Thursday, February 27, 2014
The id Post: Arizona: Still Crazy After All These Years; And St...
The id Post: Arizona: Still Crazy After All These Years; And St...: by Irene Daniel I was born and raised in the Grand Canyon State and I don't mind telling you: I still miss it a lot. Four Generations ...
Arizona: Still Crazy After All These Years; And Still Beautiful Too
by Irene Daniel
I was born and raised in the Grand Canyon State and I don't mind telling you: I still miss it a lot. Four Generations of Cervantes' were born there, my son still lives there and my mother is buried there. And one of the best things about AZ right this minute is Major League Baseball Spring Training -- Cactus League. Other than my son's little league games, the most fun I ever had at a baseball game was at spring training. This time next week, the Cactus League will be in full swing. If you're in the vicinity and you've never been -- you are missing out!
And I miss the Sonora desert this time of year. It's really beautiful, especially after a big rain. The spring desert blooms from February through June. I miss the smell of the orange blossoms, which once perfumed the entire state this time of year. I miss the screaming yellow blossoms of the Palo Verde, AZ's state tree. And most of all of course, I miss my son.
What I do not miss about AZ is it's tendency to go Dixie crazy at the worst possible moment. I am, of course, elated that Governor Brewer vetoed SB 1062, but appalled that such proposed legislation made it that far, causing AZ another national embarrassing moment: MLK Day, SB 1070 and now SB 1062, which Governor Brewer had the good sense, or enough economic fear, to veto. I remember when I was in law school and how people in LA looked at me funny when I told them I was from AZ. I had to reassure them that the state legislature does not accurately represent the values of all of its citizens; just the richest ones.
27 years ago, I was busy at my desk in the Arizona State Senate, working as a legislative intern to the Health and Welfare Committee. It was during the time of Governor Evan Mecham, an even crazier era than now, if you can imagine it. At that time, the only full-time analysts were assigned to the committees, not individual senators. We interns gathered information, researched proposed legislation and its impact and compiled Facts Sheets, which we distributed, not only to our committee members, but to the entire senate as well. I remember distributing our Fact Sheets on Friday afternoons, and my then 6-year old helped me deliver them to all the senators. We were also responsible for lining up the testimony for committee hearings. While it's been a while, I doubt that the information gathering process is worse than it was then.
That's why when I heard Senator Steve Pierce declare on national television that he really didn't understand the impact of the bill, I knew he was lying. Or he didn't read the research, or his staff sucks, or he is just inept. Or, they thought they could get away with it. Moreover, as with any large legislative body, the AZ legislature has the Office of the Legislative Counsel (or leg counsel, as we would say) to advice the senators and representatives of the legal consequences and/or constitutionality of any proposed legislation. AZ may be backward politically, but it's not due to lack of information; just lack of compassion and insight.
As I watched the news last night and saw the scene in front of the State Capitol Building with its famous copper dome, I couldn't help but to go back there in my memory. The staff parked across the
street and we would walk across Washington Street to get to the building. I remember how warm it would be this time of year already, and how it seemed to effect dispositions in a positive way. I remember Mary, who ran the snack shop and the sine di pool. I remember my son working with me on Friday afternoons after his father dropped him off; and how happy I am that we have that memory together. It was my last semester of college before moving away to the City of Angels.
And I remember the craziness of the old cowboy mentality in the state legislature. It was true then and it's true now. You see, AZ was settled largely by white southerners with a Dixie mentality. After the Civil War, Yankees were dispatched to govern the dusty territory, and that dichotomy lives on today; although the settlers are now largely elderly retired whites from the south and Midwest -- the new Dixie. The power of the United Mine Workers was once felt in AZ before copper went bust in the 1970s and unions gave way to the "right to work" mentality of the GOP and ALEC.
So, my beloved desert is filled, still and again, with those who come from another place, who do not understand the beauty of the delicate natural balance, and its sweet nuance. With those who must come in and "right" everything, adjusting the natural balance to suit their own needs. And so, the balance is disrupted, and the subtle beauty of the mystical desert is marred by interlopers and carpetbaggers, yet again.
But I have hope for the land of my birth. There are a lot of good and decent people in AZ who are tired of being a national joke. The xenophobic history of the Grand Canyon State is about to be written anew in the 21st century. In the time since SB1070 passed, AZ's Latino voter registration increased by almost 500%. Moreover, the older and whiter population around the nation is declining, and being replaced by Latinos and millennials, who will not tolerate legalized discrimination. AZ will become purple, if not blue by 2020. As will much more of the nation if the GOP can't find a way to stop insulting nonwhites and women.
I used to wonder how people from the south could defend it, with its racist and violent past. But now I know. Home is home. And wherever home is, there are always good memories and good people there. There is always love where home is.
Arizona -- I still love you, craziness and all.
I was born and raised in the Grand Canyon State and I don't mind telling you: I still miss it a lot. Four Generations of Cervantes' were born there, my son still lives there and my mother is buried there. And one of the best things about AZ right this minute is Major League Baseball Spring Training -- Cactus League. Other than my son's little league games, the most fun I ever had at a baseball game was at spring training. This time next week, the Cactus League will be in full swing. If you're in the vicinity and you've never been -- you are missing out!
And I miss the Sonora desert this time of year. It's really beautiful, especially after a big rain. The spring desert blooms from February through June. I miss the smell of the orange blossoms, which once perfumed the entire state this time of year. I miss the screaming yellow blossoms of the Palo Verde, AZ's state tree. And most of all of course, I miss my son.
What I do not miss about AZ is it's tendency to go Dixie crazy at the worst possible moment. I am, of course, elated that Governor Brewer vetoed SB 1062, but appalled that such proposed legislation made it that far, causing AZ another national embarrassing moment: MLK Day, SB 1070 and now SB 1062, which Governor Brewer had the good sense, or enough economic fear, to veto. I remember when I was in law school and how people in LA looked at me funny when I told them I was from AZ. I had to reassure them that the state legislature does not accurately represent the values of all of its citizens; just the richest ones.
27 years ago, I was busy at my desk in the Arizona State Senate, working as a legislative intern to the Health and Welfare Committee. It was during the time of Governor Evan Mecham, an even crazier era than now, if you can imagine it. At that time, the only full-time analysts were assigned to the committees, not individual senators. We interns gathered information, researched proposed legislation and its impact and compiled Facts Sheets, which we distributed, not only to our committee members, but to the entire senate as well. I remember distributing our Fact Sheets on Friday afternoons, and my then 6-year old helped me deliver them to all the senators. We were also responsible for lining up the testimony for committee hearings. While it's been a while, I doubt that the information gathering process is worse than it was then.
That's why when I heard Senator Steve Pierce declare on national television that he really didn't understand the impact of the bill, I knew he was lying. Or he didn't read the research, or his staff sucks, or he is just inept. Or, they thought they could get away with it. Moreover, as with any large legislative body, the AZ legislature has the Office of the Legislative Counsel (or leg counsel, as we would say) to advice the senators and representatives of the legal consequences and/or constitutionality of any proposed legislation. AZ may be backward politically, but it's not due to lack of information; just lack of compassion and insight.
As I watched the news last night and saw the scene in front of the State Capitol Building with its famous copper dome, I couldn't help but to go back there in my memory. The staff parked across the
street and we would walk across Washington Street to get to the building. I remember how warm it would be this time of year already, and how it seemed to effect dispositions in a positive way. I remember Mary, who ran the snack shop and the sine di pool. I remember my son working with me on Friday afternoons after his father dropped him off; and how happy I am that we have that memory together. It was my last semester of college before moving away to the City of Angels.
And I remember the craziness of the old cowboy mentality in the state legislature. It was true then and it's true now. You see, AZ was settled largely by white southerners with a Dixie mentality. After the Civil War, Yankees were dispatched to govern the dusty territory, and that dichotomy lives on today; although the settlers are now largely elderly retired whites from the south and Midwest -- the new Dixie. The power of the United Mine Workers was once felt in AZ before copper went bust in the 1970s and unions gave way to the "right to work" mentality of the GOP and ALEC.
So, my beloved desert is filled, still and again, with those who come from another place, who do not understand the beauty of the delicate natural balance, and its sweet nuance. With those who must come in and "right" everything, adjusting the natural balance to suit their own needs. And so, the balance is disrupted, and the subtle beauty of the mystical desert is marred by interlopers and carpetbaggers, yet again.
But I have hope for the land of my birth. There are a lot of good and decent people in AZ who are tired of being a national joke. The xenophobic history of the Grand Canyon State is about to be written anew in the 21st century. In the time since SB1070 passed, AZ's Latino voter registration increased by almost 500%. Moreover, the older and whiter population around the nation is declining, and being replaced by Latinos and millennials, who will not tolerate legalized discrimination. AZ will become purple, if not blue by 2020. As will much more of the nation if the GOP can't find a way to stop insulting nonwhites and women.
I used to wonder how people from the south could defend it, with its racist and violent past. But now I know. Home is home. And wherever home is, there are always good memories and good people there. There is always love where home is.
Arizona -- I still love you, craziness and all.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
The id Post: The Great Society & Me: Part 3 -- My Professional ...
The id Post: The Great Society & Me: Part 3 -- My Professional ...: by Irene Daniel My first job ever was created by The Great Society (TGS). That's right, my very first job was created by the governmen...
The Great Society & Me: Part 3 -- My Professional Life
by Irene Daniel
My first job ever was created by The Great Society (TGS). That's right, my very first job was created by the government. Every time I hear Republicans say that government doesn't create jobs, I just want to cringe; especially those whose salaries are paid by our tax dollars, like Senators and Congressional Representatives. Governments all over the world create jobs every day in order to service the public demand for things like schools, libraries, parks, cops, streets, electricity -- stuff like that. Government is not the answer to every problem, but it can be a support system and an enabler of the dreams of its citizens. It can do things that private industry cannot, and visa versa.
But back to me and my job history. I was 13 years old and it was the summer between Jr. High and High School. I worked as a clerical assistant to the executive secretary of the local hospital administrator. I learned how to type and make copies (on a mimeograph machine, no less), as well as running errands and proofreading copy. When the summer was over, I worked after school in my high school superintendent's office doing pretty much the same kind of work. I gained valuable skills, good work habits and good references that would make me more marketable and competitive later on in life. My teen-age jobs all originated in TGS via Sargent Shriver's Job Corps; which manifested in my neighborhood as the Neighborhood Youth Corps.
My brothers both had teenage employment opportunities afforded them by TGS. My older brother, Gilbert, worked as a TA for HeadStart when it first began; and David worked after school assisting the janitor in our high school, another Youth Corps job. Far from just providing spending money, our earnings enabled us to be self-supporting at a young age, paying for our own school needs and clothes. This left more money for my mother to pay household bills and buy food.
I also worked in private industry, as did my brothers, in our youth. I worked at a trophy shop (you wouldn't believe how cheap those trophies are that your kids bring home), at a Baskin-Robbins (I gained 20 pounds, no lie), and eventually ended up at the Maricopa County General Hospital (now the Maricopa Medical Center), where I worked for a few years as ward clerk; another government job. Since we were always understaffed and underfunded, I worked really hard at being, sort of the Radar O'Reilly of the nursing unit. I learned that keeping records straight helps save lives. I also worked in several of the private hospitals in the Valley of the Sun, as I worked my way through college.
My professional path includes several instances where education and work combine and collaborate. For example, my final semester in college I worked as a Legislative Intern in the Arizona State Senate, for which I received a small stipend and college credit. At that time, only the committees were staffed with analysts. The Senators only had administrative assistants, but no other staff members dedicated to their individual offices. Here again, the work was demanding and eye-opening, as well as providing a stepping stone to further achievement; say UCLA Law School.
Even though I was warned over and over again not to try to work and go to law school too, I just couldn't afford it. Living on the west side here in the City of Angles is not cheap, unless you want to live far away from Westwood in a crappy neighborhood. So, I worked at the law school as the Public Interest Coordinator, another job created by the government of the State of California.
After my 1st year of law school, I earned a Public Interest Law Foundation (PILF) grant to work for the National Health Law Program (NHELP), which is funded by Legal Services Corporation; another Sargent Shriver brainstorm. Yet another opportunity created by TGS, to which my success is owed can be traced to TGS. NHELP provided legal services to the indigent in matters affecting their health. We successfully sued the State of California by forcing Medi-Cal to pay for preventative care, including root canals; rather than wait for the patient's teeth to begin to fall out and then pay for extractions and dentures. We saved the state money, and saved our client's teeth. How many ripple effects from TGS are evident in this one example, from one story, from one program -- one branch of the tree that was TGS?
In my 3rd year at UCLAW, I had the tremendous honor and privilege to work in the chambers of the Honorable Arthur L. Alarcon, Associate Justice of United States Appellate Court for the Ninth Circuit, as a Judicial Extern. Here again is another government job created by the United States for the support of its courts. This was truly the hardest job I ever loved. I earned the privilege to be there by climbing just about every branch of that Great Society tree -- from volunteering at HeadStart, to the Job Corps, to the educational opportunities I shared last week, to NHELP, to the chambers of a federal judge. And this professional story is just beginning.
After graduation, I worked at the LA County District Attorney's Office for a couple of years. Yes -- another government job. The experience and life-long friendships that I gained here are simply beyond fathom. The courtroom skills gained here were very useful to me in my later work as a Managing Attorney for the Los Angeles Center for Law & Justice (LACLJ), and Directing Attorney for the San Pedro Community Legal Services; both funded by that TGS gift that keeps on giving -- Legal Services Corporation.
I have also worked in the private sector as an attorney for small firms, as well as my own private practice, which I maintained as a solo practice for over a decade. I am very acquainted with both the public and private practice of law, and I appreciate the challenges of owning and operating a small business from day to day. I understand the difficulty in finding good staff and cultivating a positive working environment. I know what it is like to create a business that can support, not only me, but the staffing and infrastructure that enables success and profit.
Because I know what it is like to live hand to mouth, I paid my legal assistant a very competitive wage because I didn't want her worrying about how she was going to pay her light bill. I wanted her to worry about me, and how can we get the right kind of business in here to pay our office light bill. I knew that in order to make money, I had to spend money. I had to invest in my employees, just as TGS had invested in me, in my humanity. I didn't like being poor, but I never believed that making money by exploiting others looked like success to me either.
My experience has shown me that I needn't sacrifice my humanity in order to succeed. In fact, quite to the contrary, my experience in, through and beyond TGS, has demonstrated to me over and over again that investing in the humanity of another living soul, is an investment in the future well-being of the entire community.
And I offer as an example of what I mean, Mendoza v. Rast Produce Co., Inc. (2006) 142 Cal.App.4th 1395. This is a case in which I successfully appealed a Superior Court decision on behalf of my clients, the Mendoza Family Farms in Tulare County, CA. In this case I represented farmers, which having come from a community of cotton farmers, among other things, felt so comfortable to me. But more importantly, I was able to marshal all of the skills I'd learned and talents I'd honed throughout my life, and as I'd climbed that tree of TGS, and apply them to this one case. It was truly a David and Goliath atmosphere. My opposing counsel had been practicing law longer than I had been alive at that point; and was visibly unhappy following our oral arguments at the courthouse in Fresno.
However, the greatest victory about Mendoza is that it gives plaintiffs' attorneys an opportunity to challenge certain judgments not in their favor, procedurally and substantively. I could give you the long legal explanation, but suffice it to say that it is a good thing. And it was brought to you by: The Great Society, which was brought to you by Lyndon Johnson and Sargent Shriver.
Can you count the ripple effects of TGS, just from this one story? I'll bet if you look closely around your community, talk to your neighbors, friends and co-workers, you will find countless ways that TGS is present somehow. You will discover that among you there are alums of HeadStart, there are those who got Pell grants, or benefitted from affirmative action. In fact, the greatest beneficiaries of affirmative action are not non-whites at all, but white women. And we all know somebody who's on Medicare, don't we?
TGS also had a parting gift for my mother. From diagnoses to deathbed was about 6 weeks for my mom. Her Medicare plan afforded her the month of hospice care that she needed in her final days. TGS permitted my mother to die with dignity in her own home where she had raised 3 children, who became tax-payers, job creators and volunteers; contributions to a great nation, from TGS.
How many gifts from TGS show up in your life every day? Most of them, you probably can't even see. But that doesn't mean they're not there, still giving and re-giving every day.
My first job ever was created by The Great Society (TGS). That's right, my very first job was created by the government. Every time I hear Republicans say that government doesn't create jobs, I just want to cringe; especially those whose salaries are paid by our tax dollars, like Senators and Congressional Representatives. Governments all over the world create jobs every day in order to service the public demand for things like schools, libraries, parks, cops, streets, electricity -- stuff like that. Government is not the answer to every problem, but it can be a support system and an enabler of the dreams of its citizens. It can do things that private industry cannot, and visa versa.
But back to me and my job history. I was 13 years old and it was the summer between Jr. High and High School. I worked as a clerical assistant to the executive secretary of the local hospital administrator. I learned how to type and make copies (on a mimeograph machine, no less), as well as running errands and proofreading copy. When the summer was over, I worked after school in my high school superintendent's office doing pretty much the same kind of work. I gained valuable skills, good work habits and good references that would make me more marketable and competitive later on in life. My teen-age jobs all originated in TGS via Sargent Shriver's Job Corps; which manifested in my neighborhood as the Neighborhood Youth Corps.
My brothers both had teenage employment opportunities afforded them by TGS. My older brother, Gilbert, worked as a TA for HeadStart when it first began; and David worked after school assisting the janitor in our high school, another Youth Corps job. Far from just providing spending money, our earnings enabled us to be self-supporting at a young age, paying for our own school needs and clothes. This left more money for my mother to pay household bills and buy food.
I also worked in private industry, as did my brothers, in our youth. I worked at a trophy shop (you wouldn't believe how cheap those trophies are that your kids bring home), at a Baskin-Robbins (I gained 20 pounds, no lie), and eventually ended up at the Maricopa County General Hospital (now the Maricopa Medical Center), where I worked for a few years as ward clerk; another government job. Since we were always understaffed and underfunded, I worked really hard at being, sort of the Radar O'Reilly of the nursing unit. I learned that keeping records straight helps save lives. I also worked in several of the private hospitals in the Valley of the Sun, as I worked my way through college.
My professional path includes several instances where education and work combine and collaborate. For example, my final semester in college I worked as a Legislative Intern in the Arizona State Senate, for which I received a small stipend and college credit. At that time, only the committees were staffed with analysts. The Senators only had administrative assistants, but no other staff members dedicated to their individual offices. Here again, the work was demanding and eye-opening, as well as providing a stepping stone to further achievement; say UCLA Law School.
Even though I was warned over and over again not to try to work and go to law school too, I just couldn't afford it. Living on the west side here in the City of Angles is not cheap, unless you want to live far away from Westwood in a crappy neighborhood. So, I worked at the law school as the Public Interest Coordinator, another job created by the government of the State of California.
After my 1st year of law school, I earned a Public Interest Law Foundation (PILF) grant to work for the National Health Law Program (NHELP), which is funded by Legal Services Corporation; another Sargent Shriver brainstorm. Yet another opportunity created by TGS, to which my success is owed can be traced to TGS. NHELP provided legal services to the indigent in matters affecting their health. We successfully sued the State of California by forcing Medi-Cal to pay for preventative care, including root canals; rather than wait for the patient's teeth to begin to fall out and then pay for extractions and dentures. We saved the state money, and saved our client's teeth. How many ripple effects from TGS are evident in this one example, from one story, from one program -- one branch of the tree that was TGS?
In my 3rd year at UCLAW, I had the tremendous honor and privilege to work in the chambers of the Honorable Arthur L. Alarcon, Associate Justice of United States Appellate Court for the Ninth Circuit, as a Judicial Extern. Here again is another government job created by the United States for the support of its courts. This was truly the hardest job I ever loved. I earned the privilege to be there by climbing just about every branch of that Great Society tree -- from volunteering at HeadStart, to the Job Corps, to the educational opportunities I shared last week, to NHELP, to the chambers of a federal judge. And this professional story is just beginning.
After graduation, I worked at the LA County District Attorney's Office for a couple of years. Yes -- another government job. The experience and life-long friendships that I gained here are simply beyond fathom. The courtroom skills gained here were very useful to me in my later work as a Managing Attorney for the Los Angeles Center for Law & Justice (LACLJ), and Directing Attorney for the San Pedro Community Legal Services; both funded by that TGS gift that keeps on giving -- Legal Services Corporation.
I have also worked in the private sector as an attorney for small firms, as well as my own private practice, which I maintained as a solo practice for over a decade. I am very acquainted with both the public and private practice of law, and I appreciate the challenges of owning and operating a small business from day to day. I understand the difficulty in finding good staff and cultivating a positive working environment. I know what it is like to create a business that can support, not only me, but the staffing and infrastructure that enables success and profit.
Because I know what it is like to live hand to mouth, I paid my legal assistant a very competitive wage because I didn't want her worrying about how she was going to pay her light bill. I wanted her to worry about me, and how can we get the right kind of business in here to pay our office light bill. I knew that in order to make money, I had to spend money. I had to invest in my employees, just as TGS had invested in me, in my humanity. I didn't like being poor, but I never believed that making money by exploiting others looked like success to me either.
My experience has shown me that I needn't sacrifice my humanity in order to succeed. In fact, quite to the contrary, my experience in, through and beyond TGS, has demonstrated to me over and over again that investing in the humanity of another living soul, is an investment in the future well-being of the entire community.
And I offer as an example of what I mean, Mendoza v. Rast Produce Co., Inc. (2006) 142 Cal.App.4th 1395. This is a case in which I successfully appealed a Superior Court decision on behalf of my clients, the Mendoza Family Farms in Tulare County, CA. In this case I represented farmers, which having come from a community of cotton farmers, among other things, felt so comfortable to me. But more importantly, I was able to marshal all of the skills I'd learned and talents I'd honed throughout my life, and as I'd climbed that tree of TGS, and apply them to this one case. It was truly a David and Goliath atmosphere. My opposing counsel had been practicing law longer than I had been alive at that point; and was visibly unhappy following our oral arguments at the courthouse in Fresno.
However, the greatest victory about Mendoza is that it gives plaintiffs' attorneys an opportunity to challenge certain judgments not in their favor, procedurally and substantively. I could give you the long legal explanation, but suffice it to say that it is a good thing. And it was brought to you by: The Great Society, which was brought to you by Lyndon Johnson and Sargent Shriver.
Can you count the ripple effects of TGS, just from this one story? I'll bet if you look closely around your community, talk to your neighbors, friends and co-workers, you will find countless ways that TGS is present somehow. You will discover that among you there are alums of HeadStart, there are those who got Pell grants, or benefitted from affirmative action. In fact, the greatest beneficiaries of affirmative action are not non-whites at all, but white women. And we all know somebody who's on Medicare, don't we?
TGS also had a parting gift for my mother. From diagnoses to deathbed was about 6 weeks for my mom. Her Medicare plan afforded her the month of hospice care that she needed in her final days. TGS permitted my mother to die with dignity in her own home where she had raised 3 children, who became tax-payers, job creators and volunteers; contributions to a great nation, from TGS.
How many gifts from TGS show up in your life every day? Most of them, you probably can't even see. But that doesn't mean they're not there, still giving and re-giving every day.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
The id Post: The Great Society & Me: Part Two -- My Education (...
The id Post: The Great Society & Me: Part Two -- My Education (...: by Irene Daniel My formal education began in Florence, Arizona; the County Seat of Pinal County and 'The Cowboy Cradle of the Southwes...
The Great Society & Me: Part Two -- My Education (Second of a 3-part Series)
by Irene Daniel
My formal education began in Florence, Arizona; the County Seat of Pinal County and 'The Cowboy Cradle of the Southwest.' It is home to the AZ State Prison, too many corporate prisons, the mighty Florence Gophers and the oldest youth rodeo in the nation. When I was growing up there, it was also home to a brand new school, built in the last years of the Eisenhower administration.
I had great teachers. I don't know how the Universe conspired to cause so many talented and dedicated teachers to be located there during the 1960s and 70s, but I am eternally grateful. I loved to read and made good grades and won the English Medal from Mrs. McGeehee in Jr. High. Anyone who knew Mrs. McGeehee would know that such an accomplishment was no small feat. These teachers helped me to lay an educational foundation that would later help me to earn scholarships, internships, externships, awards and myriad opportunities that were very competitive and not easy to attain.
In the mid-60s, federal money from the Great Society began to flow into our town. Being the County Seat and housing state, and that time federal, prisoners who were incorporated into the general population for funding purposes, our community leaders managed to get a lot of money flowing our way. This money was used for projects like HeadStart and Neighborhood Youth Corp, as well as other educational and community services for local residents. At this point, separating work and education into two distinct chapters of my life is difficult because I always worked and supported myself, as well as attending class, whether in Florence, at Mesa Community College, Phoenix College, Arizona State University or UCLA Law School.
For example, Headstart was my very first opportunity to volunteer for community service, as an assistant to the TA, a paid position held by my 16 year-old brother. I was 10. I learned that, no matter how miserable and without I felt, I always had something to offer to someone who needed exactly what I had to contribute. It was more than just baby-sitting for free for me. I learned how to give. So, would you call this education or work experience? The Great Society offered me so many of both.
Even though by the time I got to college, many of the successful Great Society projects had been abandoned, the foundations laid by President Johnson and put into action by Sargent Shriver had taken root enough to continue to encourage and support poor people and ethnic minorities, previously frozen out of American prosperity. The grants and scholarships awarded by various programs, including and especially Affirmative Action, made it possible for those first recipients to pave the way for the next wave of graduates, and so on and so on; Los Diablos de ASU a case in point.
Los Diablos de ASU is a Latino Scholarship Program founded by ASU Latino Alumni for Latino ASU students. It's founders included a number of Latinos, mostly Mexican-American Chicanos, who benefitted from the opportunities to get an education due to the Great Society's investments in their talents during the 1960s. As they began to harvest success for themselves, they were able to use their talents and experience to create more opportunities for those who would come later, like me. I am proud to say that I was one of the very first recipients of the very first scholarships awarded by Los Diablos de ASU. I owe those who came before me a debt of gratitude that I can only pay forward to those who come after me. Without The Great Society, there would have been much less opportunity for them to succeed, and in turn, for them to create opportunities for me.
When I was applying to law schools, UCLA was high on my list, as was Harvard. The confidence I gained from my experience and the honors I was achieving gave me the confidence to apply to Harvard Law School. I didn't get in, but their rejection letter was more encouraging than some of my acceptance letters, and there were several, including UCLA; which, as well you might imagine, was highly competitive.
One of the factors that made my application competitive was my support from the La Raza Law Students Association at UCLA. Before Ward Connerly and his ilk destroyed Affirmative Action in California, UCLA had an excellent Diversity Program. Their Admissions Committee at that time consisted of student representatives from not only La Raza, but also from the Black Law Students Association (BLSA), as well the Asian-Pacific Islander Law Student Association (APILSA); who had voting rights on the committee.
These law student organizations were permitted to review the applications of their respective ethnic groups and lobby the committee for the admission of those whom they felt were the most promising and most likely to contribute to their communities upon graduation. That's right -- these law students had a vote, an equal say to the Deans and scholars on that committee, regarding who they wanted joining their ranks. In order for these dedicated students to become familiar with the applicants, we were invited to come to UCLA for an interview with our respective student groups. Of course, I took advantage of every opportunity to increase my chances of admission, so I accepted the invitation. That was almost 30 years ago this month.
Can you imagine students so devoted to increasing diversity at UCLA that they poured over applications, sent out invitations and interviewed those who chose to participate, in order to effectively lobby for our admission to the entire committee? And a committee of the privileged who actually listened? Since that was the last year that UCLA permitted this practice, I did not have the opportunity to serve those admitted after 1987 in the same manner. What a shame.
I make no apologies for benefitting from Affirmative Action. In fact, I believe that overcoming poverty, racial prejudice and sexism prepared me for the study of law much better than a privileged lifestyle ever could. Moreover, I worked full-time all through college, and cared for my pre-school son, who was just learning to read at that time; an activity I prioritized in our home. I wonder if graduates of Choate would be able to do what I did to get to UCLA Law School. I know that I would have made it, had I their row to hoe. In fact, maybe I would have gotten into Harvard. Could they have mastered mine, however? Could they have navigated a world that was hostile to them with no resources but those one has to create for oneself with the help of others who understand those barriers erected so long ago?
Affirmative Action is not about lowering the rope for anyone. It is about affirming the efforts of those who have not had the privilege of living in a world designed by white males, for the success of white males. It is about recognizing and factoring in the subliminal racism and white male superiority that has been created here in the land of the free and the home of the brave. Whether overt, covert or subliminal, the long-term effects of legalized and institutionalized racism are still with us. Just look at the white backlash from electing an African-American President for the first time; which gave rise to the Tea Party and GOP efforts to suppress the votes of nonwhites because nonwhites know better than to support Republicans whose policies don't support nonwhites. Let's not pretend we're colorblind. We never have been because white people didn't want it that way from the very birth of our nation. Many of them still don't.
Having been admitted to law school, I still needed to make a living. Here again, the lines between work and education are blurred. Even though everyone told me not to, I had to work part-time all through law school, including my first year. I worked in the Law Placement Office, another public job, as the Public Interest Coordinator. After my first year of law school, I was awarded a stipend from the Public Interest Law Foundation (PILF) to work for the National Health Law Program (NHELP), for the summer. NHELP was funded by Legal Services Corporation, another of Sargent Shriver's great ideas that came out of The Great Society.
So you see, when I say that, for me, The Great Society, was the gift that just keeps on giving, I have all of these examples -- and more -- to demonstrate what those words really mean.
(Next week: My Professional Life)
My formal education began in Florence, Arizona; the County Seat of Pinal County and 'The Cowboy Cradle of the Southwest.' It is home to the AZ State Prison, too many corporate prisons, the mighty Florence Gophers and the oldest youth rodeo in the nation. When I was growing up there, it was also home to a brand new school, built in the last years of the Eisenhower administration.
I had great teachers. I don't know how the Universe conspired to cause so many talented and dedicated teachers to be located there during the 1960s and 70s, but I am eternally grateful. I loved to read and made good grades and won the English Medal from Mrs. McGeehee in Jr. High. Anyone who knew Mrs. McGeehee would know that such an accomplishment was no small feat. These teachers helped me to lay an educational foundation that would later help me to earn scholarships, internships, externships, awards and myriad opportunities that were very competitive and not easy to attain.
In the mid-60s, federal money from the Great Society began to flow into our town. Being the County Seat and housing state, and that time federal, prisoners who were incorporated into the general population for funding purposes, our community leaders managed to get a lot of money flowing our way. This money was used for projects like HeadStart and Neighborhood Youth Corp, as well as other educational and community services for local residents. At this point, separating work and education into two distinct chapters of my life is difficult because I always worked and supported myself, as well as attending class, whether in Florence, at Mesa Community College, Phoenix College, Arizona State University or UCLA Law School.
For example, Headstart was my very first opportunity to volunteer for community service, as an assistant to the TA, a paid position held by my 16 year-old brother. I was 10. I learned that, no matter how miserable and without I felt, I always had something to offer to someone who needed exactly what I had to contribute. It was more than just baby-sitting for free for me. I learned how to give. So, would you call this education or work experience? The Great Society offered me so many of both.
Even though by the time I got to college, many of the successful Great Society projects had been abandoned, the foundations laid by President Johnson and put into action by Sargent Shriver had taken root enough to continue to encourage and support poor people and ethnic minorities, previously frozen out of American prosperity. The grants and scholarships awarded by various programs, including and especially Affirmative Action, made it possible for those first recipients to pave the way for the next wave of graduates, and so on and so on; Los Diablos de ASU a case in point.
Los Diablos de ASU is a Latino Scholarship Program founded by ASU Latino Alumni for Latino ASU students. It's founders included a number of Latinos, mostly Mexican-American Chicanos, who benefitted from the opportunities to get an education due to the Great Society's investments in their talents during the 1960s. As they began to harvest success for themselves, they were able to use their talents and experience to create more opportunities for those who would come later, like me. I am proud to say that I was one of the very first recipients of the very first scholarships awarded by Los Diablos de ASU. I owe those who came before me a debt of gratitude that I can only pay forward to those who come after me. Without The Great Society, there would have been much less opportunity for them to succeed, and in turn, for them to create opportunities for me.
When I was applying to law schools, UCLA was high on my list, as was Harvard. The confidence I gained from my experience and the honors I was achieving gave me the confidence to apply to Harvard Law School. I didn't get in, but their rejection letter was more encouraging than some of my acceptance letters, and there were several, including UCLA; which, as well you might imagine, was highly competitive.
One of the factors that made my application competitive was my support from the La Raza Law Students Association at UCLA. Before Ward Connerly and his ilk destroyed Affirmative Action in California, UCLA had an excellent Diversity Program. Their Admissions Committee at that time consisted of student representatives from not only La Raza, but also from the Black Law Students Association (BLSA), as well the Asian-Pacific Islander Law Student Association (APILSA); who had voting rights on the committee.
These law student organizations were permitted to review the applications of their respective ethnic groups and lobby the committee for the admission of those whom they felt were the most promising and most likely to contribute to their communities upon graduation. That's right -- these law students had a vote, an equal say to the Deans and scholars on that committee, regarding who they wanted joining their ranks. In order for these dedicated students to become familiar with the applicants, we were invited to come to UCLA for an interview with our respective student groups. Of course, I took advantage of every opportunity to increase my chances of admission, so I accepted the invitation. That was almost 30 years ago this month.
Can you imagine students so devoted to increasing diversity at UCLA that they poured over applications, sent out invitations and interviewed those who chose to participate, in order to effectively lobby for our admission to the entire committee? And a committee of the privileged who actually listened? Since that was the last year that UCLA permitted this practice, I did not have the opportunity to serve those admitted after 1987 in the same manner. What a shame.
I make no apologies for benefitting from Affirmative Action. In fact, I believe that overcoming poverty, racial prejudice and sexism prepared me for the study of law much better than a privileged lifestyle ever could. Moreover, I worked full-time all through college, and cared for my pre-school son, who was just learning to read at that time; an activity I prioritized in our home. I wonder if graduates of Choate would be able to do what I did to get to UCLA Law School. I know that I would have made it, had I their row to hoe. In fact, maybe I would have gotten into Harvard. Could they have mastered mine, however? Could they have navigated a world that was hostile to them with no resources but those one has to create for oneself with the help of others who understand those barriers erected so long ago?
Affirmative Action is not about lowering the rope for anyone. It is about affirming the efforts of those who have not had the privilege of living in a world designed by white males, for the success of white males. It is about recognizing and factoring in the subliminal racism and white male superiority that has been created here in the land of the free and the home of the brave. Whether overt, covert or subliminal, the long-term effects of legalized and institutionalized racism are still with us. Just look at the white backlash from electing an African-American President for the first time; which gave rise to the Tea Party and GOP efforts to suppress the votes of nonwhites because nonwhites know better than to support Republicans whose policies don't support nonwhites. Let's not pretend we're colorblind. We never have been because white people didn't want it that way from the very birth of our nation. Many of them still don't.
Having been admitted to law school, I still needed to make a living. Here again, the lines between work and education are blurred. Even though everyone told me not to, I had to work part-time all through law school, including my first year. I worked in the Law Placement Office, another public job, as the Public Interest Coordinator. After my first year of law school, I was awarded a stipend from the Public Interest Law Foundation (PILF) to work for the National Health Law Program (NHELP), for the summer. NHELP was funded by Legal Services Corporation, another of Sargent Shriver's great ideas that came out of The Great Society.
So you see, when I say that, for me, The Great Society, was the gift that just keeps on giving, I have all of these examples -- and more -- to demonstrate what those words really mean.
(Next week: My Professional Life)
Thursday, February 6, 2014
The Great Society and Me: Part One -- Childhood (First of a 3-part Series)
by Irene Daniel
There has been much talk lately about income inequality, greed, welfare and the role of government in our capitalist system. I hear a lot of statistics being thrown around. I hear people of varying perspectives quote scripture of one kind or another. This being America, the Bible is looked upon by many as God's word, and is to be revered without question, lest one's sense of morality be suspect. However, these words, whatever their source, mean nothing if they cannot be applied to what people in the here and now are experiencing. How do we apply scripture to real life?
So I thought I'd tell you my story; about poverty, despair and hope, and see what spiritual applications we can find. My parents were divorced in 1962, and in the early 1960s in a predominantly Mexican-Catholic community, this was somewhat taboo. What made it more difficult for my family was the fact that our standard of living took a huge nose-dive after my parents' separation. My father had a good union copper mining job and we enjoyed a nice standard of living when they were still together. Although we were not wealthy, we were just about as well-off as most of our friends and neighbors. Post-divorce, however, was another story.
My father, for whatever reasons -- depression, disability, neglect? -- failed to adequately provide for us by paying his child support on time, or at all. We used to call the child-support checks the "maybe checks." because maybe they'd come, and maybe they wouldn't. Mostly, they didn't.
So, my mother went to work. However, being physically and, I now realize mentally, disabled and crippled with an arthritic right hand, it was impossible for her to keep up with full-time work and caring for her children. She tried baby-sitting and cooking for people, but it was still not enough. We had to go on welfare.
Before there were food stamps, there were USDA surplus commodities that were distributed to families on government assistance. There were big tubs of peanut-butter, canned meat (which we gave or bargained away because even our feral house cat wouldn't eat it), rice, beans, flour and other -- mostly canned, staples. I was always so embarrassed when my mother would send me to pick them up on my bike, which was a Christmas gift from one of the local service organizations, as our family was identified as one of the needy ones in our community. I really felt like a hand-me-down Rose. I remember hoping that my friends wouldn't see me, as they rode by in cars driven by their parents. In this respect, I was very much like my mother.
My mother really hated being dependent upon anyone for anything ever, but she had to feed and care for 3 children by herself and the task was simply beyond her human capacity. My mother didn't really fit into any pattern of life not of her own making, and I finally understand why. But she was always up at dawn and worked hard every day, all day, taking care of us: getting us up in the morning, preparing our meals, washing our clothes, shopping, cleaning and taking care of the yard.
Of course, we helped her all we could, and she was a demanding task master around the house. And we all had jobs. My brothers both started working at the age of 10, in order to bring money into the house for essentials, like groceries and utilities. I began my career at age 13, working as a clerical assistant in our local hospital and high school. We were all self-supporting at a very young age.
Some of theses jobs were working for local small business, but many of them were the result of government programs such as HeadStart and Neighborhood Youth Corps. Yes, government created these jobs to serve the needs of our community by paying young people to do work that needed doing in our community, but was unaffordable to local providers of public services; like hospitals and schools. These jobs also brought in needed income to families like ours, constantly on the brink of financial disaster.
When I hear people talk about poor people as if they are scamming the government, I wonder if those lamenting the laziness of the low income family actually know what it is like to live hand to mouth like we did. I doubt it. And when I hear Newt Gingrich say that school boys should be paid to clean the school to lower costs and "teach them a work ethic," I think of my brother, who had just such a job -- thanks to the Job Corps. Those funds made it possible for my brother to make money to bring home so that my mother could pay the light bill. Moreover, our town didn't need to take the job of school janitor away from a working father in our community. Our high school janitor also drove the school bus and was the father of our classmates. Why put him out of a job?
Another great benefit of the Great Society enjoyed by the Town of Florence was that, with more people having more money in their pockets, the local economy thrived. Our little cow town supported 3 small grocery stories, several gas stations, local restaurants, 2 drug stories, a car dealership, a department store, a five-and-dime and a big lumber yard that was always busy, among others. And, being the County Seat, it was a bustling community. Those were the days when money flowed from government programs to the pockets of the neediest among us. The only problem with Job Corps was that there weren't enough jobs to go around to all the other kids whose families also needed the income, as well as the valuable work experience and "work ethic." I wonder how old Newt Gingrich was when he assumed full responsibility for his own, as well as a family's, expenses. I'll bet he was older than 10, or even 13.
Saving the best for last, the greatest benefit of the Great Society, and the most sustaining still, is the honor of being given the benefit of the doubt when it comes to evaluating one's character. I still remember watching the speech in which LBJ declared a 'war on poverty.' Here was somebody, and not just anybody, but the President of the United States of America, declaring as evil the conditions that kept me and my family in a state of shame and constant angst. It was as though he reached into our living room and said, "I care about what happens to you. I believe that you are better than your current state and I'm going to give you a chance to prove it to me." Wow! I can still remember how we literally danced around the TV because we no longer felt cast off and forgotten. We were valuable. To people who didn't even know us. We mattered enough for the President of the United States to make fighting poverty by creating greater opportunity for those living below the poverty line a legislative and executive priority.
A few years later, I remember Martin Luther King, Jr. announcing the Poor People's Campaign, which planned another march on Washington for the summer of 1968. I remember how hopeful and empowered I felt given all the attention and priority given to people like me, little girls growing up in the middle of nowhere, feeling abandoned and afraid every day. I followed the story and the movement, all the way to what became it's bitter end.
After the assassination of Martin Luther King in April, 1968, the positive energy of the movement really took a hit, but it was still alive. Then, after the assassination of Robert Kennedy in June, it was as though all of whatever air was left in that balloon vanished, along with many of our dreams for peace and prosperity for all. It was as though the heart and soul of the movement had been stabbed and was bleeding to death before our very sad eyes.
When the march finally happened, it was more of a lament than a movement. It rained on a deflated tent city, and the power and energy that had propelled the message forward seemed now forever lost. And then the country elected Richard Nixon and I knew, in my adolescent heart, that a light had gone out in America.
Words of encouragement to disadvantaged youth were replaced by demands for law and order, and evolved to the demonization of the welfare queen by Ronald Reagan. I have always been so grateful that I had a real President who really cared about me when I was a child living in poverty through no fault of my own. I shudder to think about those children growing up in poverty post-Great Society; who are not told that they are valuable, are not told that their country will create opportunities for them where only darkness existed before, and are not valued and cheered-on, as I was in my youth. Instead, they are stopped-and-frisked, shot, assumed to be filled with darkness, and left to their own devices.
It made a huge difference in my life to be valued by my elected government when I was a very sad and angry little girl. The energy of my anger was channeled into work and study, all the way to UCLA Law School. As a result of the opportunities availed to me by The Great Society, my fear and anger were transformed into compassion and eternal gratitude. That is the real victory.
What can we expect of adults, who have been told their entire lives by people who look down on them in presumptuous ignorance, that they are worthless? LBJ and Sargent Shriver were cheerleaders for the poor, for me, for my mother, for my brothers. And for their enduring confidence and love for me, and people like me, they will live forever through the work we do to further their commitment to bringing light to lives darkened by disaster and poverty.
(Next week: Part Two -- My Education)
There has been much talk lately about income inequality, greed, welfare and the role of government in our capitalist system. I hear a lot of statistics being thrown around. I hear people of varying perspectives quote scripture of one kind or another. This being America, the Bible is looked upon by many as God's word, and is to be revered without question, lest one's sense of morality be suspect. However, these words, whatever their source, mean nothing if they cannot be applied to what people in the here and now are experiencing. How do we apply scripture to real life?
So I thought I'd tell you my story; about poverty, despair and hope, and see what spiritual applications we can find. My parents were divorced in 1962, and in the early 1960s in a predominantly Mexican-Catholic community, this was somewhat taboo. What made it more difficult for my family was the fact that our standard of living took a huge nose-dive after my parents' separation. My father had a good union copper mining job and we enjoyed a nice standard of living when they were still together. Although we were not wealthy, we were just about as well-off as most of our friends and neighbors. Post-divorce, however, was another story.
My father, for whatever reasons -- depression, disability, neglect? -- failed to adequately provide for us by paying his child support on time, or at all. We used to call the child-support checks the "maybe checks." because maybe they'd come, and maybe they wouldn't. Mostly, they didn't.
So, my mother went to work. However, being physically and, I now realize mentally, disabled and crippled with an arthritic right hand, it was impossible for her to keep up with full-time work and caring for her children. She tried baby-sitting and cooking for people, but it was still not enough. We had to go on welfare.
Before there were food stamps, there were USDA surplus commodities that were distributed to families on government assistance. There were big tubs of peanut-butter, canned meat (which we gave or bargained away because even our feral house cat wouldn't eat it), rice, beans, flour and other -- mostly canned, staples. I was always so embarrassed when my mother would send me to pick them up on my bike, which was a Christmas gift from one of the local service organizations, as our family was identified as one of the needy ones in our community. I really felt like a hand-me-down Rose. I remember hoping that my friends wouldn't see me, as they rode by in cars driven by their parents. In this respect, I was very much like my mother.
My mother really hated being dependent upon anyone for anything ever, but she had to feed and care for 3 children by herself and the task was simply beyond her human capacity. My mother didn't really fit into any pattern of life not of her own making, and I finally understand why. But she was always up at dawn and worked hard every day, all day, taking care of us: getting us up in the morning, preparing our meals, washing our clothes, shopping, cleaning and taking care of the yard.
Of course, we helped her all we could, and she was a demanding task master around the house. And we all had jobs. My brothers both started working at the age of 10, in order to bring money into the house for essentials, like groceries and utilities. I began my career at age 13, working as a clerical assistant in our local hospital and high school. We were all self-supporting at a very young age.
Some of theses jobs were working for local small business, but many of them were the result of government programs such as HeadStart and Neighborhood Youth Corps. Yes, government created these jobs to serve the needs of our community by paying young people to do work that needed doing in our community, but was unaffordable to local providers of public services; like hospitals and schools. These jobs also brought in needed income to families like ours, constantly on the brink of financial disaster.
When I hear people talk about poor people as if they are scamming the government, I wonder if those lamenting the laziness of the low income family actually know what it is like to live hand to mouth like we did. I doubt it. And when I hear Newt Gingrich say that school boys should be paid to clean the school to lower costs and "teach them a work ethic," I think of my brother, who had just such a job -- thanks to the Job Corps. Those funds made it possible for my brother to make money to bring home so that my mother could pay the light bill. Moreover, our town didn't need to take the job of school janitor away from a working father in our community. Our high school janitor also drove the school bus and was the father of our classmates. Why put him out of a job?
Another great benefit of the Great Society enjoyed by the Town of Florence was that, with more people having more money in their pockets, the local economy thrived. Our little cow town supported 3 small grocery stories, several gas stations, local restaurants, 2 drug stories, a car dealership, a department store, a five-and-dime and a big lumber yard that was always busy, among others. And, being the County Seat, it was a bustling community. Those were the days when money flowed from government programs to the pockets of the neediest among us. The only problem with Job Corps was that there weren't enough jobs to go around to all the other kids whose families also needed the income, as well as the valuable work experience and "work ethic." I wonder how old Newt Gingrich was when he assumed full responsibility for his own, as well as a family's, expenses. I'll bet he was older than 10, or even 13.
Saving the best for last, the greatest benefit of the Great Society, and the most sustaining still, is the honor of being given the benefit of the doubt when it comes to evaluating one's character. I still remember watching the speech in which LBJ declared a 'war on poverty.' Here was somebody, and not just anybody, but the President of the United States of America, declaring as evil the conditions that kept me and my family in a state of shame and constant angst. It was as though he reached into our living room and said, "I care about what happens to you. I believe that you are better than your current state and I'm going to give you a chance to prove it to me." Wow! I can still remember how we literally danced around the TV because we no longer felt cast off and forgotten. We were valuable. To people who didn't even know us. We mattered enough for the President of the United States to make fighting poverty by creating greater opportunity for those living below the poverty line a legislative and executive priority.
A few years later, I remember Martin Luther King, Jr. announcing the Poor People's Campaign, which planned another march on Washington for the summer of 1968. I remember how hopeful and empowered I felt given all the attention and priority given to people like me, little girls growing up in the middle of nowhere, feeling abandoned and afraid every day. I followed the story and the movement, all the way to what became it's bitter end.
After the assassination of Martin Luther King in April, 1968, the positive energy of the movement really took a hit, but it was still alive. Then, after the assassination of Robert Kennedy in June, it was as though all of whatever air was left in that balloon vanished, along with many of our dreams for peace and prosperity for all. It was as though the heart and soul of the movement had been stabbed and was bleeding to death before our very sad eyes.
When the march finally happened, it was more of a lament than a movement. It rained on a deflated tent city, and the power and energy that had propelled the message forward seemed now forever lost. And then the country elected Richard Nixon and I knew, in my adolescent heart, that a light had gone out in America.
Words of encouragement to disadvantaged youth were replaced by demands for law and order, and evolved to the demonization of the welfare queen by Ronald Reagan. I have always been so grateful that I had a real President who really cared about me when I was a child living in poverty through no fault of my own. I shudder to think about those children growing up in poverty post-Great Society; who are not told that they are valuable, are not told that their country will create opportunities for them where only darkness existed before, and are not valued and cheered-on, as I was in my youth. Instead, they are stopped-and-frisked, shot, assumed to be filled with darkness, and left to their own devices.
It made a huge difference in my life to be valued by my elected government when I was a very sad and angry little girl. The energy of my anger was channeled into work and study, all the way to UCLA Law School. As a result of the opportunities availed to me by The Great Society, my fear and anger were transformed into compassion and eternal gratitude. That is the real victory.
What can we expect of adults, who have been told their entire lives by people who look down on them in presumptuous ignorance, that they are worthless? LBJ and Sargent Shriver were cheerleaders for the poor, for me, for my mother, for my brothers. And for their enduring confidence and love for me, and people like me, they will live forever through the work we do to further their commitment to bringing light to lives darkened by disaster and poverty.
(Next week: Part Two -- My Education)
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