Introduction
I was born in the bedroom of a small stone house in San Juan, Puerto Rico, to a "woman" 16 years old. We grew up together, mom and I, with folks often asking if we were brother and sister. I come from a long history of steadfast, educated men, but it was my mother who taught me true strength. For 23 years of my life she alone carried us through an uncaring macho world without an education, through sheer force of will. Seeing her struggle to thrive on $600 a month taught me fierce determination, to never give up in the face of daunting odds. I learned to fight for survival and to hunger for success from a woman who invented names for egg sandwiches so I would not know it was the only sustenance we had. Her only child is graduating now, and in addition to raising him without welfare, she has acquired a degree of her own: a master’s in art history.
Cultural Background
My birth signaled the end of my parents’ missionary work in Puerto Rico as well as their marriage. Six weeks later we arrived in Matamoros, Mexico, the border town from where most of my family hales. Matamoros, and its sister city Brownsville, Texas, occupy a place not here, nor there between the United States and Mexico. Linked integrally by bridges, this composite community has imprinted upon my character a unique blend of the best cultural flavors. I move through both worlds and both worlds are me. Together they form a third entity, the place from where I arise – a place where I both belong and feel alienated. My mother speaks to me in Spanish, I reply in English. My roots run deep there. At the turn of the century Don Lucho, my great-grandfather, brought electricity to Matamoros as mayor, or alcalde. My great-great-uncle founded the Red Cross in Monterrey, Mexico. And as a child I played on the rooftop of the old Hotel Colonial, a business my family owned and operated until the most recent peso devaluation snuffed the life from the 40 year-old venture.
My forefathers were bold individuals whose strength and character made them leaders of their community – not through rhetoric, but through the virtues of educación, which has no English equivalent. It signifies an individual’s education level, but more importantly, it means manners. Politeness and knowing when to say "thank you" are but rotes – educación entails a profound manner of appreciating people and treating them with dignity and respect. It is a humbleness tempered by strength, where one carries oneself with noblesse, yet devoid of pride. In Mexican South Texas and northern Mexico, these are not these are not the manners of the rich and the landed, they are the character of everyday people. The legacy of educación has imparted in me integrity, a sense of honor, and a kind of self-actualization informed by these virtues and not by greed or ambition. The weight of my heritage impels me to achieve the self-made education of my forefathers and to retrace their steps of public service, through the pen or office.
That the English language has no equivalent for educación is a perfect metaphor my experience growing up Mexican-American on the U.S.-Mexico border. I have access to both worlds and move through them freely. The blood in my veins flows in the rich colors of Mexican heritage and yet I am a full participant in this nation. As a critic of the many problems in this country’s history I am a true patriot, one who loves his country enough to work actively toward fixing it. Given my dual heritage, I recognize the importance of understanding others’ perspectives. This critical awareness will aid me as an arbiter, lawyer and journalist.
Socio-Economic Considerations
My culture instilled in me a pride in learning and education and I feel my status as a Mexican-American has furthered my educational development. The economic disadvantage of being raised by a single mother, however, has denied me the full opportunity to succeed academically. I have lived a life wracked by my family’s many divorces, and all of the men in my life, with the exception of my grandfather, have continually come and gone. My mother’s third failed marriage left me an uncertain young man, facing an unknown life at the university without anyone versed in the ways of academia to guide me. During my studies for the LSAT, my biological father, who is an alcoholic, was incarcerated for check-writing fraud. Yet I have thrived. These odds make my successes greater than those of students with cozy safety nets and stable families. They demonstrate my ability to face a challenge and succeed, avoiding victimization. The ability to move through the worlds of Mexico, South Texas and the United States coupled with a culturally-infused respect for being learned has tempered in me an worldview that pervades every aspect of my being.
Community Journalism
I carry a burden. As an educated young man from a community starved for opportunity and peopled with young minds wasted, I feel a responsibility to give back. The goal of moving through law school in hopes of someday enacting societal change has become a cliché. Yet advocacy is nothing new to me. My reporting work at The Brownsville Herald and Tejas, a UT publication, illustrate a pattern of community journalism that encompasses issues of consumer protection on telecommunications, education, and politics. My style of watchdog reporting has its roots with the journalists of Texas-Mexican history dating back to the 1820s. My predecessors include Santiago Guzmán and his 1930s newspaper, El Defensor, which according to historians "emphasized the dual heritage of some Tejanos and reflected a state of mind shaped by growing up in two cultural spheres," while defending and informing the public. I have met many economic and familial challenges, surmounted them, and worked to improve the lives of others.
I’ve labeled my fierce desire for change a burden. But while a weight accompanies my goals, an uplifting joy also motivates my work. Reading students’ replies to my columns and speaking before students in high school, junior high, and college about education has humbled me. Taking a small part in touching the lives of others is a tremendous privilege. Several years ago, my reporting at The Herald resulted in the reinstatement of three rookie firefighters who were fired because of a family grudge. Most of them had decided to have children and buy homes based on the security of their new jobs. Termination meant ruin. After a summer of Texas Open Records Act requests and through a series of articles covering every aspect of the firefighters’ appeal, I got their jobs back. My reward was simple: seeing Samuel Luna with his wife and their newborn child Christmas shopping at the mall.
As another example of the effect my writing has had on others, I submit Marielia Bernal’s journal entry: "I agree with Oscar Cisneros because education is the only way to succeed in life," wrote the 17-year-old Brownsville resident on October 16, 1997. Her poor grammar articulates her family’s academic background: "In my case, I have decided to stay in school and don’t give up." Miss Bernal’s writing assignment comes in response to a column I wrote in 1995 for The Brownsville Herald. Like a ghost from the past, this often-photocopied column has resurfaced in my life after three years. In that time, it has been passed from teacher to teacher like a gem of insight, a bauble of knowledge, and read to students in a town declared "poorest city in the nation" several years ago. Brownsville educators have used my words to continue a dialogue that I have long since left, perpetuating the column’s original purpose – education. Yet the journal entries (included in your packet) of these students from Porter High, one of Brownsville’s poorest schools, have taught me a lesson. Change is possible. We can’t change the world, but we can do what we can within our influence. I am blessed with a still-developing ability to write and the medium of newspapers has enabled me to enact change in my community.
Telecommincations Issues
This retrospective account catalogs the endeavors of my past but thus far I have avoided the topic most prevalent in my mind: The future. In one year, I leapt from computer illiteracy to Internet tech support. I was fortunate. My family chose to invest the peso-devalued money from the sale of my grandfather’s Hotel Colonial to purchase me a computer. Having been previously denied access to the world of computers because of a lack of resources, I hungrily embraced this new technology. The investment of my ancestors’ time and energy in my future paid off: I now understand and use computers more readily than people who have owned them for a decade. I also have a marketable skill to show for it. My interaction with these machines is typical of the way I work. I devour knowledge, incorporate it into my life, and then use it to help others. Originally attracted to the telecommunications industry through my newspaper coverage, I later sought a job in that field to learn more about it while I worked my way through college. Even in my computer illiterate days I recognized that the Information Age was quickly isolating large numbers of people. The "information have-nots" are disproportionately represented in my native Lower Rio Grande Valley and any place where concentrations of the poor exist. As a journalist with The Brownsville Herald, I covered the Federal Communications Commission’s implementation of the Cable Act of 1991 as it related to cable rates and consumer rights. My co-workers dubbed me the "cable reporter" and I laughed along with them. But I knew better. As the only Valley journalist in tune with the telecommunications issues of the day, I knew I had a responsibility to provide exhaustive coverage to the public - they needed to know their rights. This responsibility stemmed from both journalistic ethics and my own, stricter standards of what is right and wrong. My fierce advocacy netted results. Some successes were as intangible as a more informed public; thanks to my ability to explain complex technical information in a light, digestible format, The Herald’s readers learned how to avoid long-distance scams and their rights as consumers. Other victories included forcing Southwestern Bell to move up its introduction of ISDN (a faster form of transmitting internet-based data) to the Valley by more than a year and a half. And I was informed by librarians that my reporting generated interest in the Internet which subsequently led to the use of other library facilities. My familiarity with the telecommunications industry was borne of my own curiosity, and with the knowledge and skills in my hands, I did what I could do within the limits of my power. Synthesis - putting the pieces of two or more puzzles together - is my strength. The ostensibly disparate worlds of literature, technology, and journalism have yielded impressive results when my sculptor hands worked these elements.
Computers and the Mexican-American Community
The Information Age promises two things: 1) To isolate the Valley further or 2) to make it part of the so-called Global Village and thereby enhance the worldview of its citizens and provide more opportunity. The ability to imagine a different course for one’s life marks the first step toward making change and the Internet’s global nature presents differing and diverse configurations of life. Brownsville children currently do not have access to this information. The Valley suffers from the poor infrastructure of a limited number of Internet Service Providers and many schools are only now joining the on-line bandwagon. My story (included in your packet) on Valley libraries linking together through the Internet metaphorically explains my vision for the information have-nots: The networked community. More than 400,000 people live dispersed in a two-county, mostly rural area separated by distance, joined by roads. The representation these people receive does not equal the political clout of most similarly sized cities. I believe the networked community – a web-like conglomerate of informed people – can change that if the resources and training are in place. For more information, see my yet to be printed feature on computer and Internet literacy in South Texas.
Law and the Information Age
My interest in technology is not limited to its effect on Mexican-Americans and the poor. I avidly follow industry news because I want to take part in the ongoing dialogue. The sparring between Sun Microsystems and Microsoft over Java does not simply boil down to a dispute over Microsoft holding up to its side of a contract. The debate is really about fundamentally opposed ways of sharing information: Microsoft wants proprietary systems that it controls, while Sun seeks to push Java – a programming language that allows all computers to speak the same language – from its infant-like steps into an international, shared standard. The decisions being made today will dramatically alter the course of history and the Information Age. The individuals fighting Microsoft at the Justice Department have my support – although somewhat grudgingly, since they are running a little late. The Information Age is like a freshly-cut pasture. Left unchecked, weeds take over, suffocating the growth of beautiful multiplicity in favor of a lesser, but thriving form. Monopoly-busting lawyers are the gardeners of society. Hired by the people, they trim here and there, lovingly encouraging growth. I want a part of this care-taking process or to at least join the debate.
Some pressing questions face our legal system today. How will the ponderous, deliberatory courts handle cases with as short a shelf-life as milk? The browser battles between Microsoft and Netscape Communications Corp. form a perfect example. We regularly accuse foreign countries of "dumping" products in the U.S. to kill our industries, but no one questions why Microsoft would make its Web browser free. Microsoft's anti-competitive bid to force PC manufacturers to pre-install its browser, Internet Explorer, could kill Netscape. Not-so-savvy users will not hassle with a new browser if one is already installed, one click away. The Department of Justice and Microsoft have settled an agreement on that company's compliance with a 1995 consent decree, but the seamless integration of Internet Explorer with Windows98 (which will see release later this year) promises to make this pre-installed browser case even more significant. An integrated Internet Explorer will forcibly bring about the obsolescence of browsers external to the operating system.
Through my experience as an internet support technician I have acquired a sense of the varying computer literacy levels of the average user. Again and again I have seen users stick to the browser (Internet Explorer) that came preinstalled on their system. I have also seen the intimidation and struggles of novice users when downloading and installing browsers on their systems. It is this first hand knowledge that leads me to conclude that Microsoft, left unchecked, will win the browser wars. The implications of such a "victory" lead to a potential loss for society. Internal Microsoft memos make it clear that one of the company's strategies in the browser wars is to control web content by making it viewable only by its browser. With Microsoft's history of monopolistic practices, one can easily imagine a future where all Web pages must be registered and approved by the company because their browser, Internet Explorer, is the only one on the market. This would kill the revolutionary impact of the World Wide Web. Publishing information for a worldwide audience is free and easy these days - changing this is like derailing the invention of the printing press. My interest in law stems in part from a feeling of helplessness. I have access to information that demands attention, but lack the skills or connections to address these issues in a real fashion.
Conclusions
