It’s been almost a year since I posted something that became one of my more “popular” posts (in Substack lingo, “popular” means the sum of all the likes and comments—never mind the fact I respond to each person who comments, which adds into the overall total. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why this is so important to some people.)
It was on my mind this week because we’re having some work done by a contractor on our house. The interesting thing about the entire process has been the fact that the person who came to bid the project with us, from the company we ended up choosing, and now the project manager, are both relatively young, white males. The ones doing the actual work of pressure washing, prepping, reconstruction, painting, and final cleanup are all of Hispanic origin.
It was on my mind because, as expected (because I have a history of personal experience), they are working their butts off, are professional in their manner, skilled in their craftsmanship, take pride in their work when complimented, and are incredibly friendly. They are also, in real time, working hard to minimize unforeseen additional costs that always happens during projects like this and have come up with some creative cost-saving ideas. They are also polite as all heck and insure we know when they have arrived and when they will be leaving.
In other words, they are here, in America, doing hard and challenging physical work, in the weather, without complaint but with pride and craftsmanship. The same kinds of characteristics of thousands of others across our once great country who have been hunted down by masked, anonymous men with guns and ICE written on their uniforms.
I look forward to the time when we will do better as a country. When we bring back common sense, kindness, respect, and dignity, and treat other humans as humans. We will do better—but not with the current leadership at the reigns.
I wanted to say this today in lieu of the other post I had drafted because the more stories we experience and talk about, that include positive and meaningful interactions with others who are being demeaned, threatened, and captured without due process, the more we humanize each other and counter the prevailing narrative that these “others” are some kind of demons. The evidence of kindness, compassion, care, pride, sincerity, dedication, and hard work capacity exponentially outnumbers any others who come here to commit crimes.
As one person, in one of the bluest of states no less, I cannot do much to alter the current course of our once great country as it continues to descend towards whatever hell we’re heading toward. But at least I can go out to greet Carlos, Alexandra, Carlo, and Freddy, shake hands, exchange smiles, practice my “poco Español,” continue to thank them for taking such great care of our home, and offer them a cold drink at days end in appreciation for their full day’s effort.
As one person, I can share my personal story. And it IS personal, still. Just like it was when I was growing up on a farm.
We’re becoming a country of impersonalities, not just because we’re being led there, but also because that leadership has uncovered latent racist characteristics that have exposed our ugliness and given us an excuse to not “risk” getting personal with someone who just happened to be born with browner or blacker hues of skin tones—given us permission to make false assumptions that are harmful (to everyone btw). I wonder if Carlos and his crew could find this kind of work, in the way they have, in any of the “Red” states (hell, even in Los Angeles right now!). I wonder, given the new sense of empowerment many feel are now their right, how many homeowners would deny Carlos’ presence in their homes and demand the company send a workforce more akin to their own skin? Yeah, I know, this happens all the time. And I hate that it does.
At least at the end of the day today, I can go out and share my gratitude, see their smiles, and maybe hand them some bottles of chilled sparkling water to quench a hard day’s work thirst. At least I can keep it personal.
Because, remarkably, they’re not afraid to.
Always and Ubuntu,
~ k
🙏🏼 💙
This Is Personal
We’re still in SoCal “enjoying” the 115+°F temps (staying hydrated, lots of iced oatmilk lattes and popsicles and sparkling waters, pool time). The second to last leg of our trip took us on a route from Carmel to Oxnard via California’s historic Highway 101—historic because, for 600 miles of its length, 101 was laid atop The El Camino Real.
Since we moved to Texas, we have used a privately owned lawn care company, Marcos and his dad, and sometimes other family members, mow, trim, gather up the autumn leaves, and always arrive to do their work with the kind of politeness and goodwill you describe. Yesterday it was very hot and humid (which makes it feel hotter). Marcos dropped off his dad to do the mowing, and dad finished early, then stretched out in the shady part of the lawn wish his head resting on one of the bricks that outlines the garden. I knew Marcos would be back for him soon -- I also knew that he'd just mowed the front and the back and it was H-O-T. So I got a bottle of cold waster and approached him. "Senior? Agua fria? I handed him the water, he thanked me in Spanish and didn't mention my limited language skills.
To your point, it is personal. I've known these people for six years now. I like them. They work hard. They are part of my life and my community here. Here's the burn: Texas is a red state. There are no ICE vans cruising the neighborhoods here. The population of Texas is half Latino. Because of Greg Abbot's strong support for the regime in the White House, we don't see the same kind of round-up and disappearing act going on here. It's not like the having the military in Los Angeles, which is a democratic state. The regime takes into account the political leanings of red or blue. It hurts the blue whenever possible. And I take that personally, too.
Even though I did not know my father well, he taught me one thing that I have been blessed to carry with me my entire life. When I was about nine years old and the Civil Rights movement was gaining strength and attention, he told me that it was "wrong to judge another human being by the color of their skin." I never forgot that and I also am still confused why skin color should affect our kindness and caring of one another.
Your essay from a year or so ago got so much traction, because it speaks to a morality consciousness that does not discriminate based on the hue of one's skin. It points out that we are all one people. We are currently living in a history where our moral consciousness is being asked to come forward and speak out for human rights and human dignity. I take that personally too.
Thank you for the enlightening, timely and wonderfully written piece. We should all take it personally.
Thanks for sharing your personal experience. I agree it's important - that sharing our individual experiences is another form of resistance.