Primero de Mayo

IT’S HARD OUT THERE FOR AN anti-illegal immigration activist. Just when you think the long-awaited middle-class “backlash” against the immigrant rights movement will kick in, the hundreds of thousands of peaceful and mostly joyous protesters refuse to live down to your low expectations.

Instead of being dominated by aggressive anarchists bent on “reconquista” and violent confrontation, even Monday’s first march -- the one frowned upon by Cardinal Roger M. Mahony, Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa and other members of the pro-reform establishment -- was yet another passionate and upbeat street party.

We don’t believe students should skip school, and we shared the concern of those who felt a labor walkout might come across as economic blackmail, but the tenor of the day was overwhelmingly positive. Sure, there were a handful of Che Guevara flags sprinkled in the sea of Old Glories, and some protesters tried their best to interest passersby in an upcoming conference on socialism. But those messages were overwhelmed by 40-piece mariachi bands, infectious drum corps and beaming 4-year-old girls sitting on their daddies’ shoulders and waving U.S. flags.

L.A.’s invisible workforce emerged not in a spirit of anger or defiance but with pride and exuberance. It was all so, well, American.

The scale and tenor of the demonstrations have had the salutary and corrective benefit of marginalizing those who conflate Latino immigration with crime, a lack of patriotism, a security threat or any other ill under the sun. Six months ago, opponents of reform drove the political debate. No more.

None of this makes immigration policy easier to concoct. When the world’s leading economy shares a 2,000-mile border with a poor country, it’s a challenge. Even though the United States benefits from immigration as a whole, cities and counties on the front lines can groan under the strain. From the deportation of felons to in-state tuition for undocumented students, the legal to-and-fro of 12 million humans illegally residing in the U.S. presents serious policy issues about which good people can and do disagree.

But when this issue has reared its head in the past, too often debate was driven by an irrational fear and dislike of The Other, leading to policies that represented the darker angels of Americans’ nature. The singular triumph of this spring’s protests is that they have indelibly attached a human face to a debate dominated by dehumanizing words such as “illegals” and “aliens.” And that face brings a message resonant across 230 years: “We want to be one of you.”