The battle over what to do about the nation's estimated 12 million illegal immigrants has prompted hundreds of state and local legislative proposals, colored the presidential campaign and brought tens of thousands of marchers into the streets nationwide in the last two years.
While turnout was light this year, the mood was festive at the Los Angeles marches' three downtown area departure points.
At MacArthur Park, vendors hawked noisemakers, American and Mexican flags and bacon-wrapped hot dogs as Aztec performers danced on a makeshift stage and musicians competed for attention.
At Olympic Boulevard and Broadway, a loud mariachi band led about 1,500 people in an early afternoon procession north to the Civic Center as activists handed out fliers and pushcart owners offered sweating marchers Popsicles, fruit and shaved ice.
While the largely Latino crowd occasionally chanted in Spanish -- "si se puede," yes we can -- immigrants from South Korea, the Philippines, Japan and elsewhere also participated.
"I think it's really important for us to show the broad span of immigrants in Los Angeles," said Bev Tang of Silverlake, of the Filipino youth group Anakbayan. "Filipino immigrants are out here and are part of the struggle."
Rick Oltman, spokesman for the anti-illegal immigration group Californians for Population Stabilization, criticized marchers' calls for a moratorium on raids.
"It is reminding the American people that there is this whole group of people, illegal aliens, who do not want our laws enforced," he said.
But marchers included many legal immigrants. Andres Rivas, 68, a former El Salvador city mayor who received amnesty in the 1980s and is now a naturalized U.S. citizen, said he marched to support those who are still fighting for legal status. He said he was helped by those who fought for him and now, "we have to stand up for those who don't have it today."
Participants also included some of those injured in last year's MacArthur Park melee, when Los Angeles Police Department officers confronted marchers and journalists in a botched attempt to clear out the crowd. One of them was Doris Ochoa, a 40-year-old janitor and illegal immigrant from Mexico, who wore a red shirt and marched near the front of the line with other victims. She said she and her two sons, now 5 and 14, were hurt last year while running from police on motorcycles. Ochoa, who has filed a lawsuit against the city, said she still can't understand why police hurt peaceful protesters.
