The experiences of life as a college student are as diverse as the personalities on campus.
At the all-male Raul Isidro Burgos Normal School in Ayotzinapa, in the southern Mexican state of Guerrero, the students lead lives that are entirely different from those of their peers elsewhere. Their day-to-day depends greatly on the volatility of the political and social reality that surrounds them.
In August 2013, I had the opportunity to spend three days at the school. I got to know the campus and the students, saw the murals of revolutionaries and fallen guerrilla leaders, and learned about the school’s history. I shared homemade mezcal with a group of normalistas, as the teaching students are known, while the graduating students prepared for a traditional, modest farewell ceremony.
Life at the Ayotzinapa school has drastically changed since September 26. That day, the mayor of the city of Iguala, Jose Luis Abarca, ordered a brutal attack against busloads of students form the school. Corrupt police killed six people during the operation, and forcibly disappeared 43 of them. The federal government has said that the 43 students were turned over to the Guerreros Unidos cartel and killed in a mass incineration.
These teaching students are able young men. They are capable of making toys, maps, and educational tools for their future classrooms out of a variety of recycled objects. They are also just as capable at launching Molotov cocktails or using slingshots loaded with rocks in response to the government’s failures and misdeeds against them.
This photo essay is intended to show the contrast between the lives led by the Ayotzinapa normal students prior to the horrific events that struck this school this year, and the reality they have faced since their peers were disappeared.
I have spent the last six weeks with the students at the Ayotzinapa school, since the crimes occurred. The pain is visible, as they live through the second month without any word on the whereabouts of their friends and classmates. Their lack of faith in the government grows by the day.
‘They took them alive, we want them back alive!’
The covered court where we played basketball last year now serves as a donation center to receive supplies and food for the students and search parties, and as a meeting point for family members of the 43 disappeared students. One corner of the court now functions as a mess hall, preparing and serving food to visitors, volunteers, even media.
In the center of the court sits an altar surrounded by flowers, adorned with a wood figure of Jesus on the cross.
Now, the students’ classrooms are used as dorms to house the normalistas who have traveled here from other normal schools across Mexico to support the search effort, and show solidarity at the demonstrations being organized throughout the state of Guerrero, across the country, and around the world.
In the main dining room, the students hold assemblies, which always end end with them singing “Venceremos!” — Spanish for “We will overcome!”
At their demonstrations against local authorities, the students have taken to shouting, “We are the people, just like you! We are the people!”
But, the mantra they have most repeated since their peers disappeared continues to be “Vivos se los llevaron, vivos los queremos!” — meaning,“They took them alive, we want them back alive!”