Remembering our loved ones: the struggle against the 
						School of the Americas is a testament of our collective 
						memory�
						
						Camila Leiva�
						
						
						
						In November of 2005 I had the 
						opportunity to attend the vigil at the gates of the 
						School of Assassins in Fort Benning, Georgia.�
						
						I was there with college friends to 
						protest that for almost 66 years thousands of Latin 
						American military personnel have been trained there, in 
						the �science� of torture and repression.�
						
						That year we were more than six 
						thousand people, from many different parts of the 
						country and the world, and we gathered there with our 
						banners, music, photos, giant puppets, acts of civil 
						disobedience, and a lot of energy, to demand the closing 
						of the School of the Americas.
						
						Like every year, there was a funeral 
						procession in which we named the thousands of people 
						that have been murdered by the military trained in the 
						School of the Americas.�
						
						The procession was a very intense 
						moment, full of sadness but also a great deal of 
						collective strength.�
						
						To hear thousands of people of 
						different races, diverse communities and different 
						countries gather together to yell out �PRESENTE!� after 
						each victim named, is an experience I will never 
						forget.�
						
						I will also not forget the experience 
						because it gave me the opportunity to name and remember 
						my grandmother�s brother, Orlando Letelier, and feel 
						that my family was not alone in our remembrance of 
						him�we were part of a larger movement.�
						
						 When 
						I heard by great uncle�s name, I felt a huge personal 
						connection to him and remembered the true reason I was 
						there. �
When 
						I heard by great uncle�s name, I felt a huge personal 
						connection to him and remembered the true reason I was 
						there. �
						
						While it was my political commitment 
						that had taken me to Fort Benning, I realized, in the 
						process, that like many other Latin Americans, the 
						existence of the School of the Americas had also 
						affected my family and me on a personal level.�
						
						The murder of my great uncle has 
						deeply affected generations of my family. The act of 
						terrorism that took Orlando�s life caused trauma and 
						pain, but it also generated a commitment to dedicating 
						our lives to the work to which he dedicated his life: to 
						create a more just and democratic Chile that is free of 
						U.S. government control.�
						
						My grandmother, Fabiola Letelier, is 
						part of this fight. As a lawyer she continues to defend 
						human rights to this day. Now it is our turn, the 
						children and grandchildren of the rebellious spirit that 
						was generated by this dark history, to keep fighting for 
						the justice that our family members and our people were 
						working towards.�
						
						For me, there is no clearer objective 
						than closing the School of the Americas and demanding 
						that our governments stop sending military to train 
						there. Six countries in Latin American have said �NO!� 
						to the School of the Americas and have publicly removed 
						their soldiers. We must grow our movement so that all 
						the countries in our continent stop sending soldiers to 
						the School of Assassins.�
						�
						
						
						
						
						The gates of Fort Benning, covered with crosses and the 
						names of the victims of the School of Assassins.
						
						
						.
						
						
						Camila and her university friends, listening to the 
						different speakers of the vigil.
						
						
						
						
						Camila (on the right) with her university friends in 
						front of the gate, which is in the background.
						
						
						
						
						Funeral procession from the 2005 vigil, always full of 
						art and giant puppets.