Begrudgingly, I awoke this morning to attend a “mandatory” 9 AM class because the instructor had written me an email specifically asking me to attend. My attendance record is substandard at best. While walking along the empty streets of Telegraph Avenue, I was well aware that today was International Workers’ Day and the anniversary of the Great American Boycott of 2006, but my main objective was to get my name on the class sign-in sheet and then promptly zone out. From the estimates I’d read in most major newspapers, I was doubtful that this year’s protests would bring out millions, shut down major freeways and make the voices of 12 million undocumented immigrants and their allies heard around the world like the protests of 2006.

However, despite my low expectations I was surprised by the paltry attendance of this major event by the students at the supposed activist capital of the world, UC Berkeley. Last year I remember the campus was nearly shut down as hundreds of students crowded Sproul Plaza, chanting “Si, se puede!” and holding signs that declared: “The Pilgrims Didn’t Have Green Cards!” and “No Human is Illegal!,” all in solidarity with the protests rocking the nation from March to May in 2006 – the largest protests in American history. Instead, this year’s contingent was a jumbled group of 30 or so impassioned students imploring walkers-by to join the boycott. People ignored them, figuring that it was just another ineffectual “Berkeley thing.” Embarrassed and slightly ashamed, I grabbed a flyer and sauntered off to class.

As I shuffled through the door, the graduate student instructor smiled and said with more than a hint of sarcasm, “I’m glad you made it.”

Racked with guilt coming from all sides, I looked at him and said, “Uhm, you know, there’s a boycott of classes today…”

He looked at me incredulously and said, “Dude, are you serious? Don’t walk out. I used to do that shit all of the time and there’s nothing more useless you could do to help immigrants than walking out of class. Trust me.”