I woke up August 20th at 5:00 AM not knowing what to expect. All I knew was that I had packed my backpack with five days worth of clothes, that I would catch the 6:00 AM Greyhound bus from Sacramento to Stockton and that I would be walking all the way back. In those five days I received an education that no textbook or classroom could ever provide.

What am I talking about? The 10-day march from Merced to Sacramento to let everyone, especially the governor of California, know that the United Farm Workers and its supporters wanted justice for farm workers. We were marching to let the governor know that he must sign the legislation that would allow workers to negotiate a union contract in a reasonable amount of time. We do not want to wait years and years for workers to negotiate union contracts to get decent wages and basic benefits.

Once the bus dropped me off in Stockton, a city that is unfamiliar to me, I looked at the address and the street map that would get me to the Teamsters union hall. "How ironic," I chuckled to myself, thinking back to my Chicano studies class in which I had learned that back in the sixties the Teamsters were the ones that came in to try to break the strikes the UFW put on.

I got to the hall just in time for mass. Relieved that I saw a familiar face, I went to the back to sit next to my friend, Jose, "El Rascuache." He already had five days of marching under his belt, all the way from the start in Merced. After mass, he filled me in on all the people that he had met, People like Pascaulito, the serene and softspoken priest that came all the way from Phoenix, Arizona; Ruth the nurse; the unofficial water boys who drove the porta-potties and handed us bottles of water every so often; Bernie and Don Ruben; and many more people that I would later get to know and learn from.

Once outside, the barren and quiet streets that I had walked through in the morning were now filled with shouts of "Una linea, una linea, cinco pies de distancia!" ("One line, one line, five feet of distance from each other!") Someone handed me a red flag with the words, "United Farm Workers of America, AFL-CIO" circling around a bold black eagle. Someone once told me that the UFW flag should not be used as a decoration on your wall, but should be used as a tool to attain justice and dignity. I now know what he meant by that.

I was asked by one of my friends why I would sacrifice a couple of days of summer to walk 10-15 miles a day in the hot sun of the Central Valley. My answer was simple: "People in the past fought for me to be able to be where I am today." It is my obligation and duty to give back to my community and fight for future generations to have a better future in a society where things are still not equal for everyone. My father told me stories of when he would work in the fields of the Central Valley. I know the sacrifices and struggles that people have made in order for me to have the luxuries that they never had. Five days of marching is nothing compared to what others have given up for social justice.

At first I was simply walking quietly, following the line of people, observing everyone else. There were a little over 100 people marching that day. Out of all those people one little boy caught my attention. This little boy, who I later found out was named Emilio, would deviate from the line, carrying his red flag high, shouting, "Sí se puede!" He couldn't have been more than seven years old. I smiled and thought to myself, "a future leader."

At lunchtime I finally had the honor of meeting the phenomenal Dolores Huerta. I was sitting alone at one of the picnic table waiting for Jose. Mrs. Huerta walked up to me and said hi. I looked up and saw her magical smile. Her eyes had this soft glow that showed years of love, struggle, and sacrifice for other people. She asked me my name and where I was from. I nervously answered that I was from the Bay Area but I was going to school in Sacramento. She then called Arturo Rodriguez over and introduced me to him. It is hard for me to describe how I felt having met Mrs. Huerta, someone that I respect and admire so much. I told her how much I looked up to her and how she is truly an outstanding person. She humbly smiled and said thank you. I would stare in awe every time Mrs. Huerta would speak. She is such a strong human being and it is evident that she is passionate about what she believes in. She is the type of person that I strive to be. In those few days that I marched with her I learned from her more than I could ever learn in a book.

As I continued marching that day, I began meeting more and more wonderful people-people like Mrs. Jessie De La Cruz, whom the director of California Rural Legal Assistance, Jose Padilla, described as a militant of life. Being with the union since the beginning, she inspired me every time that I would get tired. Here she was, over 80 years old and marching; even when she stumbled and tripped over a large speed bump she kept going. It's people like her that keep me going and keep me passionate and true to the struggle.

As I would march past the fields and the farmworkers it only made it more obvious that a lot more work needs to be done to improve the conditions that these hard working people must endure. It only made me angrier to think about how these large companies want to keep these people from being able to sign a union contract.

The final day of the march, the rally at the state capitol really opened my eyes at how much power we as a people have once we organize ourselves. It was so empowering to see over 5000 people together in a peaceful demonstration in support of a law that will bring justice to so many workers. It really made me proud to be a part of such a movement.

I know that everything that I learned from the people that I met and from the experiences that I had will truly help me in my quest of becoming a bilingual elementary school teacher. I will use these experiences to pass on to my students in teaching them how important it is to support causes that promote social justice. As Dolores Huerta told me, "One of the most important things you can learn is to fight for your rights and the rights of others. Fighting for social justice is the best education you can get." This is so true. Fighting for social justice has been the one of the best learning experiences that I have ever had!

Wendy Gonzalez is a bilingual teacher and a graduate student in bilingual education at California State University Sacramento. She is also a member of the DSA Latino Commission.