Everything Julian Castro Knows He Learned From His Mother

[TexasTowelie]

Along the back wall of Pico de Gallo restaurant, in downtown San Antonio, beyond the cases of pan dulce, looms a colorful, 33-foot mural painted by local artist Armando Sánchez in the style of da Vinci’s Last Supper. It depicts 74 notables, virtually all of them Hispanic, including Medal of Honor recipient Roy Benavidez; civil rights icon Dolores Huerta; Tejano singer Selena; and Willie Velasquez, the founder of the Southwest Voter Registration Education Project.

The viewer’s eye is drawn to the center of the mural by the image of la Virgen de Guadalupe, Mexico’s most revered religious figure, who hovers over the only family depicted in this painting: the Castros. Just beneath the Virgin is the image of Maria del Rosario “Rosie” Castro, to whom the artist dedicated the mural, in 2013. On the table in front of her is a framed picture of her late mother, who emigrated as an orphan from Mexico to the United States. But the focal point is Rosie, whose reputation as a longtime community activist understates what is arguably her most significant contribution to San Antonio and to America. Flanking her in the mural are the two figures who may turn out to be her greatest legacy: her twin sons, Joaquin, a U.S. congressman who by all appearances is gearing up to challenge John Cornyn for his Senate seat, and Julián, the former mayor of San Antonio and a current candidate for president. Together, the two men personify the political hopes of millions of Hispanics, who make up one of the fastest-growing demographics in this country.

It’s early at Pico de Gallo, a gathering spot for politicos, and months before Julián would invoke his grandmother’s journey and his mother’s passion for politics as he declared his candidacy for president. I take a table close to the mural, and as I’m scanning it to see how many faces I recognize, the painting’s dedicatee quietly walks up behind me and introduces herself.

At this hour, there are few patrons in the restaurant, but our waiter immediately comes over, a look of recognition on his face, to warmly greet her as she takes a seat. She’s dressed casually in a pantsuit and, at 71, has the appearance of someone at ease in her retirement following a long, often contentious career in politics and education. Rosie isn’t as well-known as her sons, but in this town she forged her own path as an activist for Hispanic opportunity and representation. She employed a fierce and outspoken style, as was appropriate, she says, for a different time—one when it was not uncommon throughout the Southwest to see stores with signs that read “No Dogs or Mexicans Allowed.” That attitude was pervasive, even among city leaders. In 1970, when she was in her early twenties, Rosie and a group of fellow activists were arrested while picketing the San Antonio Savings Association, which was owned by Mayor William McAllister, who had said of the city’s Hispanic population, “They’re home-loving. They love beauty. They love flowers. They love music. They love dancing. Perhaps they’re not quite as, uh, let’s say, ambitiously motivated as the Anglos are to get ahead financially, but they manage to get a lot out of life.”

Read more: https://www.texasmonthly.com/politics/everything-julian-castro-knows-he-learned-from-his-mother/

[rogue emissary]

1. One the biggest reasons I could vote for him in the primary.

It's not just he learned a lot, but his mother and grandmother are what connect him to his political activism.