Celebrating Hispanic Heritage Month

Every year around this time I’m approached by people with the same question,  “Hey, Chief,”  they ask,  “why do we have to have Hispanic Heritage Month?  Aren’t we all Americans?”  I never argue that a bit, but there’s more to it.  I’m sure you know we celebrate African-American/Black History Month in February, Women’s History Month in March, Asian-Pacific Month in May, Hispanic Heritage Month in September/October, and Native American Month in November.  The purpose of those observances is to educate those of us who don’t know a lot about those cultures, and to acknowledge the contributions those groups of people have made to our own American heritage. 

 

What makes America great is its diversity.  If you’ll look around you (go ahead, no one’s watching) you’ll notice that what we call America is made up of people from all kinds of cultures, from different parts of the country, or the world. We’re all different yet we’re all the same. We share the same basic values that make us Americans. We’re invested in making our country and the world a better place for all of us to live. We believe in a democratic system of government where the people have a say in what and how we live. What makes America great is that although we have different and diverse needs and desires, even though we’re all different, we’ve been able to synergize all those differences to form one unified family that allows us to be ourselves and expects us to accept each other.

 

         We used to talk about the American Melting Pot.  An honorable idea, but I’m not sure it’s attainable.  Why?  Because there is very little, if any, chance that we’ll all “melt”, that we’ll all assimilate, that we’ll all be the same.  And I’m not so sure we all want to be the same.  I think it was General George Patton who said, “If two of us are thinking the same thing, we don’t need one of us.”  There’s a marked difference between thinking the same thing and thinking with the same purpose in mind. Diversity means we can think differently but attain the same goal.

 

The concept of the American Salad Bowl comes closer to describing the culture we live in.  The illustration of the salad bowl describes a dish that, as a whole, is its own entity, delicious and healthy.  What gives that dish its flavor and wholesomeness is all of the different ingredients that make it one.  Each ingredient adds its own contribution to the whole.  Any part of it that’s missing will affect the end result. 

 

         Dr. Stephen Covey said that “unity is not sameness, it’s complimentariness.”  If we are to be united, we have to be willing to accept, appreciate, and celebrate each others’ differences. 

 

As we celebrate Hispanic Heritage Month, which is 15 September through 15 October, join the fun!  Get involved!  Make time to enjoy the various events scheduled throughout the celebration!  You don’t have to be of, or know a lot about, the culture. The people who have labored hard to organize the events will gladly teach you and will welcome your support.  You’ll learn a lot and you’ll find a kind of gratification you can’t find elsewhere.  The education you gain and the relationships you develop will make you better and they’ll make America better.  Together, we can go forward!  

 

                           ¡ADELANTE!

                                            bob vásquez!

 

Happy Birthday, US Air Force!

Just about six months ago, I packed up my office for the last time.  The last time as a member the United States Air Force, that is.  No, I didn’t get fired again.  It was just time to sound retreat and turn things over to younger warriors.  As I put my treasures away, I found it amazing how much stuff a person can accumulate in only 50 years.  As I went about the process, I realized that what I really have is a collection of memories.  Memories of people I’ve had the pleasure of working and living with throughout the world. 

    For some five decades people asked me why I served.  The answer remains unchanged.  It was always THE PEOPLE!  Packing up my collection of memories reminded me of that.  There are a few things about which I’m absolutely sure.  One of them is that the Air Force is made up of the very best people in the world!  Now, my Army, Marine, Coast Guard, and Navy brothers and sisters would probably argue with me, as well they should.  The Space Force isn’t old enough to give me any guff. I’ve only been an Airman, so I can only speak from that paradigm, although, as I said for many decades, all our services begin with “US.” US Marines, US Air Force, US Navy, US Army, US Coast Guard, and US Space Force. It’s always been about US protecting our country.

In the time it took me to fill those boxes, I relived my military life as I recalled who took  that picture, who gave me that memento or that coin, who I was serving with when I was presented that Chief bust.  I was brought up under the principle that if you take care of the people, they’ll take care of the mission.  That’s another thing about which I’m absolutely sure.  What’s happened, in truth, is that as I’ve taken care of people, they’ve taken care of me, and together, we’ve taken care of the mission, we’ve protected our country.

I joined the Air Force to avoid being drafted.  Not that I had anything against the Army, I say “Hooah!” pretty well, but green just wasn’t my color at the time.  For those too young to know what the draft was, it was a process by which those who had never won a lottery, a door prize, or a raffle, were given the opportunity to win a free trip across the Pacific to a tropical paradise.  Hey, that’s what the letter from President Richard Nixon said!  I joined the Air Force because of the draft.  I stayed because of the people.

Throughout my military life I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to serve with truly great leaders, colleagues, and followers.  I’ve been mentored by people who had a much more expansive experience than I.  I’ve had friends who have given me a different perspective on how to lead.  And I’ve led young troops that educated me much more than they realized.  I thank God every day for all those blessings, for all those people, that have helped make me who I am.

As our mighty Air Force turns 75, and as I pack up that last box, I’m so grateful for having been a part of the legacy its people have created and maintained for all those years. Technology has enabled the Force to grow expansively, and great leaders have empowered the Force to grow deeper. That combination has been, and will continue to be, unstoppable. I call it HEIRPOWER! 

The last piece of history I put in its box was a plaque made for me by some young Airmen for whom I have the highest respect.  That piece of art puts everything in the proper perspective.  It quotes an old warrior that loved what he did every day of his military life.  That quote will echo in that warrior’s heart for as long as he lives.  It simply reads,  “Isn’t this a GREAT day to be an American Warrior?!” Happy Birthday, US Air Force!

ALL IN! ALL THE TIME!

Why we work

My Dad and My Tío Rulie taught me how to work. Let me share what I learned from another of my First Mentors, my grandfather, My Abuelo, Firpo. Firpo was a tough man. He grew up in Mexico in an Old School culture. Machismo, in those days, had nothing to do with being arrogant. It had a lot to do with taking care of your family. A man’s first priority was to work to protect and care for his family.

 

As I say, Firpo was a tough man. He expected me to be tough, too. He was brought up under the “I’ll give you something to cry about” mentality, so he treated me as such. He never hit me, but he admonished me plenty. I remember one big fight we had because he expected me to wear a hat. He wore a fedora, as most men did then. He didn’t expect me to wear a fedora, but a man wore a hat. That is all! Interestingly, I’ve worn a hat since 1972, when I joined the Air Force. To this day, I very seldom go outside without a hat on. Love you, Firpo!

 

My Abuelo, Firpo, died in 1968, of pancreatic cancer. Might have been from all of the incredibly hot chiles he used to eat. I can see him sitting at the head of the table, sweating profusely, tears streaming down his cheeks, and asking for hotter chiles. Raw would do.

 

One day, probably 1973, or so, I was sitting at lunch with My Abuela, Elvira, talking about the old days and the value of working. She was telling me about how hard My Dad, My Tío, and My Abuelo had worked to provide for the family. All of a sudden, a thought struck her and she got up from the table. She went into her bedroom for a few minutes, returned, sat down where she had been sitting, and plopped something onto the table. It was a silver dollar. 

 

She looked me in the eye, tearing up, and told me that Firpo had left that silver dollar for me. She’d forgotten about it until just now. She had promised him she would tell me that “as long as you have this, you’ll never be broke!” He’d worked hard to earn that dollar and wanted to ensure some security for me. What he taught me was way bigger than what a silver dollar is worth. He taught me to be honorable in all that I do.

 

Why do we work? To provide for ourselves and our families. We provide them the security and essentials they need to survive. We also provide them the love and care they need to grow into themselves.

 

I still have that silver dollar, by the way. I keep it in a safe place where I see it often. When I do, it reminds me that I’m not just working to put food on the table and a roof over my family’s heads, but to show them that working is honorable. Mother Theresa said that “our work is our prayer.” I pray that the work we do today will help others empower themselves to grow. I call that HEIRPOWER!

Until next time, Be GREAT! You ARE!

 

                    ¡HEIRPOWER!

 

                            bob vásquez!

A Labor of Love

On this Labor Day, I’m grateful for not having had to work at hard labor like my two First Mentors, My Dad and My Tío Rulie. Their sacrifices, mentoring, and guidance led me to achieve more than I could have ever dreamed. Okay, I dreamed it, but didn’t expect it to happen.

 

I’ve worked for as long as I can remember. My first job was delivering newspapers in my little hometown of Deming, New Mexico. I used to be up at zero-dark-thirty (maybe that’s where I started that habit), ride my bike to the newspaper office where I’d roll up the newspapers that Mr Smalley gave me to deliver that morning, then, I’d get on my bike and ride down the street where all the railroad houses were. I’d, then, pitch the newspapers onto my customers’ porches. Luckily, they were big porches. I usually couldn’t see whether or not my papers met their targets, since it was still dark, but I could hear them thump onto the wooden decks. The worst part of that gig was having to collect my customers’ money every month. I had to find my customers at home, which was as random as there were customers. 

 

My Dad was key to my developing my work ethic. He worked at DPAC, a meat packing company, for most of my school years. He, too, would get up at zero-dark-thirty to get to work. I’m not sure how many hours he put in, but based on when I saw him, he must have worked at least ten hours daily and six on Saturdays. I was honored to work with him on Saturdays and during the summer. I was always awed by how hard he worked, never complaining, always teaching me about how important it was to do a good day’s work.

 

My Tío Rulie was, like My Dad, a very hard worker. I’d spend summers with him and my aunt, Mama Joyce, in Buena Park, California. He was a baker. Another zero-dark-thirty job. I remember him coming home, about the time I would be leaving for work at the Lincoln and Knott Car Wash, barely able to walk. He, too, never complained.

 

I’m suffering from phantom pains as I type, which is hurting me to do right now. I went out and did several hours of yard work yesterday. My hands and arms are still cramping up from holding the tools I used. Just as they did when I picked onions and, especially, as they did the first day I worked at the car wash. I remember My Tío picking me up from work and me vowing never to return. He laughed and made me return…every day…until it didn’t hurt so much. I’m grateful for that now. 

 

We lead in many ways, at work and at home. Those men showed me the value of doing good work at the job and, more importantly, doing good work at home, showing me the benefits of honorable labor. Whether we’re leading our fellow workers or our families, the best we can do is give them roots and wings. We provide the roots by showing them the value of honorable work and then we let them go to do the work themselves.

 

My Dad and My Tío gave me a gift that will transcend even my own existence because I’ve been doing the same for others for decades. It’s all a labor of love!

 

        Until next time, Be GREAT! You ARE!

 

                     ¡HEIRPOWER!

                                                 

                                    bob vásquez!