Commentary: On Jan. 18, I helped celebrate Martin Luther King Day by reading a proclamation at First United Methodist Church, with my gratitude to event organizers R.C. Johnson, James Simmons and Nurieh Glasgow. I had decided beforehand not to introduce this proclamation with any personal remarks.
The thinking was that government is the people’s business, not about individuals or personalities. We need look no further than the presidential campaign to see how personalities can detract from substantive issues.
But on the way home, I realized how that proclamation was “a long time coming.” Here’s why: As with President Barack Obama, I was born in the summer of 1961, and as with the president, I was born to a white mother and a father of color. And like the president, only one side shows.
Now sure, there was a U.S. Supreme Court opinion in 1954 that said Hispanics are no different than whites, but tell that to the people living in Texas, or Arizona, or California, or anywhere in the country at that time. If anyone has ever wondered why job applications have Hispanic in parenthesis, that court opinion is how we still make the distinction, without actually making it.
When my father, John Sandoval, was a teenager, he was severely beaten for having won the affection of a white girl. Tell the boys slamming my father’s head into the hood of a car that there’s no difference between Hispanic and white people.
The point is my family was a scandal back then. They used to baptize the Hispanic babies on Saturday and the white babieson Sunday. After some deliberation, I was baptized on a Sunday. Thank you, for not inflicting upon me the first of a lifetime of indignities based on a condition of my birth. But, why were they segregating baptisms, again?
So, 54 years later, I’m the mayor, and the mayor reads proclamations. The city staff invited me to write the preface to the MLK proclamation. I’ve written the introduction before, and I am a writer, after all. My fourth novel was just published, a science fiction novel with a black man for a primary character, by the way. Racism is part of the plot.
Because of where I came from, I realized that the preface should be special. Dr. King changed the heart of this nation with his eloquence. He answered hatred with compassion. Mediocre language would be an insult to the man’s legacy. So I thought about the preface for a week and then the words came to me in a whisper of inspiration.
Before we get to it, yes, we have come a long way. Institutional racism is a thing of the past. Slavery and segregation have been struck down. Racial covenants are no longer written into mortgage contracts. Laws prohibiting interracial marriage are seen as ignorant relics of oppression. I consider myself, along with the president and many others, as living proof that love can triumph over hatred, proof just by being here and reading a proclamation.
Allow me to set the stage. I’m standing at the lectern in a vintage, charcoal colored suit, tailored in the 1960s by Harry Yesness of Casper. This suit was made back when the customer chose the material, pattern, and they made it in house. I did see the movie "Selma," so I wore the white shirt with a thin tie.
It was redemption for injustice, because in my pocket I had the funeral card from when we buried my dad, a card with a graphic of Our Lady of Guadalupe and with a eulogy written by my mother, Claudette Ortiz Franzoy.
Without introductory remarks, I read the proclamation, which included this personally significant preface.
The United States of America is taking a long time to fulfill its promise of equality. Institutional racism in the form of slavery cost us 600,000 lives during the Civil War, and the struggle had only begun. Equality did not begin to truly ring until a hundred years later with civil rights legislation, inspired by visionary leaders such as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. And because Dr. King pushed for a difficult reckoning by peaceful means, fighting a battle of conscience without bloodshed, he helped this nation heal terrible wounds of wisdom and gave solace to countless more past and future souls. Equality is ever more near because of him.
Daniel Sandoval is mayor of Casper, Wyoming.
Originally published by the Casper Star-Tribune