by Evan Johnson

Have you ever been to that bookstore in the little red building on South First and West Annie? Housed in three different locations over the years, it's been around for over two decades, which is quite a feat for a small independent bookseller. The unfortunate reality is that it's getting easier nowadays to forget why we once cherished a bookstore of this caliber: because it was charming; because you knew the people who ran it; because they knew the books; because you could walk into it without a particular title or author in mind and not feel overwhelmed. But if you ever visit Resistencia Bookstore, you'll not only be reminded of the value of the independent bookseller but also discover that it is truly one of those humble, unique Austin places -- still thriving today.

Resistencia does not just sell books. If it did, it would probably not be in business anymore. Nor does it have all of the popular favorite titles; it doesn't attract the droves of book buyers looking for Harry Potter or an Oprah Book Club honoree. What Resistencia does provide is a scene. It's a tradition in East and South Austin. And having seen a lot happen and change in both the city and the Latino community, it has many stories to tell.

Maybe you've heard of raul salinas, the longtime local beat poet-activist-teacher-now-elder who spells his name without capital letters. He offers a slangy hip blend of English-Spanish poetry with a heavy street beat and a cause. raul founded Resistencia in East Austin in 1982 after having opened a similar operation called El Centro de la Raza in Seattle in the late '70s.

René Valdez, a volunteer at Resistencia and program director at Red Salmon Arts, the non-profit arts organization that is run out of the bookstore, describes Resistencia's initial focus: "raul wanted to start off a small bookstore that had few titles but had the titles that you can't really get from anywhere else.

"And because raul has a history here, and the bookstore also has a history, and because it does have a community, those entities that care for our organization will come to buy books here because they either can't get it at Barnes and Noble or they want to support our efforts. We have nurses that come to Austin to find stuff that they can't find in El Paso, the home of Chicana and Chicano culture. Even San Antonio has a couple of arts groups, but they don't carry the same titles that we do," she adds.

raul explained his motivation for opening Resistencia in an interview with Suckarepellent.com last year: "There was stuff happening on the west side of town in the little bookstores, but though some inroads had been made, they were still very segregated. People were still afraid to go all out, and I felt the need to do that."

But Resistencia is doing much more than just selling hard to find titles. It serves as a voice for and perseveres in the Latino community. It is surviving the cutthroat bookseller industry and, at the same time, fostering survival, educating, activating, politicizing and serving as something of a center piece for art movements in South and East Austin -- the old Austin neighborhoods, with the real Austin character, history and flair that is increasingly rare.

Valdez says, "Everyone and anyone is welcome into this bookstore, as long as they can respect it like it's their own house, respect the people and respect our work. Likewise, we want to respect people who come in here. It's very important that we're conscious that this place is for cultural exchange. Diverse people come from Chiapas, Puerto Rico, Nicaragua, East Austin, San Antonio, California, and they share with the people; and that's what it's all about. What you see here is not flashy, but we do it with what we have and present it in a way that shows we're proud. We try to be accessible to the people, the community, to the activists, to the artists and to people who want to work with us."

It is easy to neglect the importance of history and community in a tech boomtown like Austin these days. We are always looking and moving forward, always building new neighborhoods where there were none before, catering to new groups of people with no local roots or history. That is what dilutes a city's character: the lack of history; the unfamiliarity; a faceless population that is not a community -- a population that appears out of thin air, just before the neo-hip-generic Barnes and Noble appears down the street. And that is not to say anything against Barnes and Noble, which I think is a fine bookstore with a bountiful selection, but you don't go to Barnes and Noble to get what you go to Resistencia to experience. There is something unique going on around Resistencia that I don't feel in this city everyday. It's that something I often boast about to people who live elsewhere, that cultural character thing which is so often hard to put a finger on and so often hidden away from most of us in a place of town we might not normally venture into.

Yet it takes time and hard work to build the kind of reputation that transcends the fleeting economic and cultural booms. And the people at Resistencia put in their time and effort daily. With the longest running poetry reading series in Austin, they host regular readings, open-mics, political forums, human rights activists, indigenous artists and read-ins. They bring in renowned international artists to speak and read. They have lured established Chicano/a artists like poet Rafael Cancel Miranda, poetry slammer Migual Algarin, CNN correspondent Maria Hinojosa, Zapatista chronicler John Ross and journalists/writers from San Antonio such as Patricia Gonzales and Roberto Rodriguez. Also, Resistencia provides meeting space for those grass roots organizations that identify with and support the more immediate community, groups like the Austin Cuba Committee and the El Comite en Solidaridad con Chiapas y Mexico, among others. Affordable space is not always easy to find for grass roots organizations with small budgets, and yet sometimes that space is the lifeblood for these groups.

"It's all about working with other groups and people," Valdez says. "We work with other organizations, cultural ones, political ones, arts ones. PODER (People Organized in Defense of the Earth and her Resources) is an East Austin environmental group. They are a very awesome force. We also work with ALLGO [Austin Latino/a Lesbian & Gay Organization] and the Austin Hispanic Writers. We've been here so long we've seen groups come and go, and we know the history too; so we try to be a place where people can come and connect with those groups but also be place where we can speak out against what we don't think is right for our hoods, our city or our nation. We try to be very astute and critical of the way things are."

Resistencia also serves as home base for Red Salmon Arts, which was founded in 1983 to support the arts of indigenous communities in Austin. With a media and publication division, Red Salmon Press, which boasts several titles -- two of which are by raul salinas -- Red Salmon Arts recognizes that the power of publishing can be potent, especially in active communities. Red Salmon Press publishes and distributes community newsletters, neighborhood papers and informational leaflets for various organizations in the area.

One of the press' most "cherished" projects is its collaboration with the Red Salmon Arts' Save Our Youth (SOY) program. SOY ("I am" in Spanish)sponsors writing workshops in local high schools and correctional facilities, and Red Salmon Press transforms the products from the workshops into youth chap books. SOY was one of the first arts programs in Austin to reach out to youth correctional facilities. Its goal is to redirect the energies of "hard-to-reach" youths through creative outlets, cultural awareness and pride. T.he workshops help participants build self-esteem, foster verbal/written communication and develop conflict resolution skills.

raul salinas teaches many of the workshops himself, which only shows his resolve and devotion. Most recently, he and Zapatista photographer Alan Pogue led workshops that had kids take pictures of cultural icons and their families. SOY also just published a chapbook with students from Austin's Del Valle High School called A Collection of Student Writings from Del Valle High School after sponsoring writing workshops for some of its students.

"I think it is important that you try to make something that expresses where you come from or what is a problem in your community," Valdez says. "Being a Chicano myself, I know there's not always a lot of good role models; so that's why it's so important that those types of people -- whether they're journalists, writers, artists, painters, activists -- come to share what they do and who they're involved with. One thing we cherish and try to sponsor and engage in is cultural exchange."

Mirta Toledo, curator of La Peña, another Austin cultural and educational organization which runs a similar program called the Floricanto Literary Festival at the Gardner Betts Juvenile Detention Facility, explains the positive effects of programs like Floricanto and SOY. "I think that in this society we have become so isolated that when you share you become part of something. And somehow in that moment you have a connection with another person, and you have the opportunity to reach to some others with your feelings. It is hard to share feelings for these kids in particular because they are really so isolated, and that is why I think it is so effective."

It is easy to romanticize the scene around Resistencia. But the words of struggle are potent, and the efforts and impact are real, even if they are mostly in the Latino community, even if they are not always appreciated by those outside the loop. The people at Resistencia are not trying to start a revolution. They are not trying to save the world. But they also are not trying to fund-raise their way into a more upscale West Austin community either. They are not afraid to use their resources to support the arts in their community.

"Our direct responsibility is to provide, not only in terms of literature and books that deal with people's histories and voices but also just to give them a space where they can exchange their thoughts, their arts, what they're doing. But we also try to be responsible to them. You know, if someone calls up looking for a certain kind of cookbook, we'll try to get them that book or tell them who to talk to or where to go. We try to be a good resource center," Valdez says.

And let's not forget Resistencia's cornerstone. Red Salmon Arts' open-mic poetry reading series, Café Libro, is the longest running series in the city of its kind, going strong since 1983. It has set a precedent for other bookstores in town, and nowadays you can go to a poetry reading practically every night of the week.

"We try to be local," states Valdez. "That's why we have our poetry open-mic series. Through that project we try to feature local poets. So we'll feature local poets and then open it up for the rest. That's just a way to help them develop their skills. We provide a safe place. We try to be very respectful and humble, especially to the people and how we engage each other."

Resistencia does well for itself and the people who are in the know, indeed. But they are still only a small operation and part of the struggle is getting the word out to the many who have not gotten the chance to enjoy this little part of Austin culture.

Dr. José Limon of the Center for Mexican-American Studies states, "There have been many times when I wish raul could have been funded in some significant way so that what he does could have a wider outreach. I get concerned sometimes that it operates with a circumscribed community, where the general larger public is often not reached. I've often wished there was a way to make him and what he writes and who he works with more accessible to the larger community. It is always entirely possible for anyone to go down to Resistencia, but clearly lots of people don't do that. I wish more people would come down from the larger community."

The Resistencia community is working towards this end. "What we want to do is bring the global issue locally and bring the local issue globally," Valdez states. "One thing we want to do is say, 'Hey, there's a struggle out in East Austin. There's these oil cartels that have been dumping oil into these farms on the east side close to Airport.'

"Or, go down to Chiapas, Mexico (where there's) a struggle for water, land, culture (and) dignity for these people. Who's involved? Oil cartels. Which ones? Well, some have to be Mexican, but some are also American. So what's the difference, other than that they're down there and we're up here? We're in solidarity with their struggle. We're not Zapatistas, but we're on the east side struggling, and we're going to talk about that struggle because it's important."

But politics and struggle can be a dangerous mix, especially when inspiring underprivileged, impressionable youth who might see themselves as trapped in the system. Yet Valdez insists that politics are only part of the program.

"Not all reading is about struggles," she states. "It has a lot to do with celebration. It's about musical celebration. We had Quetzal, a nine piece band out of East L.A., and they did an acoustic set. And they had a conga and violin and a bass, and it was beautiful music. And yet it was also saying something about their community and about Chiapas. What people are inspired by is culture, tradition and struggle.

"Contradiction is another inspiration. The contradiction of a mixture of cultures is one thing that a lot of us have to deal with. There's the language itself. We pride ourselves on how we can read English and Spanish and English and Spanish together. That is very Chicano, the way we speak in English and Spanish together. And the English purists hate it and the Spanish purists hate it. But we have our own little subculture and we pride ourselves on it."

So what is the secret to on-going survival for this little bookstore on South First and for the community it serves and supports?

"Hard work," Valdez admits. "It's hard to be an independent bookstore nowadays. We have to work harder, wake up earlier, stay later, but we're doing it because we realize that it's important that people come in so they can walk off inspired to do something for the community. The main focus is just maintaining the space. We want to keep on keeping on with our open-mic series. We want to start implementing some film screenings, some documentaries that deal with groups that know one really knows about.

"Resistencia has a reputation of resistance and of politically speaking. It's not necessarily that what happens here is political but because of raul and his involvement with other movements, the bookstore has a reputation among those kinds of writers and those kinds of artists, for being a place where community members can share their stories and share their arts and have a way of communicating."