The life of an immigrant: Surviving the melting pot

Oscar Mondragon answers a series of questions about working with Cesar Chavez, being an immigrant, and what he likes about working at the Malibu Community Labor Exchange. Video by Brandi Saldierna.

About 20 people were waiting outside, with another 10 inside the small trailer. Their eyes darted back and forth, searching, from the parking lot to a man standing near some picnic tables, talking to a small group of people.

This man could help them, or at least try.

“I didn’t plan to be here,” said Oscar Mondragon, 66, as he sipped his Starbucks coffee underneath a shade tree, “but events in life put me in this direction.”

Mondragon is the executive director for the Malibu Community Labor Exchange, where the unemployed gather looking for work. The group, mainly immigrants, wait for hours, hoping someone drives up looking to hire a worker.

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People, mainly immigrants, waiting for work outside the Malibu Community Labor Exchange. (Photo by Brandi Saldierna)

On a slow day, there may be 30 people looking for work. Other days, there’s many more, Mondragon said.

Suddenly, a man emerged from the parking lot, causing the crowd outside to begin speaking frantically in Spanish. Mondragon immediately excused himself and briskly walked over to the man.

This is what they’d been waiting for. Work. It had finally arrived. But only one person would walk away with a job.

Mondragon hurried inside the trailer and emerged carrying a bowl with tiny strips of paper inside. It was a lottery. He reached his hand into the bowl and shuffled around the hopes of each person standing there, until he found one. The lucky one.

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Oscar Mondragon is conducting a lottery to pick one person that will walk away with work for the day. (Photo by Brandi Saldierna)

His fingers clasped onto a crumpled piece of paper. Each person stood around him, holding their breath, trying to read the name before it could roll off his lips, hoping it was theirs. He said the name and just like that, everyone took a breath. It was over. The lucky woman leapt forward and followed the man to the Promised Land.

Mondragon knows what it feels like to struggle. To search for a job until all hope had been swept away into a cloud of unemployment and despair; a cloud that rained on him every day. He knows what it is like to work hard, to toil aimlessly in the fields, picking for hours. He also knows the joy of finding opportunity and purpose, from more than two decades working for the United Farm Workers alongside Cesar Chavez.

Before Chavez and before serving as a board member for the United Farm Workers, Mondragon was just another immigrant looking for work. He walked the path of unemployment and today he works to guide those on that path.

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Namele Gutierrez, 22, works at the labor exchange and assists any of the immigrants who need help with translations or resume building. She’s been able to witness Mondragon interact with people daily and admires his passion for serving and helping others.

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Namele Gutierrez (left) is helping Marilu Cruz (right) with her coursework for school. (Photo by Brandi Saldierna)

“It’s obvious he has a heart for service,” Gutierrez said. “He’s not what you’d expect and he’s so interesting. Very philosophical.”

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Mondragon stumbled upon his life philosophy as a young boy, staring at the world around him.

“When I was about 6 years old, I was very aware of what was around me,”  Mondragon said. “Mexico City is surrounded by volcanoes, and on this day, I was looking at the volcanoes around me.”

He described a bright, beautiful day. He could see the snow that rested on the peaks of the mountains. He looked around and spotted a freshly dug ditch. He stared at the volcanoes while he played with the dirt, letting it slowly seep through his fingers. That’s when it happened.

“I thought to myself, what is truth?”  Mondragon said. “What is all this? What does it mean?”

That moment playing in the dirt, gazing in awe at the snow-capped volcanoes changed his life. Although he was young, he said he now knew his purpose. And that moment in Mexico would guide him for years to come.

“It was a moment of inspiration, of finding out what to do with my life,”  Mondragon said. “My goal was to find ways to help people, and ever since then, that’s how I’ve lived my life.”

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He crossed the border into the United States during the summer of 1963 … legally. His father had been part of the Bracero program, which brought millions of Mexican guest workers to the U.S., and decided it was time for his family to join him.

“We were documented,” Mondragon said. “My father was a bracero and got us all green cards. He was a farmworker in the Imperial Valley.”

America may be known as the land of opportunity but that’s not how 15-year-old Mondragon saw it when his father told him the news.

“I didn’t want to come to the U.S. and deal with the gringos,” Mondragon said. “In Mexico we learned about the conflict with the states, and I viewed it from a much more nationalistic perspective.”

“It’s funny,” he said, as he chuckled, “the irony of things. My first wife was American, white and now I’m a citizen. I love and respect this country a lot.”

His father — a single parent — brought Mondragon and his siblings Esther, Javier and Hector to the U.S. in search of work for the entire family, hoping to finally escape the grips of poverty.

“My parents separated when I was young,” Mondragon said. “We were growing up with a single man who was angry and bitter about the separation. I developed my own way of dealing with things through learning and searching. It affected me, but not that much.”

With only five years of formal schooling in Mexico, coming to the U.S. meant he was here to work.

“When we came here we didn’t have any money and I had to work on the farms,” Mondragon said. “Formal schooling doesn’t mean everything. You have the school of life where you read, you write, you talk, you learn and that can be just as good.”

He learned quickly that farm work was hard work, and it took a toll on his body.

“Farming was extremely hard on the body,” Mondragon said. “We worked with cleaning the plants where we had to bend over the whole day and it was very hard on your back.”

Mondragon distinctly remembers making $1.05 an hour, eventually shifting to the piece-rate system where farmworkers were paid based on how much lettuce they could pick. Because the work was seasonal, Mondragon and his family would go back and forth across Southern California chasing their American dream.

“My family used to migrate,” he said. “From Holtville to Salinas, we would go back and forth.”

Mondragon soon discovered that the transition from a lively city to a rural farm town wasn’t easy.

“It was really boring,” Mondragon said. “People in this small town would go to bed at seven at night. I came from Mexico City, a huge urban area where everyone goes to bed like chickens … very early in the morning. Here, once seven hit, the town was dead.”

Seven years. That’s how long it took him to realize there was more to life than picking produce every single day in the hot, Southern California sun.

“I was the first one to breakaway,” Mondragon said.

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Oscar Mondragon (left) and Namele Gutierrez (right) are going over plans for the day. (Photo by Brandi Saldierna)

The union started it all. He remembered how the sheriff would come around threatening the farmworkers with jail if they joined any labor unions. Instead, they encouraged the workers to join an employer-sponsored union.

“What they were doing wasn’t right,” Mondragon said. “We should be able to join something if we want to. That made me want to argue with them. I was respectful but assertive, but that moment in Mexico, when I was younger, really pushed me to do things.”

That’s when he joined the United Farm Workers of America, the nation’s first successful and largest farmworkers’ union, where he served as a board member for 20 years.

“When I joined the UFW as a farmworker,” Mondragon said, “we got into a big strike against the employers, and now you’re fighting everyone who wants to hold you back because they didn’t like the union.”

The union changed his life. Cesar Chavez, the union’s founder, became a personal friend and mentor and taught him that he matters in the world. Not only did Chavez influence him to learn English, he also taught him to throw away his timid exterior and embrace the ability to make a difference.

“He would say, go there and do this,” Mondragon said, “and I couldn’t say no. We were always able to believe in ourselves and other people.”

Not long after he joined UFW Mondragon married his first wife, Tina Marie, in 1981, and had three children: Tonatzin, Angelo and Añja. He soon learned how to balance his family life and hectic work schedule.

Mondragon recalled the many times Chavez would give him a one-way plane ticket along with an assignment and told him to find his way back by meeting people, raising money and sending it back to the union. It wasn’t an act of neglect, but rather an act of love. He wanted us to be strong and self-reliant, Mondragon said, and it worked.

“My work was throughout the country,” Mondragon said. “I went to big cities like San Francisco, New York and Chicago. Whatever the assignment was, it was an important thing to believe from him that you can do anything.”

He traveled a lot during the 1970s, a decade of peace, love, war and rock and roll.

“It was an incredible experience,” Mondragon said. “To get to know a society and a country, you must take the good with the bad and I learned all kinds of things about American culture.”

A trip to San Francisco stuck out in his mind. He went in the early 70s, when the Vietnam War was raging overseas and when music was a cornerstone of American culture. He learned a lot about people during this trip. Because he frequently traveled with Chavez, he was able to meet a tremendous amount of good people from all backgrounds.

“There were a lot of bad things happening in the world,” Mondragon said, “but we also met a lot of really great people that made us feel better about the world.”

Although both men only possessed five years of formal schooling, they didn’t let it hold them back on their quest for justice.

“He sent me to go negotiate a contract with a company with about 500 workers,” Mondragon said, “and I was telling him I didn’t know how to do that.”

Chavez explained how negotiations work. He said it’s all about the balance of power. Once you reach an agreement, someone else does the technical stuff, like drawing up a contract.

“He wanted us to feel capable and intelligent, regardless of how much schooling we had,” Mondragon said. “He urged the entire board to read and to continue learning as much possible. ‘Si se puede,’ it wasn’t just a motto, or logo, but it was a real way of life for many of us.”

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Oscar Mondragon inside the office of the Malibu Community Labor Exchange. (Photo by Brandi Saldierna)

Mondragon will always remember how much Chavez truly cared for farmworkers.

“He also taught me to really care and respect the workers,” Mondragon said. “I was involved in a situation where a worker was killed on the farms and I had to tell the families. It’s something I wouldn’t have been able to do without feeling as though these workers were my own family.”

When these types of situations occurred, it usually resulted in big marches or demonstrations.

“When we held any kind of event, we could always count on the police showing up,” Mondragon said. “Not just that, but they would tell us not to cross a certain street or they’d arrest us. But we had a right to cross the street, and so we did. When I was with the union, there were many times we would end up in jail, and they kept us in there for a couple of days.”

The 20 years he spent with the UFW was 20 years he couldn’t have dreamed up if he tried. But he wanted something different. He realized all good things come to an end, and as he closed one chapter he was ready to open another, ready to embark on a new adventure.

“I left the UFW in 1990 and looked for work like crazy,” Mondragon said, “and for two years I couldn’t find anything. Then someone knocked on my door asking me to work in Malibu for the labor exchange, and it was completely unexpected.”

Ron Hayes and Martin Sheen. Yes, Martin Sheen. These two men are the reason Mondragon is working for the labor exchange.

“Ron Hayes was the one who really got me here,” Mondragon said. “He approached me about working in Malibu to run a day labor site.”

Mondragon met with the board of directors of the labor exchange for an interview. After that, it was put to a vote.

“I was the first person to be interviewed by the board and Martin Sheen was there to support me,” Mondragon said. “He was always inclined to help and very fond of Cesar.”

While the board members raised money to fund the labor exchange and obtain nonprofit status, they hired Mondragon as the executive director in 1993.

That was a historical year for Mondragon.

He helped organize a fundraiser to raise money for farmworkers on March 31, his friend Cesar Chavez’s birthday. It was something to be proud of, something to be celebrated.

That feeling came to a halt on April 23, 1993. The phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Cesar Chavez had died.

“All of the media of LA called trying to get a statement,” Mondragon said. “I ended up dealing with all the press and I was able to handle it because of my experience with Cesar and farmworkers.”

Mondragon now can’t imagine his life without the labor exchange and the support of his loved ones. Ten years into the job, in 2003, he married his second wife, Carolina, and together they had four children: Athena, Daniel, Racquel and Jacob.

“After 22 years with the labor exchange,” Mondragon said, “I’ve met 16,000 people personally and this place is still an education for me because I’m continuously learning. You deal with problems everyday and help as much as you can.”

Oscar Mondragon just finished a phone call. (Photo by Brandi Saldierna)
Oscar Mondragon just finished a phone call. (Photo by Brandi Saldierna)

Oscar Mondragon and others inside the Malibu Community Labor Exchange. (Photo by Brandi Saldierna)[/caption]

People come here looking for a better future, Mondragon explained. Many people don’t see it that way, but it’s the history of the country.

“There’s a lot of good people in Malibu,” Mondragon said. “The prejudices that people have here about undocumented immigrants, was quite evident in the beginning, mainly because there’s a lot of people you don’t know coming into your city, raising normal concerns.”

The labor exchange has gained the support of many churches, but it’s taken 20 years, Mondragon said.

“The city of Malibu has always been very supportive,” Mondragon said. “It has not mattered whatever council is there, they’ve always been great people.”

Although Mondragon would say that immigrants have it tough, he also believes that they can be their own biggest obstacles in life.

“The biggest obstacle is myself,” Mondragon said. “It’s your perception of the world.”

Mondragon believes that a good attitude is the only way things will fall into place in life.

“We tell people here to watch your attitudes,” Mondragon said. “If you have the wrong attitude, it’s never going to work. When you have a good attitude, everything works out. When you’re negative, you feel like the whole world hates you.”

Marilu Cruz, 52, has been coming to the labor exchange since it opened its doors 22 years ago. As an immigrant, she attended weekly English classes to learn the language while working odd jobs here and there to support herself. She’s currently pursuing a degree to become a teacher and has the deepest admiration for Mondragon, who helped her get to where she’s at today.

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Marilu Cruz (left) and Oscar Mondragon inside the Malibu Community Labor Exchange. (Photo by Brandi Saldierna)

“He’s humble and knowledgeable,” Cruz said. “I met him 20 years ago and he helped me get a job and I’ve been coming ever since. Even though sometimes we don’t have a job, we get to talk to others in the same situation, so we know we’re not alone, it’s like a support group. Oscar has made this a special place.”

Mondragon recognizes beauty as one of the most powerful things a person can view in their lifetime. He remembers the culture, music, food and caring found deep within his Mexican culture. His love for Mexico, and the mountains sprawled overtop the land, is everlasting. But he also loves the redwood forests of California, the sequoia trees, the lakes, the Petrified Forest in Utah and the mountains in Colorado. Mondragon beams as each syllable of scenery spills from his lips, going through his mental checklist of beauty.

“The beauty is wherever you want to find it,” Mondragon said. “To me everything has beauty. I can see a snake that’s very colorful, and he may be very dangerous, but he’s also very beautiful. It’s the same with people. They can look nice but it doesn’t mean they’re nice people.”

There’s also beauty to be found within the growing immigrant community. He took a final sip of coffee before he said what came next, and laid down his empty Starbucks cup, gently, on the green picnic table. Because even though he could only help one person find work that day, he was still clinging to the belief that one person can make a difference.

 

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Oscar Mondragon is talking with a woman who is looking for work. (Photo by Brandi Saldierna)

“People who are looking for a better life, willing to risk their own life, die, to look for help,” Mondragon said. “That’s selfless love. That’s beauty. The opportunity to become better people and help this country. We have a whole lesson of the U.S. that people have built this country by bettering themselves. When someone comes from a small town in Mexico, they only want to help their families, and sometimes they never make it here. Tragedy for human desire is to do better. A life is a life, and we all matter.”