I’ve been going to Bisbee, Arizona since 2003, when my mother-in-law bought an old cabin in the eccentric former mining town near the border. I immediately fell in love with the place. My partner was born in Tucson and we have roots in the area, but nothing prepared me for this strange, magical, truly haunted enclave – and the secret history buried there. Since then, I’ve been dreaming of making a film that captures the unique and troubled spirit of Bisbee. The centennial of the Bisbee deportation – a tragedy where 1200 striking miners, many of them immigrants, were marched out of town at gunpoint and loaded unto cattle cars – gave us the opportunity. Maybe it was just a matter of time before I made the Bisbee film – my first ever feature film idea back when I initially came to town was to “re-stage the deportation with the locals.” So after five feature documentaries, many of which use performance to try to create new ways of seeing and understanding, it was finally time to make the movie I’d been dreaming of.

The Bisbee deportation is one of countless untold tales of radicalism and oppression in American history and I knew I wanted to tell the story when I first heard it in 2003. But we had relatively little idea when we started pre-production in the summer of 2016 just how relevant the story would become. As the calendar turned to the summer of 2017, with the centennial approaching, labor rights under unprecedented attack and a humanitarian crisis gathering on the U.S.-Mexico border, a sense of urgency began to set in for all of us. The desire for the community to tell this story was palpable and we filmmakers were providing the stage. They knew what we knew: the images that we were creating together would matter. Bisbee, in many ways, is a microcosm of the country and understanding the depth of what happened in the old company town is a way to grasp where we are today as nation, how deeply ingrained American mythologies are used to divide us, and what calamities await if we don’t heed the lessons of our history.

Our first mission, then, was to document the emotional awakening the town was experiencing as the centennial of the deportation approached. Then we began working with everyone from descendants of deportees to company families to create scenes that helped facilitate a kind of truth and reconciliation by way of layered performance. In my last several films, I’ve pushed further and further into the possibilities of collaborative, performative documentary filmmaking, where subjects and filmmakers work together to stage semiconstructed scenes that help the viewer imagine the internal lives of real people. With Bisbee '17, we’ve pushed this idea significantly forward. What we see is a working through of story and history and mythology as non-actors engage in “roles” that relate to their real lives and this collective trauma. The historical, the political, and the personal all become entwined as locals play dress up, portraying ghosts of a buried past. It all leads to a surprisingly cathartic and emotional place, where the collective performance of a town playing itself reveals both divisions and connections between people. Should we bury the past forever or should we work together to exorcise our demons? One white guy who played one of the vigilantes declares at the end of the large-scale recreation, “this is like the largest group therapy session ever.” A Mexican- American man who had played a deportee saw things a little differently. “You guys were good,” he said to a friend playing a deporter, “maybe too good.”

—Robert Greene, Director/Editor, Bisbee '17

Being historical advisor to Bisbee’17 was an unusual task because it is an unusual kind of film. It might be useful to explain the work I did for the field, as well as my background and interest in the topic. I am an “academic historian,” that is, a history professor who teaches in a university. My first book, published in 2009, examined the history of race in Cochise County, with close attention to the Bisbee deportation. This makes me a “subject expert,” but that only tells part of the story. Everyone has a point of view. Many residents of Bisbee know a great deal more about the place than I do, and some—several of whom are in the film—have done outstanding research of their own. Most locals see me appropriately as an “outsider,” but my relationship to Bisbee is more complicated than that. I lived there for almost a year, and have spent a great deal of additional time there. I am an Arizona native, and both my mother and my grandfather grew up on the border with Mexico. In fact, my grandfather was born in Cochise County, although his family—who were eastern European Jewish immigrants—moved to Nogales and El Paso. In other words, I have a different perspective than locals do and I have a PhD in history, but that does not make me “objective.”

Unlike my book, in which I do my very best to examine evidence to decide “what happened,” it is not the intent of Bisbee’17 to “stick to the facts.” Director Robert Greene wanted to know what had happened to the community’s memory in the century that followed the Bisbee deportation, after the mines closed in 1975 and the town had to reinvent itself and deny a painful past. When Robert and I first talked by phone about the project, the first question I asked was, “Do you know Bisbee?” because it is an unusual place. I wanted him to get Bisbee right, and I was tired of traditional documentary with talking heads and authoritative voice-overs. Historical evidence has messiness, absences, overlaps, and contradictions. Perspective and context change perceptions.

For as long as I’ve known about it, I’ve wanted someone to make a film about the deportation, but I lacked both the connections and the time to pursue it. In December 2016, I discovered Robert was working on the film and we began our collaboration. My collaboration with the film team had three parts. I had already developed an assignment for an introductory methods course, in which students read several short primary sources on the Bisbee deportation, identify their own biases, and then try to view each point of view with empathy. Robert liked the format, and so he asked me to draft ten to twelve possible scenes and character sketches (both individual and composite) from historical sources with competing perspectives. Second, I culled two boxes of primary documents from my old dissertation files, which I sent to the film team and a working committee of local historians in Bisbee. Two student interns and I compiled brief packets of material about each potential scene and character to distribute to the film team and the local residents appearing in the film. I tried to emphasize the prominent role of women in the event, the ethnic diversity of Bisbee, and the central roles Mexican miners played in the strike. I also gave them copies of important secondary work by other historians. In one notable scene, when Fernando asks for help pronouncing the word “solidarity,” he’s reading from one of our packets.

My historical contributions took place relatively early in the film process, which was fluid and participatory. I had no say in the interpretation of the past as conjured by Robert and the local re-enactors themselves, who relied on the facts I gave them but mostly on their own historical memory and interpretations. That makes sense, because the film is not about “what happened,” but rather about how people think about the past in their present.

Finally, in July 2017, the week of the centennial events, I spent eight days in Bisbee as an observer, extra, and “expert” in a couple scenes that were cut from the film. I appear in several scenes as an extra but I am identifiable in the film only once, as an audience member at a church ceremony commemorating the deportees.

The process was emotional for me and it made me think more about what professional historians, especially those with significant privilege, owe to the people and places we study. I have taught thousands of students, written many articles and two books. I’ve been on TV and radio a few times. But seeing this film come to life has been by far my most satisfying professional experience. I shared my research with the film and the committee, including the database of names artist Laurie McKenna used for her art installment and Mike Anderson used for his research on deportees. But are those gestures enough, especially as the county has been caught up in the border debates and deportations of the last two decades? I am not sure I know the answer, but I am so grateful to the film crew and the people of Bisbee for letting me be a part of the film.

— Katherine Benton-Cohen, Historical Advisor, Bisbee ‘17

This guide is an invitation to dialogue. It is based on a belief in the power of human connection and designed for people who want to use Bisbee ‘17 to engage family, friends, classmates, colleagues and communities. In contrast to initiatives that foster debates in which participants try to convince others that they are right, this document envisions conversations undertaken in a spirit of openness in which people try to understand one another and expand their thinking by sharing viewpoints and listening actively.

The discussion prompts are intentionally crafted to help a wide range of audiences think more deeply about the issues in the film. Rather than attempting to address them all, choose one or two that best meet your needs and interests. And be sure to leave time to consider taking action. Planning next steps can help people leave the room feeling energized and optimistic, even in instances when conversations have been difficult.

For more detailed event planning and facilitation tips, visit amdoc.org/engage/resources.

Combining documentary and scripted elements in sometimes jarring ways, Bisbee '17 follows the residents of Bisbee, Arizona (a former mining town near the Mexico border), as they commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Bisbee deportation. In 1917, in the midst of World War I, over one thousand mostly-immigrant miners went on strike for better wages and safer working conditions. Under the orders of the sheriff, an armed posse of local residents violently rounded up the strikers and their sympathizers, herded them onto cattle cars, and drove them 180 miles into the New Mexican desert, where they abandoned them.

The film documents present-day Bisbee residents as they play characters and stage dramatic scenes from this controversial event, culminating in a large-scale recreation of the deportation itself. Conflicting interpretations emerge, showing the complexity of collective memory and its influence on present-day identity. Emotions raised by the drama of re-enactment draw attention to current debates involving immigration, labor rights, racism, corporate power and state-backed violence. Haunting messages about solidarity and struggle invite viewers to consider the use of patriotism to rationalize injustice.

Key Participants

Mike Anderson – member of the commemoration committee and historian of the ballpark where the deportees were held before they were loaded onto trains

Charlie Bethea – radio host and head of the committee organizing the commemoration of the Bisbee deportation

Richard Hodges – raised in Bisbee; now in charge of maintenance for the Bisbee Unified School District; plays Sheriff Harry Wheeler in the reenactment

Mary Ellen Suarez Dunlap – Bisbee resident born into a Mexican immigrant family and the first Hispanic woman to win a county election (to become clerk of Superior Court); plays Fernando’s mother in the reenactment

Alberto Lucero – former rodeo performer who plays IWW organizer Rosendo Dorame in the reenactment

Richard “Dick” Graeme – from a family of miners; started as miner and worked his way up to become company president; now retired; plays mine general manager Walter Douglas

Laurie McKenna – artist who created the “Undesirables” exhibit featuring those who were deported

Sue Ray - raised in Bisbee where her grandfather (Les) and great uncle (Archie) were miners; during the deportation, the former arrested the latter and put him on the train. Sue’s sons, Steve (a retired county sheriff’s deputy) and Mel, take on these roles as part of the re-enactment

Fernando Serrano – the young man who plays a Mexican miner in the re-enactment

James West - actor and former private prison employee; plays John C. Greenway, a mine general manager who was indicted but never convicted for kidnapping and conspiracy for his role in the deportation

Key Issues

Bisbee ‘17 is an excellent tool for outreach and will be of special interest to people who want to explore the following topics:

• Arizon & border history
• corporate power
• government abuse of power
• historical reenactment/historical memory
• immigrant laborers
• Industrial Workers of the World (IWW)
• labor history and organizing
• mining towns
• U.S. history (immigration, World War I)
• unions

Historians have produced rigorous accounts of the 1917 Bisbee deportation and the labor struggles in early 20th century Cochise County, Arizona. What follows is a brief synthesis of these scholars’ research to provide context for the film. Refer to the texts in the Resources section below for more detailed histories.

At the turn of the 20th century, Arizona’s Cochise County embodied the shifting national and social boundaries of the American West. When the U.S. acquired the territory from Mexico in 1853, its inhabitants included Anglo-American settlers, Chiricahua and Western Apaches, and Mexicans who were offered U.S. citizenship after their homes became American soil. Although citizenship conferred the racial status of “white” under federal law, historians including Katherine Benton-Cohen have shown how the privileges and immunities of whiteness remained elusive for many residents of Mexican origin. Anglo-American settlers contested the definition of citizenship as they drove indigenous families off of the land and encountered their new neighbors: immigrants from Mexico and Europe who were arriving to work in the mining industry.

World War I increased the demand for copper, and in the 1910s mining cities like Bisbee were booming. The extractive industries led to a vibrant union movement in the southwest, and when Arizona became a state in 1912 it ratified one of the most labor-friendly constitutions in the nation’s history. However, this Progressivism developed in tension with racist nationalism. Bisbee was known as a “white man’s camp”: local laws excluded Chinese immigrants and restricted Mexican workers to jobs that were more menial and lower paid. With discriminatory labor practices, the mining companies capitalized on nationalism and racism to disrupt solidarity between U.S.-born workers and their immigrant counterparts.

If the mining companies feared cooperation between U.S.-born and immigrant workers, it was because interracial organized labor was gaining power nationwide. The International Workers of the World (IWW), also known as the Wobblies, were a radical union that organized workers of all races and nationalities, including more than six thousand Mexican, European and Anglo-American workers in Arizona by 1917. Many of these IWW members worked at the Copper Queen Mine in Bisbee, which was owned by the Phelps-Dodge Corporation.

In early 1917, the Wobblies came to Bisbee and mobilized workers at the Copper Queen mine. They brought several demands to the bargaining table: improved safety practices, pay increases, an end to unfair wage deductions such as water and light charges, and a decrease in the racialized wage gap between Anglo-American workers and the predominantly Mexican “surface workers.” The mining companies refused to negotiate with the union. Citing the war effort, the mine owners denounced the workers’ demands as unpatriotic and claimed that the vocally anti-war IWW was an “outlaw organization.”

In late June 1917 the union voted to strike. By some scholars’ estimates, 90 percent of the mining workers went on strike; a large portion of these strikers were Mexican immigrants. A U.S. Deputy Marshal called it “the most peaceful, orderly strike I ever saw.” Although all the workers were men, women and families joined the picket lines in solidarity.

Three weeks after the strike began, an anti-union vigilante group called the Citizens’ Protective League met with Cochise County Sheriff Harry Wheeler and hatched a plan to defeat the workers. A rumor was circulating that the strike was planted by a conspiracy between pro-German sympathizers and Mexicans to sabotage the country’s production of copper and undermine the war effort. Sheriff Wheeler appointed 2,200 citizens—nearly all white men—as armed deputies to round up the striking workers.

The event that became known as the Bisbee deportation began just before dawn on July 12, 1917. Wheeler’s deputies picked up guns and scattered across Bisbee, busting in doors and arresting men in their homes. One worker was killed while attempting to defend his home against invasion. The deputies marched the deportees at gunpoint through the town and assembled them on a baseball field, where a crowd of family members and onlookers gathered. After herding the workers into 23 boxcars owned by the Phelps Dodge Company, they drove 180 miles into the desert and left them in the desert near Hermanas, New Mexico. In total, an estimated 1,200 strikers and their suspected sympathizers were expelled from Bisbee. Approximately 90 percent of the deportees were immigrants, hailing from at least 34 countries.

The deportees were taken in by the U.S. army camp in the border town of Columbus, NM. Although the fate of these men was once unknown, almost none of them returned to Bisbee. According to one deportee, the threat of persecution would make life “unendurable for them in Bisbee.” Six months after the deportation, Bisbee’s directory claimed that “no foreign labor is employed in the mines”; one scholar found just six percent of the identified deportees in a city directory months after the deportation. Following the deportation, the immigrant population of Bisbee was dramatically reduced, and the growing labor movement was crushed in mining cities across Arizona.

Sheriff Wheeler had carried out a sweeping anti-union purge, and the event made national headlines. Following a public outcry, President Woodrow Wilson appointed a federal commission to conduct an investigation into the incident. The commission found that “those who planned and directed [the deportation]...purposely abstained from consulting about their plans either with the United States attorney in Arizona or the law officers of the state or county”; their report concluded that the deportation was “wholly illegal” and “without justification, either in fact or in law.”[1] The New Republic described it as a “brutal resort to the spirit of mob violence.” However, the commission could not identify any federal laws that were violated. They ultimately recommended the creation of new laws to protect striking workers, but the perpetrators of the Bisbee deportation never faced legal consequences.
[1] “The President’s Commission at Bisbee,” 140.

Sources:

Benton-Cohen, Katherine. "Advising Bisbee’17." The American Historical Review, Vol. 124, Iss. 3, June 2019, pp. 976-982.

Benton-Cohen, Katherine. Borderline Americans: Racial Division and Labor War in the Arizona Borderlands. Harvard University Press, 2009.

Benton-Cohen, Katherine. "Making Americans and Mexicans in the Arizona Borderlands." Mexico and Mexicans in the Making of the United States, edited by John Tutino, University of Texas Press, 2012, pp. 171-207.

Benton-Cohen, Katherine. “Two Ways of Looking at the Bisbee Deportation.” Lapham’s Quarterly, 30 August 2018, https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/roundtable/two-ways-looking-bisbee-deportation.

Bonnand, Sheila. “The Bisbee Deportation of 1917: A University of Arizona Web Exhibit.” University of Arizona, 1997, www.library.arizona.edu/exhibits/bisbee/history/overview.html.

Byrkit, James W. Forging the Copper Collar : Arizona’s Labor Management War of 1901-1921. University of Arizona Press, 1982.

Delman, Matt. “A Conversation with Robert Greene (BISBEE ’17).” Hammer to Nail, 27 August 2018, http://www.hammertonail.com/reviews/robert-greene-interview/.

Dubofsky, Melvyn, and McCartin, Joseph Anthony. We Shall Be All: a History of the Industrial Workers of the World. University of Illinois Press, 2000.

Gordon, Linda. The Great Arizona Orphan Abduction. Harvard University Press, 1999.

Meeks, Eric. Border Citizens: The Making of Indians, Mexicans and Anglos in Arizona. University of Texas Press, 2019.

O’Neill, Colleen. “Domesticity Deployed: Gender, Race and the Construction of Class Struggle in the Bisbee Deportation,” Labor History 34, no. 2–3 (1993): 256–273.

“Report on the Bisbee Deportations.” U.S. Department of Labor, www.library.arizona.edu/exhibits/bisbee/primarysources/reports/president/index.php.

“The President’s Commission at Bisbee.” New Republic, vol. 13, no. 162, Dec. 1917, p. 140.

Watson, Fred. "Still on Strike! Recollections of a Bisbee Deportee." Journal of Arizona History, vol. 18, 1977, pp. 171-184, http://www.library.arizona.edu/exhibits/bisbee/docs/jahwats.html.

Weber, Devra. “Mexican Workers in the IWW and the PLM. IWW History Project. https://depts.washington.edu/iww/mexicaniwws.shtml.

Young, Elliott. “Haunted by Trauma.”The American Historical Review, Vol. 124, Iss. 3, June 2019, pp. 963–966, https://doi.org/10.1093/ahr/rhz456

Immediately after the film, you may want to give people a few quiet moments to reflect on what they have seen. Or pose a general question (examples below) and give people some time to jot down or think about their answers before opening the discussion:

• If you were going to tell a friend about this film, what would you say?
• Describe a moment or scene in the film that you found particularly disturbing or moving. What was it about that scene that was especially compelling for you?
• Did anything in the film surprise you? Was anything familiar?
• If you could ask anyone in the film a single question, whom would you ask and what would you want to know?

What did you learn from the film about the Bisbee deportation? How did those who ordered or carried out the deportation justify their actions? What were the stated and actual motives of the mining company, the sheriff, and the IWW?

The Ray family, whose grandfather and uncle were on opposite sides of the deportation, say they understand the perspectives of both sides: the miners who protested low wages and unsafe working conditions, and those who believed it was their patriotic duty to continue mining in support of the nation’s war efforts. Could the mining have continued without the deportation? Do you share the Rays’ neutral view? Why or why not?

Dick Graeme argues that the deportation “was not an anti-immigrant move. It was not a labor-busting move. It was let’s make our community safe for the women, for the children, for the mines. Let’s support the war effort in Europe; our sons that we sent over.” Compare this to Dan Frey’s conclusion that the deportation was “in the nature of an ethnic cleansing.” How do you account for the contradictory views?

Dan Frey, a member of the Bisbee deportation centennial committee, notices that the names of those who were deputized are nearly all Anglo Saxon, “so my conclusion after all this research: The deportation was not [only] a response to a labor action…It was also in the nature of an ethnic cleansing…Walter Douglas decided [to] make this an American camp [and] get all these aliens out of here.” Later, reenactor Fernando Serrano quotes historical material on the event: “During the deportation about 90% of the deportees were born outside of the United States [and most of those were] either Mexican or eastern European—the men who had always been at the margins of the white man’s camp.” Beyond the scenes in the film, what further evidence would you need to decide whether the deportation was motivated by racism? What do you think it felt like for the people remaining in Bisbee who were not white? How might the deportation have changed the way white people in Bisbee saw themselves?

Dick and Doug Graeme believe that the IWW was “too radical.” How does the Bisbee deportation square with your understanding of First Amendment rights? Should the government be allowed to ban speech or public demonstrations that represent views they deem dangerous? In a community, who should decide what views are considered dangerous?

As a member of the commemoration’s research committee, Mike Anderson (a former journalist who is historian of the ballpark where opponents of the mine owners were corralled before they were put on trains) found that, “The general impression that the media at that time gave, and remember the media was controlled by the money companies in Arizona, was that these are Wobbly agitators. That’s the impression I had for a long time too.” What role does the media play in our understanding of historical events and current conflicts? How is their framing of issues related to their revenue sources? What lessons does the history of Bisbee offer about media ownership and influence?

It appears that the Sheriff acceded to the requests of mine manager Walter Douglas rather than protecting the strikers. What structures facilitated that alliance? Do you think it would be the same today? Would law enforcement be more likely to defend protesting workers or their employers? What makes you think so?

In the reenactment, though Fernando explains the injustice he faces, his mother urges him not to join the strikers:

“I am very proud of you. And you are a good man. And I love you so much. But I’m so mortified, son. This place is good for us. And I’m mortified that you want to be part of the strike. We came from Mexico. That is not a good place for us. We just got back from there, and there is a revolution. We have to stay here. You have a good job…rights are important, but our family is more important, son. That we are together. They can hurt you, son. You know that I’ve lost one son…listen to me, please. I don’t want to lose you. Don’t be a part of the strike, son.”

Imagine that your child (or parent) was contemplating joining the strike. What would you say to them? How about if your child (or parent) was volunteering to be deputized? What would you say in that case?

Each side of the conflict accused the other of being “unpatriotic.” How do you define patriotism? Were the striking workers unpatriotic? How about the mine owners and managers?

How do you think the mine owners developed an alliance with many of Bisbee’s middle- and working-class residents in opposition to the immigrant mine workers? How do you think these anti-union residents felt about the owners and the immigrant workers before the strike? What role do you think race played in these dynamics? Is there a way to reframe the conversation to consider the shared interests of the deputized citizens and the deportees?

During the recreation, Dick Graeme, a defender of the mining company’s actions, realizes, “When you replay something like this, and you do it, it’s very disturbing. With these weapons, at the ready like this, herding people like cattle? It’s just wrong, it feels wrong. To me right now, it feels wrong.” How do you think participating in the reenactment changed the way people thought about their town and its history?

Commemoration committee member Mike Anderson says, “I think everyone also has to own up in this world when they really screw up, when they do something bad. That has not quite happened yet.” In your view, what is the role of reenactment and commemoration in healing the town and the descendants of the families involved?

Chris Dietz, a member of the commemoration committee recalls, “We had been talking about a reenactment for years. And some of the reaction was, well that trivializes the event.” Do you share that concern?

Aaron Gain acts in Tombstone, Arizona’s OK Corral show and also plays IWW organizer, A.S. Embree, in the Bisbee re-enactment. What are the differences between the two re-creations and how do those differences influence the effects on participants and audience members?

Britt Hanson, who composed a musical about the event, was confronted with the belief that telling both sides of the story was “like telling the other side of the story in the Holocaust.” What do you think? Do the stories of those who died and the stories of those responsible for the deaths both merit re-telling? Are there certain “stories” in history in which reenacting the perspectives of one side is beyond the pale of decency?

The footage of the deportation reenactment intertwined with footage documenting the planning and preparation offers viewers a sort of movie within a movie. How does this format influence your interpretation of the film and the events it documents?

How do the 2017 events in Bisbee illustrate these historical truisms?
History is written by the victors.
History isn’t what happened, it’s what we remember about what happened.

One person summarizes, “The Bisbee deportation seemed to disappear from the town’s history. The story was rarely told or mentioned. It was never referred to in schools, and people who remembered that day did not talk about it. It was understood that Phelps Dodge did not want the story told and that the ghosts of the past should remain buried. In a company town, the company makes the rules. It was best to move on.” If exiling the strikers was the right thing to do, why would those responsible for it want the story to “remain buried”? How might the silence have affected the town and the descendants of those involved? Who benefits and who is harmed by the approach that “the past should remain buried” and everyone should “move on”?

Commemoration committee member Chris Dietz says, “It’s not just that American kids aren’t getting labor history, or Bisbee kids don’t know anything about the deportation, but it’s that nobody knows any of our history at all.” Before viewing the film, what did you know about the Bisbee deportation? How about other resistance by workers? In your view, should the study of labor history be required in U.S. schools?

Is there an event in your own community’s history that has been “buried” and should be brought to light? How might your community revisit that event’s history in a collaborative and public way?

Artist Laurie McKenna creates an exhibit featuring individual deportees. What can artists do to evoke memory that is different from what a history teacher, book, or museum can do?

Why do you think they called it a “deportation”? What difference does a label make?

Katherine Benton-Cohen, the scholar who worked with Robert Greene on the film, posed the following question: “As professional historians, especially those with significant privilege, what do we owe the people and places we study?” Consider how power imbalances shape the relationship between scholars and the communities they study. How do you think historians should enlist a community’s current residents as collaborators in the researching and telling of history? Are there limits to how much local stakeholders should have a say in how their history is told?

Bisbee mayor David Smith notes that in this former “company town,” many people still believe that the mines will come back and that the companies “will never let anything [bad] happen to us.” He is skeptical. In your view what, if anything, does a corporation that once ran a company town owe the town and its people when it decides to shut down operations? How can the mythology of a company town continue to shape the residents’ economic and social identities after the company has shut down?

Defending Walter Douglas, head of the mining company and the person that Graeme plays in the reenactment, Dick Graeme says, “You hit a point where you have to make a decision between what is right and what is legal. They’re not always the same. And you must always do what is right.” Can you think of other contexts in which this argument has been made? Are they similar or different from this one? What criteria would you use to make a decision if confronted with a choice between doing what is right and doing what is legal? How would your criteria strengthen or weaken the equitable rule of law going forward?

When reenactor James comments that it “seemed like everyone that came here pretty much tried to assimilate to the culture that we had established already,” Fernando pushes back: “Well it’s not like they [Mexicans]… came here, you know? It’s the white people that came here, so then they brought these customs to them.” Who is the “we” in James’ account? Where do you see the consequences of a having population that doesn’t know their own region’s (or country’s) history?

The Greenway School, where Richard Hodges works, is named for a mine manager indicted for – but never convicted of – kidnapping and conspiracy for his role in the deportation. If you were a student or parent in the school district, would you favor re-naming the school? Why or why not?

• How might the film influence people’s thinking on any of these current issues?
• anti-union laws and initiatives, often labeled as “Right to Work” policies
  immigration policy
• minimum wage standards
• local governments that pass favorable policies or offer financial incentives to help companies that promise jobs
• mining companies that cause environmental damage

At the end of your discussion, to help people synthesize what they’ve experienced and move the focus from dialogue to action steps, you may want to choose one of these questions:

This story is important because ___________.

What did you learn from this film that you wish everyone knew? What would change if everyone knew it?

If you could require one person (or one group) to view this film, who would it be? What do you hope their main takeaway would be?

What question(s) do you think the filmmaker was trying to answer? Do you think he found the answers he was looking for?

Complete this sentence: I am inspired by this film (or discussion) to __________.

Additional media literacy questions are available on the AmDoc website.

If the group is having trouble generating their own ideas, these suggestions can help get things started:

Host a teach-in about the large employers where you live. Invite scholars and others who witnessed or participated in significant events to examine how the companies treat(ed) their workers, how they influence(d) the development of the town or region, and how their legacy shapes local life today.

Artist Laurie McKenna creates an art exhibit to honor the deportees and to educate others about who they were. Create a public art piece that honors and/or tells the story of an important historical event in your community.

Create and share a video or blog, or write a letter to the editor and/or elected officials describing lessons from the film that provide helpful insights for current debates over immigration or labor policies.

Form a study circle to look at the impact of the U.S.-Mexican War (1846-1848) on Mexican residents of territory annexed by the U.S. or to examine the history of U.S. mining companies and labor unions.

Research the use of immigrant labor in your community, with attention to what safeguards exist to protect workers from exploitation based on race, gender, language ability or citizenship status. Write a letter to a local publication expressing your views about how city, county or state policies can mediate the relationship between employers and immigrant workers.

Bisbee ’17
The film’s official website.

University of Arizona Web Archive: Bisbee Deportation
An online collection of primary sources about the strike, the deportation, and its aftermath, including news accounts from 1917. See also this summary of events based on documents in the archive.

Industrial Workers of the World
The website of the union that organized the strike that precipitated the Bisbee deportation includes historical documents as well as current policies.

Bisbee Mining and Historical Museum: Shattuck Memorial Research Library
Includes a collection of resources on Bisbee’s industrial and cultural history.

Bisbee Mining & Minerals
A collection of history and geology materials curated by Doug Graeme (who appears in the film and manages Copper Queen Mine tours).

The Undesirables Project
Started in 2015, The Undesirables project is comprised of works on paper, pressed pennies, video vignettes, and four informative pamphlets. The central work in the installation are the 1,196 individual rubbings of a 1917 penny which commemorates each man that was kidnapped and banished. Laurie considers the process of making the rubbings as an endurance piece, and the rubbings themselves the resulting monument, "A labor of love for the love of labor."

Lapham’s Quarterly: Two Ways of Looking at the Bisbee Deportation
Written by Katherine Benton-Cohen, professor of history at Georgetown University who served as historical advisor for Bisbee ’17.

Triangle Fire: PBS American Experience
The official website for the PBS documentary, Triangle Fire, with a comprehensive collection of primary sources, photographs, film clips, and insight into the cause and aftermath of the deadliest workplace accident in New York City’s history.

The Library of Congress: Labor for Students
Online activities and background information from the Library of Congress to help students learn more about labor.

American Labor Museum
Offers a range of lesson plans and educational resources on American labor history.

National History Center of the American Historical Association
The NHC offers historical perspectives on current issues, promotes historical thinking, and provides a range of resources for teachers and students

POV Educator Resource for Graven Image – Stone Mountain and Historical Memory: Who Defines the Past?
In this lesson, students use the short film Graven Image to explore the meaning and function of monuments, analyze the role collective historical memory plays in shaping our identities, and engage with monuments in their own communities to better understand the power dynamics that shape public spaces.

“Mexican Workers in the IWW and the PLM. IWW History Project
Excerpt from an essay by historian Devra Weber about indigenous migrants, internationalist workers and Mexican revolutionaries from 1900 to 1920, originally published in an anthology about Mexican Americans in U.S. history.

Writer
Faith Rogow, InsightersEducation.com

Background Research and Reporting
Ione Barrows
Senior Associate, Community Engagement and Education, POV
Based on the scholarship of Katherine Benton-Cohen, professor of history at Georgetown University who served as historical advisor for Bi
sbee ’17.

Guide Producers, POV
Alice Quinlan
Director, Community Engagement and Education, POV

Rachel Friedland
Community Partnerships Associate, POV

Jesus Ian Kumamato
Intern, Community Engagement and Education, POV

Thanks to those who reviewed this guide:

Katherine Benton-Cohen
Professor of History, Georgetown University

Robert Greene
Director and Editor, Bisbee ‘17

Bennett Elliott
Producer, Bisbee ‘17

Charles Bethea
Historian, Bisbee native and film participant

Laurie McKenna
Artist, Bisbee resident and film participant

Mike Anderson
Local historian, Bisbee resident and film participant

This resource was created, in part, with the generous support of the Open Society Foundation.