Freedom Author | UCLA

TThe covers are bold and distinctive: Against a backdrop of gold, scarlet or navy blue, young men and women, some in traditional Mexican dress, hold their heads high and look to the future. In the magazine’s pages, the words of a certain Manuel de la Raza – his surname means “of the people” – are a wake-up call: “Remember that we have opportunities,” he urges. “Wake up and recognize them. Forget the old saying: ‘A Mexican doesn’t stand a chance.'”

The action takes place in Los Angeles during World War II, and the author behind the sonorous pseudonym is Félix J. Gutiérrez, 45, an art student in his twenties who is the founding editor of Mexican voice — the first publication by Latino students at UCLA — and a pioneer for the rights of Mexican Americans. His life was tragically cut short by cancer just 10 years after graduating, but his star shone brightly: During that brief period, he advanced and strengthened his community in ways that have resonated for decades to come.

Gutiérrez was a young father when he died, and his daughters and son – Lorraine Margot, Mercedes Gail and Félix Frank, all of whom followed in his footsteps in different ways – are now tracing their father’s path back to the working-class San Gabriel Valley neighborhood where he grew up during the Great Depression. They are poring through scrapbooks and helping to plan a public art monument that the city of Monrovia will dedicate in his honor. With each page turned, a picture emerges of a young man who overcame all obstacles to complete his education – and inspired other young Mexicans to do the same.

Although Gutiérrez knew the struggle of racial segregation, he never doubted his place in the world: His grandparents had lived in California since it was part of Mexico, and his father was a respected cement contractor whose name is still etched on some of Monrovia’s sidewalks. But despite living in a diverse community, Gutiérrez was one of only two Latinos in his high school class to graduate. That he would go to college set him apart even more; some neighborhood teenagers scoffed as he waited at the bus stop, books in hand. Some, however, saw his determination as inspiring: As Gutiérrez picked oranges to pay for his education and carpooled with workers to the orchards, friends took his share of the gas money, telling him he would need it for college. Those who knew him then later told his son Félix – a journalism lecturer – how much it meant to him to know that someone from his neighborhood was going to college.

Courtesy of UCLA Special Collections

The bold covers of Mexican voice has highlighted the dynamism of its US community. “Our job,” Gutierrez wrote: “raise up our people.”

Gutiérrez was a co-founder of the Mexican-American movement in the junior college and created the Mexican voice as a media outlet while he began to flourish as an artist and student journalist. Determined to earn his bachelor’s degree in art, he set his sights on the young, thriving public university on a hill above Los Angeles. Transferring to UCLA as an art student in 1940, Gutiérrez poured his talents into the magazine, along with other Bruins of Mexican descent. With “Progress Through Education” as their motto, the youth organizers addressed common issues and advocated pride in their culture and identity – work that resonated during the era of the Zoot Suit Riots. The Mexican voice They have stepped up their efforts by touting the achievements of native Mexican-American youth in everything from sports to academics to military service and urging young people to pursue higher education as the “new frontier.”

Gutiérrez’s creativity, like his activism, knew no bounds. He was a clever cartoonist with a sparkling sense of humor and was the arts editor of the UCLA football program. The goalpost; off campus, he used his talents as a draftsman for the Douglas Aircraft Company in the war effort. Some of his most impressive work lives on in the linoleum block-printed covers of the Mexican voice, alongside those of her fellow art student Juan Acevedo (born 1948). Gutiérrez’s daughter Mercedes Gail, herself an accomplished artist, remembers that her father became a master of the linocut technique.

Courtesy of the Gutiérrez family

Gutiérrez was not only a passionate writer, but also a talented artist and illustrator. Here is his watercolor entitled Baile, shows the vibrancy and energy of the Mexican community.

Both his art and his writing had a magnetic quality, and when the magazine staff expanded to include co-organizer Rebecca Muñoz, a love story unfolded. Muñoz, who would later become a groundbreaking educator, shared these observations in the Agree: “…His personality is dynamic, just like his writings; he attracts people because he is genuine and sincere in his actions.” The couple married in 1942 and started their family the following year.

After graduating, Gutiérrez looked for ways to share what he had learned at UCLA. “Our job is to uplift our people,” he once wrote in the Agree. “And how can we do that? By becoming teachers, social workers, writers, lawyers, doctors, businessmen and educated workers, working for their welfare and betterment in every way we can.” He spent his final years as a popular art and journalism teacher, activist and community leader at an East LA middle school. His daughter Lorraine Margot, a social worker, is especially inspired by his leadership of a family center in Highland Park that offered lifelong education and extracurricular activities.

The Monrovia Memorial was designed to honor both Gutiérrez and his father, Francisco, as pillars of their community. Meanwhile, Gutiérrez’s memory lives on on the campus where he once walked proudly: Before his death, he donated the entire run of the Mexican voice to UCLA, knowing that one day people would search for the story it tells. Housed in the UCLA Library’s Special Collections, this Bruin treasure has helped many scholars fathom its historical significance, and it awaits countless more.

The volumes are now fragile, the vibrant colors are fading, and the mimeographed pages are worn, but the message they contain—the legacy of the life of Félix J. Gutiérrez and those whose lives he fought for—is as alive and powerful as ever.

Read more from UCLA Magazine‘s summer issue 2024.