IIn 1991 Rafael López, a truly gracious and gallant man who worked to help elect John Olver to Congress, told a local reporter he wanted see a more responsive representation for Latinos.
Back then Olver's spokesman, Michael Meehan, issued a guilt-ridden response to López's query: "John hasn't even been in office 100 days yet. … In an ideal world he'd like to have balanced representation, but his primary goal is to get the most qualified people."
Sixteen years later, Meehan's words continue to echo loudly throughout the halls of Western Massachusetts, be they progressive city halls, clapboard town halls, the halls of higher education or the field offices of well-meaning congressmen. It all sounds like screeching tires and metal crushing and popping into itself: they see the issue as 'qualified' people vs. people of color—as if the two were mutually exclusive. But is it an accident of words and perceptions, or is the continued lack of representation a purposeful denial of changing demographics?
In her almost eight years in office, state Rep. Cheryl Coakley Rivera, D-Springfield, has always had bilingual staff on board. Finally, after 16 years, Olver hired a bilingual staffer for his Holyoke office to serve as a case worker, a Latina liaison. It is a key position, but when will Latinos be hired to be something other than the one who speaks Spanish? Latinos can be legislative aides, budget directors, chiefs of staff and still speak Spanish. It's a skill.
At least when Olver hired a bilingual aide, he didn't bend for tokenism. He hired a brilliant and compassionate woman, Agma Parrilla Sweeney, to be his eyes and ears in the Latino community. It was a smart choice because she is respected across the board in that community. As too many well-intentioned non-Latinos don't know, tokens don't serve anyone well. Ask around.
But why are Rivera and Olver the only two elected officials with bilingual staff in a region with half a million residents, about 100,000 of them Latinos?
I called the offices of U.S. Rep. Richard Neal and Sens. Edward Kennedy and John Kerry to ask, "Does anyone in any of the offices speak Spanish?" The aides didn't need to be Latino, only speak Spanish. And the answers resounded the same in English or Spanish: No. Two of these men even ran for president at one time. Most recently, Kerry wanted to lead a country in which the fastest growing population is Latino, so he agreed to an interview on Univisión, the axis of primal-screaming, over-the-top novelas in Spanish-language TV. In reality land, Neal's district includes Springfield, a city of 150,000 with about 40,000 Latinos.
López is now 73 and a retired human rights commissioner for the town of Amherst. I asked him about 1991 and today.
"The population has been growing by leaps and bounds and there's been no response from the politicians to represent us," he said. "These are the same so-called progressives who are still not paying attention to the Latino community in the district. They pay attention in terms of law enforcement. But there is no recruitment."
The route is straightforward. You hire Latinos as aides, then one day they become legislative aides, then further along they run for office, maybe even win. The mentoring train hasn't been stopping for Latinos. Conductors say they can only find qualified Anglo employees. Really? Does this mean that, after dozens of years in Congress, neither Neal, Kerry nor Kennedy has had an intelligent conversation with a qualified Latino for a position other than as a case worker? Elected officials have to do the groundwork and find people of color. If they can find votes, if they can find pots of money, they can find the right people to work with them.
This is not about tokenism or playing colors against each other. Former Interior Secretary James Watt talked himself out of a job and into history in October, 1983 when he praised himself for appointing a diverse panel. He said he had "every kind of mix you can have. I have a black, I have a woman, two Jews and a cripple."
None of these Congressmen would ever be heard uttering a line like that, but it's unsettling to wonder if people who talk that way are the worst part of all this.
Natalia Muñoz is editor of La Prensa of Western Massachusetts (www.LaPrensaMa.com).
