  population. It was young Chicano kids—at risk,  
  • dropping out, for more. And so, I was hired  to work with families of dropout kids—or  
  • at risk dropout kids. I was working with  their families trying to keep their kids  
  • in school. And I did that for a year. That  was like in, um, it would be like in 1986. 
  • WALJE: Ok. MANCIAS: Yeah, and  
  • I had—another thing I had been doing during  that time before I started working with South  
  • Austin Youth Services while I was working with the  neighborhood. I had a radio program—I didn’t write  
  • that down I should have written that down. WALJE: Mis Amigos? 
  • MANCIAS: Mis Amigos, yes, yes.  I did that, where we interviewed  
  • people from—local people and people from  other places in the state and the country—a  
  • lot of Native American leaders. And the  purpose of Mis Amigos was to just kind of  
  • show solidarity with other people around  us that had similar issues. You know, like  
  • land issues and civil rights issues. And  
  • that’s what it was. You know, I would interview  people and draw those connections to—because  
  • unless I was interviewing somebody in English that  didn’t speak Spanish (because the program was in  
  • Spanish)—and so trying to establish a connection  between the East Austin community with the people  
  • around the world really—. WALJE: Uh—huh, yeah. 
  • MANCIAS: And that was Mis Amigos. And  it started out—I did a couple of radio,  
  • but then it became TV because at the time  I was working with AC—I was using ACTV  
  • organization equipment, and I learned  interviewing, and I learned what I could from  
  • videoing—using that equipment from a friend.  Sharon Steward—she was really, really good. That  
  • was her background, and to this day she’s still  doing that. She’s done several documentaries. And  
  • so we did that together. And so I hosted  that. Anyway, that gave me some background  
  • in television production. So when I was  working for South Austin Youth Services,  
  • producer/director Hector Galan came to that  organization because he was looking—well  
  • he was between documentaries. He worked for  Frontline—American Experience Frontline. And  
  • he did a lot of independent things. But basically,  those were his bread and butter at the time. And  
  • at the time, he was between projects, and he was  doing something for United Way. And South Austin  
  • Youth Services got funding from United Way.  So he came trying to see if he could do—pull  
  • South Austin news sources into his promo for  United Way that he had been hired to do. And so  
  • my boss, Mona Gonzalez, put me—put him in touch  with me. And she says, “Well, you know, she kind  
  • of does media for us, and so she can work with  you.” And so I started working with him, and then  
  • got interested in my background because he had a  similar background. And he said, “You know what,  
  • my production coordinator just left, and I really  need some help. Would you be interested in working  
  • with me?” And, you know, that was like a huge  opening for me. I mean, I really wanted to learn  
  • that aspect of television production. It was much  bigger. And I felt I could do a lot more—learn a  
  • lot more, and do a lot more with it. So, I did.  I started working with full—on productions,  
  • and immediately did one. Our first—my first,  certainly not his first, but my first documentary  
  • was the Dallas drug war, and that was in  1987, I believe is when we did that one. And  
  • at the time it was a lot of—that was  during the crack era that was just, like,  
  • going nuts everywhere. And we decided  to do it in Dallas because it was the—it  
  • was the Bible Belt, and it was really kind of a  lot of irony. And it was an interesting story.  
  • It wasn’t—we weren’t going to tell the same  East Coast story or West Coast story. You know,  
  • we wanted to tell something different. So  anyway, we did that. After that, it was  
  • another one for Frontline, and then I became  his associate producer after that year.  
  • It was crazy how—you know, how you learn to do it  just ground—just start running as soon as you get  
  • in there and learning to get people to talk to  you and learning to find stories. It was pretty  
  • incredible. But then we did the migrant worker  story, and it was—. In 1960 Edward R. Murrow did  
  • the “Harvest of Shame” on migrant workers. And  what we did was “Same Harvest”—what was it called?  
  • It was “Old Harvest, Same—” I wrote it down.  I’ll never forget. “New Harvest, Old Shame”. And  
  • it was kind of picking up the same migrant trail.  And that was really cool for me because, you know,  
  • my own family had been migrant workers. And so  I traveled with the migrant workers for that one  
  • from Ohio to Homestead, Florida. And we  filmed, I traveled with them. And the crew  
  • would kind of, like, meet us in certain places,  but I was with them the whole time, and that was  
  • an incredible experience too. We did that, and  then after that, we did another documentary  
  • on Latinas and AIDS. That one was called “The  Forgotten People: Latinas with AIDS.” And  
  • that was because AIDS was such a big deal, but  Latinas were not—even though they were very much  
  • affected, they were hardly ever referenced when  talking about AIDS. You know, it was usually men,  
  • gay men—and nothing wrong with that. It’s  just that Latinas was a whole other thing  
  • because of the way—because of crack, for one  thing, and poverty, and just the places where  
  • they were living. And we did that one in  Chicago, and New Jersey, and New York,  
  • Arizona. Anyway, so that was that one. And then my  final one that I worked with Hector was in 1992,  
  • yeah. We worked on one called “Who Cares about  Children”, and that was on the foster care system  
  • that was falling apart. There was a lot of  instances going on around the country about foster  
  • care. So we were doing one that was for Frontline  as well. And we did that one in Arkansas because  
  • Clinton, at the time, was governor of Arkansas,  and they were being sued. (Laughs). You know,  
  • we would pick somewhere where the interest  would be really—you know, where you could  
  • get the interest for the issue. And their foster  care system was being sued, and he was running for  
  • President. And so we went there, and we got our  story there, and that was it. And then after that,  
  • let’s see—I got married somewhere in there—in  1990, I got married. And life was starting to kind  
  • of look a little bit different. When I was working  on the documentaries, I traveled all the time. I  
  • was always so [worn] out. I would go and stay  somewhere for a month or two at a time because  
  • we’d be—to get the story. And so things  started to—I started thinking, Well,  
  • maybe I just need to get back to education and  kind of just leave this for a little bit. But I  
  • wanted to try and do something on my own, and I  did. I put together a pilot project. But I never  
  • got the full funding. I got funding for it, but  to get a film you have to, like, really, really,  
  • really dedicate your life to getting funding for  it because it costs a lot of money, and there’s  
  • a lot of people doing it. And the one that I  did was called “The Smoking Gun”. And it was on  
  • the anencephaly of children on the  border—encaphalitis, children being born—babies  
  • being born with really exposed backbones. And  I went into Mexico, and I did some interviews  
  • of women working in the maquiladoras, and  doctors, and people on both sides of the border.  
  • But I didn’t get the full funding for that  one. That was my last thing with film.  
  • At that time, I got pregnant. And it was like,  “Okay, I need to just kind of rethink my life  
  • and think where I’m going to go with it.”  And I just went back to full—time teaching,  
  • which has always been, to me, one of the  most rewarding things that anybody can do.  
  • I always worked in East Austin, mostly in schools  that had a lot of immigrant children. So it was  
  • working, and eventually became a reading  specialist. To me—and more and more these days,  
  • kids are not learning to read, and it’s like  the worst thing. They’re learning to take tests,  
  • and they’re not learning to read and love to  read. And so, that’s what I did for the next,  
  • I guess, twenty—plus years after that,  
  • and retired a few years ago—2016. WALJE: So all of this activism that you got  
  • involved in and everything else—do you think that  growing up in small towns and experiencing those  
  • things that you did, do you think that impacted  why you were drawn to activism whenever you moved  
  • to Austin? Because you mentioned the  discrimination you faced and everything  
  • else when you were growing up in there. Like,  developmentally, do you think that impacted you? 
  • MANCIAS: I think that gave me the direction.  I’ve thought about this, actually. I think  
  • that gave me the direction in the place where  I wanted to place my energy and focus because  
  • as I mentioned before, when I got here, before I  knew anything about, Oh, this is discrimination.  
  • This is what I’ve experienced in my life,  I had a drive to work—doing something. And  
  • like I said, I went to—I lived across the  street, in an apartment across the street  
  • from the state hospital. And I would see people  kind of walking around, and some people were—you  
  • know, I met them in the park because  they walked around. And I started going,  
  • Maybe I can go over there and see what I can do  there. I wanted to do something. I think people  
  • that get involved get involved because there’s  a drive to get involved doing something. And  
  • before I found what to focus it on as far as  
  • my activism in politics, I put it there because  that’s what was—that’s the only thing that I  
  • could see. WALJE: Right. 
  • MANCIAS: So when you say did my experience impact  or influence: yes, I think it gave it direction.  
  • I think when I finally became aware through  that class at UT—when I finally became aware of,  
  • This is what I have been experiencing. This  is what my people experience. This is what my  
  • family experienced. This is what people all the  time—and this is what caused it. And it’s still  
  • going on. And then I began to see it everywhere. I  saw it in the police brutality cases. I saw it in  
  • discrimination in the small towns in the Valley  where people didn’t—when I went to go help them  
  • organize for voting—registering to voting, people  in Crystal City still didn’t have paved streets.  
  • They didn’t have indoor plumbing.  They didn’t have—and this  
  • was, like, in the mid—70s. WALJE: That’s crazy. 
  • MANCIAS: So it’s just kind of like, this isn’t  right. So yeah, I had a drive to get involved,  
  • like I think a lot of people do today. And  I see today. It’s like, “Fix the wrongs.”  
  • You just go fix the wrongs. And wherever you fall  on that—some people may not have my experience of  
  • growing up with, you know, the poverty and the  injustices, and everything that I experienced.  
  • I didn’t know I was experiencing that—it made  me feel bad, but I didn’t know what that was,  
  • because I had so much love, you know? I  had so much love and support from my family  
  • that when I came out of that I just had  a drive to do something and I think it  
  • that’s what people have today. Those people  you see in demonstrations—people that you see  
  • putting their lives on the line for all  kinds of things and out in the streets  
  • doing the things that they’re doing today—it’s  the same drive. You just feel compelled—you  
  • just come to this world and you feel compelled to  do something and you figure out what it is and you  
  • keep working at it until you figure out what it  is. It’s one thing for a while and you move into  
  • another thing. With me it was, you know, finally  I got my satisfaction for most of my life through  
  • working with kids—teaching them to read because  that sets them for a lifetime of success. 
  • WALJE: In regards to—I know you mentioned  you worked for or you worked with the Brown  
  • Berets and you also were writing for Para la  Gente and working with the Raza Unida Party.  
  • Were—how involved with each other were those  two organizations? Did they see things the  
  • same way? Were they working together? Or did they  have—or were they a little bit divergent at times? 
  • MANCIAS: They were divergent. Um, yeah. Because  at the—here in Austin—not everywhere around the  
  • state—here in Austin, Raza Unida was a UT thing. WALJE: Okay. 
  • MANCIAS: It wasn’t like a popular thing around  there. That’s how I got to know it—through UT.  
  • And around the state it was like the small  towns—it was the people there—but not here. People  
  • here weren’t, like, in the community, there wasn’t  a Raza Unida party, in the East Austin community. 
  • WALJE: Why do you think that was? MANCIAS: Why do you think that was? 
  • WALJE: Yeah. MANCIAS: Well because, I  
  • am—when I started getting involved I realized that  
  • East Austin organizing was a little territorial.  That can be positive and that can be negative.  
  • Positive because it was dedicated  
  • and passionate but very protective—because it was  like—and the reason it was protective was because  
  • the leadership that was here when I first  started working in the East Austin community  
  • the leadership there was very wary of  people coming in and starting to organize  
  • and lead people off in directions that  they felt were not in the interests of  
  • the community but in the interests of the people  that were leading people off. And so it was—I  
  • would call it territorial. I would call it  protective. And Raza Unida was not necessarily  
  • welcomed as a party because they did not feel—East  Austin people did not feel that it reflected  
  • exactly those community—and they didn’t want  leadership coming in from somewhere else. So  
  • Raza Unida brought in its own leadership. East  Austin had its own leadership. So it wasn’t going  
  • to be—ok, we’re going to share leadership. And  it’s a classic, classic, classic thing wherever  
  • you go that there’s organizing. It’s um, and  people are there just trying to do the work—it’s  
  • hard. It’s hard to work around those  things. That’s leadership here,  
  • that’s leadership there—I want to do the work. WALJE: And is that why you mentioned when you  
  • were working in East Austin with the zoning  laws that you were careful to not, um—you  
  • didn’t want to come in and take over. MANCIAS: Exactly. 
  • WALJE: You just wanted to help organize? MANCIAS: Exactly. I did not want to become  
  • a community leader. I didn’t have any  desire to come in and be known as one  
  • of the community leaders. That’s never—I don’t  know—that’s never been part of what I want to do.  
  • I’ve never—you know, throughout  the years at different times—run  
  • for this office or run for that  office or do this and it’s like—no,  
  • that is not what I want to do. I like doing the  work and just, you know, I like doing the work.  
  • But yeah, that’s an interesting question that  you would ask that because that was definitely  
  • the dynamic with leadership and really, Raza  Unida wasn’t trying to come in and step over—they  
  • weren’t. When I came in I was doing the story for  the paper and then when I came in it was like,  
  • this is the work I want to do. And Raza Unida was  starting to, like, organize less do a little—it  
  • was just starting to change just because of other  dynamics that were going on within them. And  
  • I had already graduated from school too.  I’d already got my degree, and so I wasn’t  
  • as involved with the university as much. And so I  just saw a place to get involved in East Austin. 
  • WALJE: You mentioned that you did, like,  protests regarding police brutality,  
  • and I know that you were heavily involved  in the protests that got the boat races  
  • canceled. Was there significant conflict that  was ever involved with that with the police,  
  • in regard to that? MANCIAS: Yeah, I should have mentioned. 19—well  
  • we had demonstrations all the time. There  were several police incidents where black men  
  • or Latino men were killed. One young man was  shot in the back stealing a loaf of bread.  
  • One young man was shot in his neighborhood  in Montopolis. An older man was  
  • choked in front of the police station.  He was drunk, and they choked him in  
  • front of the police station. So we were working  with the black community for police brutality—or  
  • against police brutality. So we would have marches  
  • downtown, around the police station. It was the  Brown Berets and the Black Citizens Task Force  
  • that would organize these. These were Brown  Berets. These weren’t like other community  
  • leaders. This was definitely a Brown Beret project  was the police brutality. The community issues  
  • was where a lot of that—but those community  leaders would show up for the protests. It’s  
  • not like we were on our own for that. They weren’t  the ones that were organizing them, but they would  
  • show up for those. We’d get a lot of people from  around the community. I mean, they understood  
  • this had been going on for a while, and people  hadn’t really been protesting this to the extent  
  • that we were starting to protest at that time.  Police—we had—so police had a problem with the  
  • Berets. They had already arrested several  people at the boat race—the same leaders.  
  • Paul Hernandez was one of the leaders—his  brother Sam. And there were a couple of others.  
  • They were arrested, along with several others at  the boat races. And then there was a Klan march in  
  • 1983. Did I write that down? Yeah, 1983, February. WALJE: I remembered reading about  
  • that. Yeah, in Austin. MANCIAS: Yep, it was  
  • February. In fact, it was  February 19th, 1983. The clan,  
  • for some reason, decided to come march in Austin.  It was real contentious. They were on television  
  • holding up a gun. You know, “And this is for Paul  Hernandez. We’re going to make sure that—doesn’t  
  • get away with anything.” WALJE: Oh, wow. 
  • MANCIAS: And of course, we were organizing  our protest, our counter protest.  
  • The clan was going to march in the capitol,  and we were going to counter protest. We had,  
  • I mean, we organized it for a long time. We had  a lot of people showed up. And it wasn’t just  
  • people from East Austin. It was people  from all over and people that—you  
  • know Austin. You know? They weren’t going to  put up with a clan marching downtown without a  
  • good protest. So it was people from everywhere,  not just Mexican—Americans or blacks.  
  • And we showed up to do the protest. The clan—and  at the time, I think because they hadn’t really  
  • had a big issue. We had voted—we had tried to  get them to stop. We had gone to council and  
  • tried to get them—you know, when you get older  you go, “You know, I can understand why the  
  • council did that because everybody has a right  to march, and you can’t really tell people not  
  • to march.” I mean you do—but back then it was  like, “No.” We were just indignant. It was like,  
  • “No they can’t march. They shouldn’t march.  They’re doing this, they’re doing that.” And so  
  • we did go to council, and they voted to let  them march, of course. And we showed up,  
  • and they didn’t really have them separated  very much. It was like the Klan march was on  
  • the street, and we were on the sidewalk.  And it was this throng of people that we  
  • were just marching along. Paul Hernandez, who  was the leader of the Berets and the person  
  • that they wanted most, I think because  he represented what the police were—he  
  • represented a lot of problems for the police—.  And it’s not all of the police. There were,  
  • like, three in particular who were involved  with that incident. But what happened is  
  • we were all up at the front. I was right by him,  and another friend of mine, and a couple of other  
  • people. And then this wall of police just cut us  off from the rest of the march. And they just kind  
  • of created a little wall, and they came in and  they just stopped us. And everybody behind us kept  
  • pushing us ahead because they didn’t stop. They  just kept marching. But the police had stopped us,  
  • so they kept pushing us into the police.  And then the police took out their batons,  
  • and they started, like, prodding us. Not holding  us like this, but doing us like that. And then  
  • one of them started really, really pushing  his baton into Paul’s stomach. And I just  
  • instinctively turned around, and I took  it, and I tried to pull it up like that.  
  • And immediately, they just—they knocked me out  with one blow. I was out. And they beat the heck  
  • out of him and another friend of mine who didn’t  go down so fast. But we were the three that got  
  • injured. They dragged me out of there, and I came  to while they were dragging me out. They had me  
  • by the arms, and they said, “You just need to  get out of—.” This one cop—I remember his name,  
  • Billy Sifuentes. He just came and said, “There’s  nothing you can do in there. You’re not going to  
  • help anybody. You just need to walk out of there.  You’re going to get hurt. Just keep going. There’s  
  • nothing you can do. He’s going to be all right.  Maria’s going to be all right. Everybody’s going  
  • to be all right. Just keep going.” And so, I  was really dazed. I mean, they had—I got several  
  • stitches in my head from the blow, so I was  dazed. I just kept walking. Later, I saw the video  
  • of how it was just like these strong cops  just beating up—Maria crawled out of the  
  • milieu while she was going. And he—they just  kept beating him, beating him, beating him.  
  • It was an incredible situation.  I think if it had happened today,  
  • it would have been different because it  had national coverage. A television station  
  • from Houston got the whole thing from a parking  garage up at the top. They got the whole thing.  
  • But the trial—we were not arrested until  three weeks later after the incident.  
  • That’s when they actually officially arrested us,  and our lawyers actually took us to the jail. And  
  • they didn’t put us in jail. They just—they  let us go. Our lawyers got us out. But  
  • they arrested us—they arrested me for  interfering with the arrest of another person.  
  • And they arrested Maria Limon for the same thing,  for interfering with the arrest of another person.  
  • And they arrested Paul Hernandez for  resisting arrest, which—all he was doing was,  
  • like, blocking— WALJE: Yeah. 
  • MANCIAS: You know—the blows. But we went to court.  
  • That was my first year of teaching  school too. That was really incredible.  
  • We went to court, and I got acquitted.  Maria got acquitted. And Paul—I  
  • think eventually, Paul did too. So it was  really for naught except that we all just  
  • got the tar beat out of us. WALJE: That kind of disproportionate  
  • response from the police there—the Klan was  marching too. Did they treat them differently?  
  • The police did, in their march? MANCIAS: Well nothing happened  
  • in the Klan. I mean, they, yeah. And  nothing would have happened with us,  
  • but they provoked it. They started—they  caused it because we weren’t attacking.  
  • We weren’t—we were just marching. We had  signs. We were marching. And, like I said,  
  • they came in front of us, and they stopped us,  and the crowd pushed us. So it looked like we were  
  • trying to push against them, but we  weren’t. It was the crowd behind us. 
  • WALJE: Right. MANCIAS: And then they used that as an excuse. But  
  • if they had not gotten in front of us for whatever  reason, that wouldn’t have happened. So they  
  • caused it, and that’s what they were trying to do. WALJE:  
  • Well, all right. That covered all  the questions that I had, Adela.  
  • This was really interesting. A really great  interview. Is there anything else that you  
  • want to talk about before we go? MANCIAS: Hmm,  
  • well, let me see. I’m glad you brought up the  Klan march because I almost forgot about that. 
  • WALJE: Yeah, I remembered reading something about  that, and I was wondering if I was mixed up or  
  • not, but I thought that was very interesting. MANCIAS: (Speaking at same time) There’s several  
  • videos on that. There are videos. There  was a video—it’s called the Klan march. And  
  • it’s by Gilberto—Gilbert Rivera.  He put it together, I think.  
  • And I did one for Mis Amigos later. And taking  the footage from the channel too in Houston—some  
  • of that footage. And we used some of  the footage from the council meeting.  
  • And we put that story together. To tell you  the truth, it’s in some archive. I haven’t  
  • seen it in forever. But it exists. I think  we’ve covered everything, Ethan. Let’s see.  
  • (Long pause). I think so. (Laughs). WALJE: This was really interesting.  
  • I can’t thank you enough for taking the time out  of your day to do this for me, and for our class,  
  • and for the History Center at Austin. (Laughs).  And thanks for your patience with the Zoom  
  • stuff—our adventure yesterday to get it all fixed. MANCIAS: (At same time) (Laughs) Hey. Well, I’m  
  • glad you remembered how to get back on there  because I got back in, and I said, Oh no, it’s  
  • the same thing I did yesterday, and if you had  not remembered how to do that I don’t know if we  
  • wouldn’t have spent another two hours doing this. WALJE: (Laughs) 
  • MANCIAS: So this is going to be in the History  Center? Is that where this is going to be? 
  • WALJE: Right, well, we’re doing an  oral history project—an Austin women’s  
  • oral history archive. And we’re going to be  writing papers, and we’re submitting all this  
  • to the archive. And then our class specifically is  going to write papers based on the interviews that  
  • were being conducted from the different women. MANCIAS: (at same time) Okay. Okay, well,  
  • I’m glad. I’m using a lot of History Center—I’m  continuing my writing after retirement. It’s like,  
  • you know when you retire you go, “Okay,  so—,” there’s phases of your life. You know,  
  • like there was that whole beginning and then,  as I kind of started figuring out where to get  
  • involved and doing all those things, and then  going into education. Raising my kid is another  
  • phase of a life that you never think of, but  it’s so important because that’s another person  
  • that is in the world that you know you’re  responsible for how they get started. So  
  • that was another thing. But you know, they’re  grown and well and doing okay. And so yeah,  
  • so I’m in another phase, and I’m putting notes  together and doing some writing, so I’m using the  
  • History Center a lot. So I’m glad they’re there. WALJE: All right, well, here I’ll go ahead and  
  • stop the recording here. MANCIAS: All right. 
  • WALJE: All right. (End of Interview)