I
am an Assistant Professor studying Political Behavior, Race and Ethnic
Politics, Latino Politics, Mobilization, and Partisanship at Northern
Arizona University. I am also a Research Associate at the Leavey Center
for the Study of Los Angeles at Loyola Marymount University.
Like
many Americans, my story begins with one foot on either side of the
Mexico-U.S. border. My mother was born in Los Angeles, and her family
goes back generations on both sides of the border since before the
border existed. Mostly a family of rural origin throughout South-
ern Arizona, New Mexico and Chihuahua, Mexico, the ranchero
lifestyle runs deep on my mother's side. My mother's immediate family
moved to Boyle Heights, CA after my grandfather served in World War II,
where he was awarded a Purple Heart for his wounds in battle in Italy.
Ironically, considering the life expectancy of his unit in Italy (about
50%), my grandfather outlasted everyone.
My
father was born in Mexico City and spent his early childhood in a home
for boys, an orphanage, while his mother (the soul of my life) traveled
North to raise enough money to bring him to the United States.
Fatefully, when my father came to the United States at the age of 6, he
moved three houses down and across the street from his future bride, my
mom. Although my grandfather is a stubborn man and had survived combat
under the harshest of conditions, the street between my mother and my
father couldn't be wide enough for him. Young love defeats all enemies,
and Tata finally raised the white flag. My parents have been married 40 years.
I
still have close family sprinkled throughout Mexico; Chihuahua,
Guadalajara and Veracruz. My last name is Portuguese and my mother's
surname is Perez and her mother's surname is Rivera. My
great-grandmother swore we had family in every war the U.S. has been in
since the Civil War, and indeed, there are many Perez' and Rivera's
from Arizona and New Mexico who fought in the Civil War. It's probable
there are blood relations, but I have not done the research to
confirm. My great-grandmother lived to be 104 and she was sharp as a
tack to the very end. She slipped me candy and a silver dollar every
time I visited. I'd pay a thousand dollars to have just one of those
silver dollars back!
Like
many who grow up in East Los Angeles, my parents moved out of East L.A.
once they started their family. I grew up on the outskirts of East
L.A., in a multicultural neighborhood called Alhambra. It's just over
the hill from Boyle Heights, along the 10 freeway. However, East L.A.
was my home. I played pop warner football at Salazar Park (which is
now Cesar Chavez park I am told) and I spent most of my early years
ensconced in Boyle Heights. We grew up watching bands like Los Lobos play
at city fairs. My father's best friend moved on to be an activist in
the farmworker movement, and I remember fondly going up to the
farmlands to visit my dad's friends, where they always "talked
politics". Cesar Chavez is the godfather of a few of my cousins
(actually not blood cousins, but Mexican's have extended families, and
that's what we call each other), and I believe it was there that I grew
interested in politics.
I
have the best, most supportive wife in the world. I somehow managed to
convince Mackenzie to marry me, but her faults are my gains! I have
been truly blessed. I also have three daughters and one son. Isabella, Jacqueline, Evangeline and Santiago. They give me more love and affection than any person has a right
to receive. The one goal in life I am uncertain of is feeling worthy of
the gift that is my family.