I love stories. Here are some untold ones of people that have changed me.
Juan:
I was a groomsman in Juan’s wedding. I remember the pallets of Corona, the quaint Madera winery venue, and the crisp mariachi music. I ended up leaving the wedding early. It was a hot July day, and if you’ve ever been in the Central Valley in the middle of July, you know how brutal it can be. I stayed for the ceremony and the dinner. I did not witness Juan’s mother dancing with him and crying for her son. Surely a combination of pride and mourning her baby leaving the nest. I did not witness Juan’s father throwing his cowboy hat in the air in celebration. I did witness a bridesmaid pass out from the heat.
I wish I had stayed. Juan is often on my mind in times like these.
Juan and his family entered the central valley from Oaxaca, Mexico some time before 2012. That was the year that Juan lived in a dorm room right next door to me. We shared a sink, a toilet, a shower, and many late-night conversations. You learn a lot about a person in such intimate quarters.
Juan was the only college student I knew that went home to the upper central valley every weekend to work in the almond fields for pennies on the dollar.
“Bro, why do you do that?”, I probably naively asked him at one time.
He could’ve responded with “its what I have to do” or “it helps me get by”.
But I will never forget him responding “I feel so lucky that I have the opportunity to better myself. And if this is the price, then I will pay it happily.”
Juan was my first experience with an immigrant family. He now serves on the board for the San Joaquin River Conservancy in Madera and Fresno Counties. His story is not unlike many that you may know.
Marta:
I hired Marta off LinkedIn. This was her first job out of college, and I could tell from her three interviews that she would make a killer junior sales associate. I was excited to have her on my team.
Traditionally, in the ‘power tool sales world’, you pick up your employee from their home, drive them to a designated Enterprise, and drop them off with their fleet vehicle. I picked up Marta from her home in Ivanhoe, California, a place I never knew existed until that morning. Her home was run down, her street littered with stray dogs, and the backyards filled with junk cars that were long forgotten projects.
“So, what do you parents do for work?” I asked in an attempt to understand her living situation.
“Field workers. Citrus. That’s all they’ve ever done. So, I really get a gas card that I don’t have to pay back? That’s not a scam, right?” Her attempt to change the subject did not go unnoticed from me but it revealed something she did not intend on sharing: opportunity and excitement.
Marta commuted every day with an hour drive both ways to Clovis, California. She endured climbing the orange ladders Home Depot is known for, catcalls from sleezy contractors, and having to sell the DIY brand Ryobi, every single day in the same location. Marta quickly became one of my better employees. She was promoted to Territory Manager in a relocation to Bakersfield, where we became colleagues and friends. She then quickly promoted to Regional Recruiting Coordinator with a relocation to Los Angeles, which was a dream location of hers to live in.
She has a bachelor’s degree in communication studies and is a first-generation college student. We have swapped strategies on leadership and have both benefited greatly in our careers from each other’s knowledge and experience. I would call her a friend. Her story is not unlike many that you may know.
Joaquin:
Joaquin taught me (unsuccessfully) the art of the Pati Jinich’s Mexican Thanksgiving Turkey, where you traditionally bury a Turkey in an underground pit and roast it with various spices. Joaquin’s parents also reside in the central valley. I am unsure of their occupation, but I know that they are blue collar.
Joaquin used to laugh at all my jokes. And I in turn would laugh at all of his. We were substitute teachers together at the same time and I always remember him saying “sub life, best life.” We met in college and for a solid 3-year period we were in an inseparable group of people that went to concerts, perused farmer’s markets, went to bar trivia, and even participated in open mic nights at the local Mia Kuppa. Those were some of the best nights of my life. Joaquin always encouraged us to consume less and get out and play with him and his passion: futbol.
Joaquin and I fell out of touch over the following years. Now he resides in Southern California, pursuing a degree in law. He has been an admissions councilor, a government employee, a loving husband, and an adored friend to many. I cannot imagine the sacrifices his parents made and still have to make for the child they love. His story is not unlike many that you may know.
Mariana:
Mariana transferred to my old location in Fresno California from a team in the Bay area. She was my first employee that I did not directly hire. She was my first inheritance.
She viewed her stop in Fresno as temporary and her dreams lied in returning to the central coast with her fiancé. At only 22 years old, Mariana quickly established herself as an outlier. She did not have the sales instinct (and she would admit it herself) but what she lacked there, she made up with in ingenuity and hard work.
At the time, Mariana’s parents were located in southern California. Without fail, she would hop in her car and drive the 5 hour drive every Friday after work. Mariana’s parents ended uprelocating to the lower central valley and eventually to the northern central valley. Mariana and her fiancé paid for materials, labor, permits, and every other conceivable cost of building a house. She did it for her parents, the people that worked to provide a better life for her than they had. She always expressed to me that she thought it was the least she could do after what they had been through for her. They are immigrants from Mexico.
Mariana moved on to work as a business associate development manager in Northern California. Her parent’sdream of owning their own home has been achieved thanks to her hard work and dedication. Mariana owns three houses and accomplished this before the age of 25. Her story is not unlike many that you may know.
....
I have seen the videos of American flags burning in the streets of Los Angeles. I have seen the videos of parents stripped from their children, screaming, begging, pleading to let them hold their children while they are shoved into a van unceremoniously. I have seen the videos of rocks thrown onto police cars from the overpass of Downtown Anaheim. I have seen the videos of people locked in arms, staring down the barrels of guns while they peacefully protest. I remain unconvinced that we have the full story.
I was always eager, always waiting to be inspired. I used to write. And now I am dead. Dead from lack of inspiration. And now I yearn to lift you, my precious reader, into reassurance and peace and hope.
And I can’t give you that now.
I want us to go on. Read that again. I want us to go on! I want Los Angeles to continue. I want California to continue. But we have been sleeping. We have been lied to. And we have been betrayed by a culture that seeks to destroy us in its quest for power. We have allowed ourselves to see what they want us to see. Hear what they want us to hear. And react the way they want us to react. Don’t. Fall. For. It. I beg you.
I don’t need to tell you what I think about what’s going on in Los Angeles. I am sure you can guess where my sympathies lie.
But in case you would like me to speak plainly: My sympathies lie with Joaquin. With Marta. With Mariana. With Juan. The individuals that I have talked to. The stories I have heard. The PEOPLE that I have gotten to know.
Assigning a group of people to a number, to a word, to a phrase, to an adjective is a symptom of authoritarianism. Instead of being quick to assign, be quicker to community. It is what has changed my life. Knowing the individual, rather than the group HAS CHANGED MY LIFE. Sit down with that prostitute. Get to know that tax collector. Talk to that Zealot. Maybe buy them a cup of coffee.
For those of you that don’t know, I claim to be a follower of Jesus Christ. And my favorite aspect was his ability to break down the political climate and replace it with foreign policies. Policies of a political kingdom not of the known world, but of a kingdom designed for perfect harmony, for Christ and his beloved. I will leave you with a quote from scripture. Matthew 25:40: “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”
2020 