In the event you did not notice, the evening of November 8, 2007 brought to a head long-standing concerns over the narrow views on diversity in the halls of Congress with the interests of the 44+ million-strong Latinos/Hispanics in this country - not counting the millions of Asians, Africans, Middle Eastern, and Europeans that speak languages other than English and are citizens or residents of this country. Ironically, the issue was brought to bear by the Salvation Army.

It all started when the Salvation Army implemented a policy that all employees needed to learn English within one year of employment. In addition, the Salvation Army proceeded to fire those who spoke in Spanish at the workplace. In March, the EEOC sued the Salvation Army on behalf of two fired workers finding that the absolute imposition of English Only rule at the Salvation Army violated Title VII in that it was not relevant to the job or legitimate security concerns. The Salvation Army sought Congressional relief and found it in the Senate and subsequently the House.

Y entonces el Caucus Hispano del Congreso rompio el baile! (For the linguistically challenged: And then the Congressional Hispanic Caucus interrupted the waltz!)

Members of the Caucus stood up and interrupted what would otherwise have been a routine vote on a Republican measure limiting money for health and education programs to anyone who does not speak English. Hispanic Caucus members did not know this measure was tacked to a tax bill and were caught off guard. To their credit, they reacted anyway and almost stopped the measure from being voted up.

Threatening to take ‘el bate y la bola para otro parque,’ the Caucus sought and almost won adjournment. Que revolu! Speaker Pelosi said the attack was personal (even though she wasn’t being told not to speak her language) and Majority Leader Steny Hoyer jabbed his finger on the House floor at Joe Baca, Chairman of the Hispanic Caucus, and, as reported by the Congressional Quarterly, yelled “How dare you destroy this party? This will be the worst loss in 10 years.”

Chairman Baca and Representatives Serrano and Gutierrez, however, truly understood what is personal. “You see this on the [voting] board?” he yelled back. “This is against me. This is against me personally.”

“We’re tired of the hate,” Baca said afterwards. “There is so much hatred and racism” in the immigration debate.

You are right Chairman, we are so tired of the hate!

You may ask yourself that if Congress - both Republican and Democrats - wanted to protect the Salvation Army, then who cares? Bueno, in addition to slapping all who speak a second language and are proud of it in the face, lo que acabó de reventar la ampolla was that the Caucus members were also offended by the underlying language of the Republican-drafted motion: “None of the funds made available in this Act shall be used to initiate or participate in a civil action by or on the behalf of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission against an entity on the grounds that the entity requires an employee to speak English while engaged in work.”

In other words, contrary to federal judicial decisions and the law, English Only rules not related to work or safety concerns would have been permitted. As Chair of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, I prosecuted English Only rules that violated Title VII vigorously. Language, culture and ethnic origin are so intertwined as to be indistinguishable. To tell someone they cannot speak the language of their mother, father and community is the same as treating them disparately without any business, legal or moral justification. The cases we brought, for example, included women who were fired for speaking Spanish while in the bathroom, on breaks or walking down the sidewalk outside workplace grounds. In one instance, a woman was fired for saying “Hola.” Language discrimination was so egregious that workers hired to speak Spanish were fired for speaking Spanish during their work breaks. All of this has been happening way before September 11.

There are those who claim that we must speak only English at the workplace at all times (even in the bathroom, during lunch, on the sidewalk or praying) for the sake of unity. That is so lame as it would mean that all monolingual English speakers are united in the U.S.A. or anywhere and nothing is farther from the truth or more laughable. All Americans, regardless of heritage and language abilities, will unite when the safety of our families, community and country are at stake. The many immigrants who are now fighting courageously and honorably on our behalf in Iraq demonstrate it by putting their life on the line without regret. How would they feel if they knew that they could not call their Mom and say “Te quiero Mama” while they are “on the job”? Shame on those that try to demean and disguise their prejudice and ignorance behind the noble concept of unity!

I applaud the Hispanic Congressional Caucus for standing up and taking a stand as I understand Speaker Pelosi is now moving to kill this invidious requirement. Jim Boulet, Jr., Executive Director of English First, recently said “When you see one of the Salvation Army’s red kettles this Christmas season, you might put in a few extra dollars. Thanks to Nancy Pelosi, the Salvation Army must pay to defend itself again on a case it has already won once.” I say no one is above the law and while there are Americans across the nation that believe we are all created equal, invidious discrimination will not be legalized.

And I write as a fully bilingual Latina, born American, from an island that has offered tens of thousands of its Spanish-speaking heroes to defend with their lives our right to speak - in English or Spanish!

I extend my Thanksgiving prayers y les doy las gracias a Dios primero, y a nuestros compañeros legisladores por defender nuestro derecho de expresarnos en nuestro lenguaje de corazon.

“I want to say a toast. Thank you for being my support in Pryluky. For being the people I can count on when I am frustrated at work or I am misunderstanding my colleagues. Thank you for being the heart of Pryluky throughout my Peace Corps service.” These were my words during Thanksgiving dinner to Vlad and Zhanna Romanchenko.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It’s probably my favorite holiday because it revolves around food. I love roast turkey. I love stove top. I love apple cider. I love the feeling of being drowsy after eating big meal. I love Thanksgiving. And I had all of it in Ukraine!

A month ago, I was visiting Vlad and Zhanna Romanchenko’s house for coffee and biscuits. Vlad and Zhanna are my best friends in Pryluky. Zhanna is a former interpreter and Vlad, her husband, is a manager at a window company. As we drank coffee, Zhanna asked what my plans were for Thanksgiving. I told her that Peace Corps volunteers plan Thanksgiving among themselves, but I had no plans at the moment. Zhanna has always wanted to celebrate Thanksgiving so she asked me if she could host Thanksgiving for me and my friends at her home.

I could not turn down this gesture. Vlad and Zhanna offered their house to host my friends and me because they wanted to celebrate Thanksgiving with us. My answer was an immediate yes.

I invited a group of friends that were not only Peace Corps-Ukraine volunteers, but who had substantial life experience. They included: Pedro Estrada, a Baron Fellow with the U.S. National Security Education Program and RPCV* who lived in Moldova; Sam Knightly, a law school student at Yeshiva University (NY) and RPCV who lived in Kazakhstan; Joseph Livesey, a Harvard graduate and graduate student at University College London; Kristina Morden, a Peace Corps volunteer with over 15 years of corporate experience; and Michelle Runyon, my closest volunteer.

Despite the fact that there were two Pedros at the dinner (a running joke during the night), I asked everyone to bring or cook something for the dinner. I was in charge of roasting the turkey, but I also made stove top, rice and beans, corn bread, and orange-flavored chicken, among other things. Everyone’s dish contributed greatly to the dinner.

The story of Thanksgiving is a graceful one. In essence, Thanksgiving is about two cultures colliding. It wasn’t a violent collision, but a collision of two cultures meeting and accepting each other’s existence, and then educating the other about their surroundings. Because the Pilgrims received most of the help to survive in Plymouth, Massachusetts, they gave thanks to God and their new Native American friends.

This year, on Thanksgiving Day, I gave thanks to Vlad and Zhanna for being so humble to my friends and to me, for being so willing to learn about our culture - both American and Latin American - and for making my year and a half as a Peace Corps volunteer go by so fast.

When I came to Ukraine, I knew that my time here was going to be special, but I didn’t know how. I could have never anticipated the relationships and bond I would form. In the absence of family and friends, I am happy to have people around me that are so caring.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!

*RPCV – Returned Peace Corps Volunteer

Reflecting on the last presidential debate in Nevada, I thought back to a conversation I had earlier this month with a friend about how we should decide which presidential candidate will best address the challenges facing the Latino community. He stated that we have come a long way since the last presidential elections because at least today all the Democratic presidential candidates are courting the Latino vote. Specifically, he argued, Senator Clinton has made it a point to demonstrate her commitment to Latinos by hiring many Latino political staffers and by courting the endorsement of almost any Latino leader of relevance. To him, such actions demonstrate that at least with her campaign, our community is finally getting the respect it deserves.

I would partially agree with some of his thinking because integrating outreach strategies for Latino voters acknowledges the electoral power of our community. However, I would disagree with the notion that just having token Latinos endorse campaigns or hiring a few Latino staffers demonstrates candidate X’s commitment to our community. Some in the Latino political circles may disagree with me on this premise, but I believe we should value political leadership based on the content and consistency of a candidate’s proposal and the impact that those policies will have in our communities, rather than just how much outreach a candidate is making to our current political leadership.

Solving the problems that plague our community will take real leadership and courage by any presidential candidate. Issues like the growing gap between the rich and the poor, the lack of a living wage with health care and retirement benefits for most workers, the need for real immigration reform, and access to a good education for undocumented children. All these issues are not easy to solve; it will take a real debate and integration of our community into a plan of action. Unfortunately, none of the candidates so far have courageously stated solutions that can solve the problem. Rather they go back and forth between saying what Latinos want to hear and what they think the average American voter wants, which vacillates between more national security and tougher laws against illegal immigrants.

For me, what the performance of the presidential candidates in Las Vegas showed is that our community has a long way to go before our issues and real solutions to them become an integral part of a presidential candidate’s platform. As Latino leaders, we must demand that both political parties give us more than empty rhetoric and TV sound-bites in Spanish. To get our support, either party must do more than just show up to a debate in Spanish TV and/or show us a list of political endorsements. They must convince us that the policies they will put into place as the next president of the US will enable Latino families to achieve the American Dream.

Fortunately, we have enough time left in the presidential campaign trail to have some real discussions with all the candidates. Therefore, I will caution all of us against getting blindsided by the most popular last name in politics today, and instead evaluate all the candidates’ proposals and how consistently they deliver the same message in different forums. After all, just because someone says they care about Latino issues to a room full of Latinos does not mean they will deliver for us once they become the next president. In that sense, I agree with Ruben Navarrete’s column (San Diego Tribune, 11/18/07) when he stated that not holding the candidates in both parties accountable today will certainly render us politically irrelevant and powerless in the long run.

How many ways are there to share one’s culture? I can think of a few. You can share stories, history, language similarities, food, and music. In Ukraine, the most popular way to share my culture is through music and dance. Bachata – the music and the dance – is a huge hit here. Ukrainians find it easy to dance to and they love the exotic beat.

Last week, I went to Poltava to present a seminar on Cross Cultural Communication and, coincidentally, Todd and Tammie Wilson, American missioners from Indiana, held their English Club* on Friday that week. The topic happened to be MEXICO.

Well, that was all that I needed to get fired up. Coincidences like these don’t come very often. So Kristina and I convinced Todd and Tammie to develop the topic of the English Club to all of Latin America. Even though the majority of Latinos in America are Mexicans I don’t believe it’s an excuse for Americans not to distinguish among other Latin American cultures. So whenever I get an opportunity, I try to talk about Latin America and make a clear distinction among the other Latin American countries. I can illustrate the differences best by speaking about the Dominican Republic.

So Kristina, Todd, Tammie, and I planned a big Latin American Fest. We were going to share some Latin history! We were going to cook Latin dishes! We were going to dance to Latin music! And a piñata – we even prepared a piñata! To do what you do to a piñata…

For a moment in time, Latin America was present in Ukraine.

Todd spoke about the history of Dominican Republic and how the country chose to embrace Christianity as opposed to its neighbor Haiti. His speech was very interesting. He spoke a bit about religion during the meeting, even though I don’t know if I agree with his version of history.

Everyone did their part and helped out with the cooking. Tammie and Todd prepared tacos. Jeff (another American) prepared guacamole and fajitas, and I prepared arroz blanco, habichuelas, arroz con queso y pollo guisado.

After dinner, I gave an hour-long salsa lesson to all of the attendees. The great thing about teaching salsa is sharing a bit of the history before the lesson. Modern salsa is highly influence from its Cuba origins, but it was conceived in New York City. Salsa great Johnny Pacheco said it best, “In New York, salsa stayed true to the Cuban form, but new sounds were added. We had Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, Cubans, Mexicans, [and] Canadians. And we called it salsa because salsa is made with different condiments. So when we played in a band it’s a mix (just like any sauce).”** The reaction to this has always been unilateral in Ukraine: “What? How can that be if the music is in Spanish?”

And that’s when I say, “Welcome to America: The melting pot of the world.”

At the conclusion of the salsa lesson, Anastasia, a student during my seminar and the salsa lesson, told me that she lived in Kansas for a year. In Kansas, she went to a club where she danced a type of music to the beat of a slow guitar.

Right away, I said, “Bachata!” I put on a song by Andy Andy called “A Quien Le Importa”.

“That’s it,” she said.

We danced the song and she definitely knew the steps to the music. It’s amazing how music crosses all the borders in the world. It makes me very proud to be Latino.

*Todd and Tammie Wilson have two different English language clubs in Poltava –a religious themed and a secular themed – on the topic of Latin America. I attend the secular English club since Peace Corps is a non-religious, non-political organization.

** Taken from AfroPop Worldwide Radio Show titled “History of Salsa”

In a time when shows like “The Biggest Loser” that encourage people to lose weight are so popular, I’m proud to say I’ve gained 50 pounds over 10 years and I couldn’t be happier.

At 13 and 60 pounds, my life depended on gaining weight. Though I originally intended to go on a diet to look “skinny and pretty,” my struggle with anorexia nervosa nearly killed me two months shy of my 14th birthday.

I first began cutting down on cookies and other fattening sweets, restricting my daily fat intake to three grams. My weight dropped to 86 pounds, and I regularly received compliments from my school friends and neighbors.

Gradually, my devotion to counting fat grams and calories became an obsession. I ate only wheat toast with strawberry jam, and jars of banana-flavored baby food, about 300 calories a day. If I was still hungry, I would chew on Tums or drink ginger ale to curb my appetite.

Growing up in the Cuban culture, where food is love, my parents were baffled by my weight loss. They cooked my favorites like rice and beans with chicken and caramel custard and begged or bribed me to eat.
“I’ll give you $5 if you finish this sandwich,” my dad would say.

To convince my parents that I was “eating,” I would push my food around the plate, or tell them I would feel more comfortable eating by myself. When they would leave me alone in the kitchen, I would either throw my dinner out the window or feed it to my dog, Bingo. As I became skeletal, trying to hide my bony frame in baggy clothing, Bingo’s girth steadily increased.

As anyone who has suffered from eating disorders knows, self-starvation, taking diet pills and exercising for four hours at a time are a few of the superficial symptoms of the disorder. I had such bad self-esteem, I couldn’t walk by a mirror without criticizing my “thunder thighs” or the shape of my nose, or how my stomach was not completely flat. After awhile of not eating, I would feel numb but powerful. Years of being bullied at school had me helpless, but in starving myself, I felt I had “succeeded” at something. I may have been physically frail, but I was untouchable.

But my Cuban family found the concept of an “eating disorder” hard to fathom.

“If you were here, I would tie you down and force feed you,” wrote my mother’s cousin Mimi from Miami in a letter to me. By March of 1997, after exhausting possibilities of cancer and ulcers, my parents took me to the emergency room at St. Mary’s Hospital in Hoboken because I had become severely anemic and hypoglycemic - low blood sugar. While in the pediatric unit that week, my pulse was so low I was in danger of going into cardiac arrest and dying. All I kept thinking was, “Please God, don’t let me die. But I don’t want to gain weight either.”

“You are going to die just like Karen Carpenter,” the nurse on duty said, referring to the 70s singer who struggled with anorexia nervosa and died in 1983, the year I was born.

My week-long stint at the Hoboken hospital was followed by my saga at the Eating Disorders Unit at St. Claire’s Hospital in Boonton where I spent most of 1997 - including my favorite holidays, Easter, my birthday in May, July 4th, Thanksgiving Christmas and New Year’s. Every time I would be discharged, I would go back. In fact, the other patients and I would joke about that, since I would only go home for two-week intervals and that was my “vacation.”

During my stay at the Pepto Bismol pink-colored Eating Disorders Unit, I was held down several times as doctors and staff there placed a naso-gastric tube - a thin tube that went from my nose to my stomach - that, like an intravenous, would provide extra nutrients if I wasn’t eating all my meals.

My turning point came at 17, when after years of inpatient and outpatient therapy, I grew tired to being sick and tired. After meeting men and women who’ve quit law school, jeopardized their relationships and went on disability leave at work, I knew life was more than about counting calories.

Eating “fear foods” like cheesecake and French fries were tough at first, but the alternative would be a revolving door between the hospital and my bedroom. I wanted to go to prom, go to college, become a journalist and get married. Living my life fearing food and taking diet pills was not a life. Though I felt “powerful” by starving, I learned I had no control if I was sitting in an Eating Disorders Unit hearing bulimics trade “binge and purge” stories as the anorexics find ways to hide food and smuggle in gum and other “contraband.”

Though I have relapsed twice, I find productive ways of dealing with despair: I dance, write, read and volunteer. The most powerful feeling is knowing I’m healthy, and able to help others with their struggle.

As we celebrate this Veterans Day, it is important for all America to recognize the contributions of Latino veterans who have served and continue to serve our nation.

Although Hispanics have participated in every major U.S. military conflict, from the American Revolution when volunteers from Cuba, Puerto Rico and Mexico fought the British in 1779 under the command of Gen. Bernardo de Galvez (think Galveston, Texas), to the present conflict in Iraq, the Latino veteran has been under-appreciated and under-recognized in American culture and within the Hispanic community itself.

Hispanic-Americans have won more than 40 Medals of Honor. Seaman Philip Bazar who was born in Chile was awarded the Medal of Honor during the Civil War for his service aboard the USS Santiago de Cuba. Other Hispanics have risen to become leaders and served with distinction. Lt. General Pedro Del Valle, a Puerto Rican, commanded the 1st Marine Division in the Pacific during Second World War. Major Oscar Francis Perdomo, whose father served in the Mexican Revolution, under the command of Francisco “Pancho” Villa before immigrating to the United States was a fighter ace who has shot down five enemy airplanes in a single day.

Today, young Latina servicewomen are paying the ultimate sacrifice for their country; this past July 14th, Captain Maria Ortiz from Pennsauken, New Jersey was killed by a mortar in Baghdad while performing her duties as a U.S. Army Nurse.

Recognition comes grudgingly for the Hispanic veteran and that’s why it was important for Latino veteran groups and community leaders to raise questions of Ken Burns’ documentary “The War” for failing to have a single interview with a Hispanic veteran among the roughly 40 profiled in the initial cut of the film. Burns final inclusion of a short Hispanic narrative only scratches the surface of the Latino vet’s story of valor and courage.

This is why it’s important for the Hispanic community to tell its own story, and produce its own films. Films like the “Borinqueneers”, a documentary written, produce and directed by a Latina, Noemi Figueroa Soulet, which chronicles the history of the Puerto Rican 65th Infantry Regiment in a well-documented, balanced heartfelt narrative detailing the good and the bad of the American military experience.

If our community does not write its own history, someone will write it for us, or in the case of the Latino veteran, forget their sacrifices.

New Jersey this week elected a record number of women to the legislature (34 women out of 120 seats), launching the Garden State to 15th place nationally for the proportion of women serving in the legislature. One of them is a Latina elected to the Senate. Does it matter? You bet, Latinas are breaking ground in the Senate and that is one vote that counts to move our Latino agenda forward. My advice to Teresa Ruiz is for her to stay connnected and focused with the Latino community, build a forum, seek advice, collaborate with others on issues that are relevant to our community and the state. Be proactive and be transparent with our community. Teresa is hope, strength and a refreshing voice for us Latinos …Viva la Raza. Congratulations.

“What?”

Not “hello”. Not “how are you doing?” Not “how’s life?” It’s the first thing you will often hear when you go to buy something at a majazine (grocery store) in Pryluky – where I serve as Peace Corps volunteer.

In Ukraine, the relationship between the employee and the client is very different than in the United States. The role between the employee and the customer goes something like this: The person with all the power in the majazine is the person next to the counter – the employee. Therefore, the employee has no limits to what he can or cannot say; in other words, being nice and courteous is not an expectation. The Western business mottos such as“the customer is always right” or “satisfaction guaranteed” are virtually non-existent in the town where I live, well, at least for now.

One of my biggest challenges in Ukraine was addressing customer service. I believed that if Ukrainians were accustomed bad customer service their whole life then they could not differentiate between good and bad customer service. But last spring, I conducted a survey among 54 business owners and over 50% of those who responded said that “improving customer service” was a goal for their business.

So it wasn’t that the businessmen didn’t care about the quality of customer service, it was that they didn’t know how to improve it. So with the Pryluky City Council I helped organize a Business Assistance Center which provides free consulting on law issues and accounting practices for small and medium size enterprises. The Center also provides business trainings and the first training was on Customer Service. The training was presented by Valentina Darhunk, who is a business trainer educated in the United States, and she gave two 8-hour training to 40 businessmen.

Forty businessmen from throughout the city came to the training to participate in the interactive training. The training was presented in Russian. The crowd of businessmen loved it. They were laughing and enjoying the role playing activities. There were two role playing activities. First, the businessmen were given a scenario on how to treat a customer in a real life situation. As they dealt with the customer the presenter video taped them. When the trainer replayed the video, some of the businessmen were astonished to see how they treated customers. Then she asked them, “Well, would you like to be treated that way?” The response was obvious. The second role-play activity was conducted after the trainer taught her methodology. By the end, everyone was very pleased with their results. Everyone had understood the direct link between customer service and higher profit because if everyone is selling the same product it’s the service that is ultimately going to make the difference.

The workshop was a first step to change the perception that customers satisfaction can translate to more business and higher income. Though this was questioned often by the attendees of the training, I believe that they walked away with this new philosophy on customer service. A new philosophy that will hopefully spread throughout the whole town.