GLORIA MOLINA

“We already decided who is running for the congressional seats and will let you know when a woman will run.” As a Chicana, Latina, Hispanic woman, I was shocked to hear that response from the controlling political group of men. This was 1981, a time when elective office for Latinas was just a dream. A large increase in the Latino population had created two congressional seats in the Eastside of Los Angeles. In our naïveté, we thought, here is the perfect opportunity to get the first Hispanic woman in the United States Congress. It only made sense to us to select one woman and one man for those two open seats. But no, the Latino men who held positions of power in Los Angeles informed us that two men would fill the seats. As a Chicana who had actively supported and organized volunteers to get Latino men elected in our community, I was devastated by the pronouncement.

The Latino community had made great strides against gerrymandering, racism, intimidation, and lack of political resources. We were finally getting opportunities to compete in various political seats. It was not automatic—we marched, we organized, and we empowered ourselves to overcome the hurdles of getting Latinos elected to political office. Latinas in our communities were shoulder to shoulder with the men in all those efforts. So their pronouncement—not yet, we will let you know when—was disheartening.

Totally unprepared for the callous and abrupt response, our small cadre of Latinas regrouped. While this was a setback, it put us on a path of strategic action. Leading up to this time, Chicana feminists were actively involved in two significant movements—the Chicano movement, which was a call to action to the overconcentration of Latinos on the front lines in Vietnam and the inequality of opportunity for Latinos, and the feminist movement, which was fighting for women’s rights but was basically a white women’s movement that did not respect or understand racism in minority communities.

As Latinas, we aspired for opportunity in the Latino community, and we were exploring, discussing, and raising awareness that the traditional role for women in our community was totally unacceptable. We, too, wanted to provide leadership and harness political and economic power. While supportive of these two movements, we started our own unique organization, Comisión Femenil Mexicana. Our goal was to empower ourselves and advocate for the Latina and her family. We also founded the Chicana Service Action Center, an employment training center, and Centro de Niños, a bilingual, bicultural child-care center. Latinas needed better employment opportunities and security of their children’s well-being while they studied and worked.

We decided to push back. We informed the men that we would have a female candidate for the legislative seat and quickly went into action. While it had been my goal to manage the campaign, I ended up the candidate. We recognized the challenges of running against the men in our community, which included a lack of resources and endorsements. But facing those challenges, we strategized for each of them. It was not the first time that we Latinas recognized we would have to work twice as hard to be equal.


WE NEEDED TO DEMONSTRATE TO THE MEN IN OUR COMMUNITY THAT THEY COULD NOT TAKE US FOR GRANTED AND THAT WE WERE A FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH.

THE PRESSURE WAS NEARLY UNBEARABLE. BUT DISPROVING THAT WE HAD TO WAIT OUR TURN WAS A POWERFUL MOTIVATOR. WE FOUND OUR COURAGE AND DETERMINATION. WE DEALT WITH THE SETBACKS AND PURSUED OUR GOAL WITH PASSION AND FORTITUDE.


We built a campaign on the strengths of women. We reached out to the many female political networks and female elected officials that many of us had also supported throughout the years. We called everyone we knew and asked for money, we called on every volunteer we had ever recruited, and we hired a female political consultant. While we did not have the money our opponent had, we had volunteers and passion. We walked door-to-door every day of the campaign, we raised money, we sent handwritten notes and mailers. We assessed and reassessed each and every day. We struggled, we had setbacks and disappointments, but we knew we had to make every effort to win or at least run a competitive effort. We needed to demonstrate to the men in our community that they could not take us for granted and that we were a force to be reckoned with. We fought discrimination from men and women in our community as they, too, had bought into the stereotype of Latinas’ role in positions of power. We heard comments like “I would never vote for a woman,” “A woman cannot handle pressure,” and “I do not trust a woman representing me in the political arena.” Even Latinas in our community doubted our ability to win. The stakes were high, and we deeply understood that losing the campaign would be a tremendous setback for all women. The pressure was nearly unbearable. But disproving that we had to wait our turn was a powerful motivator. We found our courage and determination. We dealt with the setbacks and pursued our goal with passion and fortitude.

In 1982, I was elected as the first Latina to the California legislature. I have proudly served my community for more than 30 years as a member of the legislature, the Los Angeles City Council, and the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors. We kicked the door open for many well-qualified Latinas to serve in the legislature, Congress, or local office. I have been followed by many unbelievably qualified Latinas to serve in significant political positions. No longer would the political bullies of our community say to any woman, “Because you are a girl, you must wait until we decide when you can take a position of power.”