Why the Case for an Arizona Boycott Isn't So Simple

If you haven't heard about Arizona SB1070, you might have relocated to another planet. Or possibly you've been stuck at home still trying to find your identification papers — which you'd better have on hand next time you encounter police while strolling through the Southwestern state while sporting an amorphous, "illegal immigrant" look.

When proposed, the law — which arguably institutionalizes and mandates racial profiling — was called the harshest anti-immigrant proposal in the country. Arizona's SB1070 is rooted in the same ideology that throughout U.S. history has fueled the displacement and genocide of indigenous communities, justified slavery and upheld separate but equal creeds. Nevertheless, even as I crossed my fingers and lit the seven-day candles from my local immigrant paraphernalia store, on April 23, Arizona Governor Jan Brewer signed it into law.

While the federal government and others consider challenging the bill in court, organizers are calling for a boycott of Arizona and its businesses. I have already received a dozen Facebook invitations ranging from calls to boycott the Arizona Diamondbacks to those supporting a boycott of P.F. Chang's. Given that I already avoid corporate chains when possible and don't know what sport the Diamondbacks play, a boycott isn't that difficult for me to follow through with. Still, I fear we might be treating the boycott strategy as our sole and best approach.

As an organizer, I strongly believe in community-driven responses to legalized racial profiling. And while I share the disgust toward SB1070, I ask that we also be critical of the very responses we develop, including this boycott. I am not against the boycott, and have added Arizona businesses to the list of companies I refuse to patronize. As a descendant of the great grapes boycott, I know this strategy can be effective. Arizona also saw the power of boycotts when it was forced to reconsider its stance on the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday.

All that said, I also recognize that being able to withhold patronage is a privilege. And while refusing to eat at P.F. Chang's is a luxury I can afford, for the working class folks employed by the company, this issue of privilege has real implications. Companies might feel the effects of our collective boycott, but will they respond by shifting their ideological stance and pressuring lawmakers? Or will they follow Wall Street protocol by cutting costs (as in, staff) to minimize shareholder losses? Something tells me shareholder losses will take precedence.

As I raise my fist and keep my wallet's contents from pouring into Arizona and its businesses, I also remember those whose livelihood depends on them. We can't pretend that the most vulnerable won't be affected by this boycott. Remember, there was a reason we boycotted grapes in the 1960s, and not potatoes.

Photo Credit: twicepix