From my blog Soy/Somos, a series that celebrates the many identities of Latinos in the USA. You can read the introductory post here: Soy/Somos: We Are Many
I came carrying a red folder as I'd said, and he recognized me immediately, though I'd had no idea what he would look like. The man pointed to a small table where he'd planned that we would sit. He was powerfully built. Sweet face. I sat and fiddled with the tape recorder, a little nervous. Here I was again--a stranger--looking into the private moments of someone else's life. He held up a menu. "Would you like something to eat?"
"Maybe we should order coffee, or they'll throw us out."
"No, they won't." He smiled. "I own this place."
And so we started our interview.
"Ni una palabra de inglés when I came to the United States. Not a word of English." Rogelio spoke to me in Spanish, clearly more comfortable in his native language. "My father died when I was 9 months old--he was un locutor de radio. My grandmother raised my brother and me in Ecuador while my mother worked. ...factory jobs...secretary...whatever she could find in the United States until she could bring us with papers.... I only knew my mother by telephone until I was 12."
Rogelio is a chiropractor. He lives in an affluent community in the US where he is one of very few men of Hispanic origin. There are issues of difference that he feels keenly, but he's happy with the life that he and his wife have provided for their children. During our conversation I will learn that his comfort is hard earned with work. As with others whom I've interviewed, Rogelio presents the classic American immigrant story.
"I was fourteen when I arrived. I was to start school in 10th grade but was demoted to 9th because I didn't know English. Math was more advanced in Ecuador, but then Math is its own language. I was placed in a bilingual program. Ciencias was difficult. I got 65 in the first exam; I was going to fail. So I memorized the dictionary. At the next exam the teacher wrote the questions on the board. By the time he finished the last question I had completed the exam, and I got one hundred percent correct. Eso me dio ánimo. I graduated salutatorian in my class in junior high--that's the second highest marks in the class--but the principal didn't allow me to give a speech. He gave the honor to the person who had third place because my English wasn't good enough. When I think about it, como que te arde. It stings."
"My guidance counselor in high school noticed me. He took me out of the bilingual program, put me in regular classes. When I wanted to go on to college and my mother couldn't pay the $50 fee for each application, he applied for waivers for me. He got me 16 waivers. I was accepted in 10 schools. Many too expensive. I went to SUNY in Albany because of the money. They gave me a full ride but I still worked throughout my years in college. I was Resident Assistant, no pay, but got room and board. I ran for office to help with minority recruitment. We worked with ASPIRA in Brooklyn for kids who don't have resources. We'd pick them up in vans and show them options at SUNY.
"Para criar a un nińo se necesita un bloque entero. To raise a child you need an entire square block of people. My mother, my aunt and my brother would send me money when they could and care packages of comida. There was a counselor at SUNY who looked out for me.
"When I went to graduate school in another city I got friendly with the Department Head. I got all A's. He gave me the job of dissecting cadavers--60 hours per week. Then I was made Assistant Professor in the "cadaver lab." On weekends students came to learn. I also got a job teaching anatomy and physiology in a massage school. I washed dishes at a restaurant. I worked as a security guard at a Latin night club. Other students typically borrowed $350,000. I only had to borrow $122,00 paid over thirty years because I worked.
"A mi no me bochorna nada. I feel good in my own skin. Nothing embarrasses me. I don't owe anything to anyone, only to God and my family--and I was lucky that there were people in each place who saw something in me. I am grateful to them."
*
Rogelio, what is good about this country? What needs to change?
"In my mind I believe in una mente abierta--todo el mundo es igual. All people have something to offer. At SUNY I became a member of the one fraternity that was inclusive, though only in our chapter: Jews, Asians, Blacks, Hispanics, Anglos. When we met the larger group at a national meeting, they were shocked. We were influential in other chapters integrating.
I was also part of Fuerza Latina, trying to help Hispanic students. But Hispanics from Fuerza Latina said to me, 'tu te crees blanco.' You think you're white. I was so angry I renounced my membership. God said, we are all the same. We have to accept that we are all alike. When I dissected cadavers, I did not find any with sangre azul. (blood that was blue). Ignorance is the biggest epidemic on both sides.
"Hispanics should maintain their culture, their religion, and say, 'No. No matter what, somos iguales."
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