Opinion: Would you sit at this table?

Over a lifetime of searching to understand my immigrant story in the taquerias of California, I have come to three conclusions:

1. It is their country and not my country so I tread cautiously and lawfully.

2. I don't waste my time trying to change this country into something it is not, regardless of what it purports to be.

3. I have to get as cold-hearted and clinical as possible if I want to find opportunities for myself in the U.S.A.

The first two rules are easy because they emerge from a place of outright acceptance. They require no internal struggle, no bargaining with oneself. They are simply the immigrant's reality check as the price of admission into American society. I willingly pay my brown tax. But the third rule - being clinical - demands something far more complex: The active reshaping of one's authentic self to fit into spaces of power and influence.

In late December, I was sent an invitation to The Hispanic Inaugural Ball taking place on January 18 in Washington, D.C. In a best-case scenario, if I had real power and wealth as a known banker in political circles, I would be seated at the head table with Bernie Moreno, Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio.

These men represent a particular brand of Latino success in America - one that involves distancing oneself from the broader immigrant community's struggles. Especially, the most vulnerable. Their politics consistently align with forces that would have made their own families' immigration journeys impossible today. Yet, their wet feet will sit at the pinnacle of dry power for the next four years. Their presence atop the Hispanic Ball is a testament to what "cynical" decision-making can achieve. In my house, we call these types of “cynicists:” Cínicos desvergonzados.

In attempting to be equally as cynical about this opportunity, I would have to weigh the potential outcome of being seated at this specific table. Ultimately, best case scenario, I might parlay these relationships into an ambassadorship in a desirable destination but to do so, I have to develop positive financial relationships with these three men. I have to raise enough money for them to perform their misdeeds. I have to be complicit.

Is this what I want to do? No. So, how do I compel myself into a "Yes"? How have other Latinos before I surrendered their authentic selves to be this cynical in order to be opportunistic? In attempting to capture the immigrant's dilemma between pragmatic advancement and personal authenticity, the Hispanic Inaugural Ball example effectively illustrates this tension - whether to network and capitalize politicians for potential opportunities, even when it feels like a "surrender" of one's authentic self. This should not just be seen as my personal struggle, but as a question many immigrants face: How to be "cynical" about opportunities without losing oneself in the process.

Being cynical about opportunities in America isn't just about calculating gains and losses. It is about recognizing that every "yes" or "no" shapes not only our individual paths but also what future immigrants might feel compelled to surrender. Perhaps the most cyncical decision of all is knowing when to walk away from opportunities that demand too much of our authentic selves.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Over my career, I have watched others navigate this path before me. In my opinion, most Latino leaders have paid a heavy price, their public personas becoming unrecognizable to their communities. The spectrum of their compromise stretches wide.

Who has real power in the United States over the next four years and is capable of providing me with a lucrative financial opportunity that harmonizes with my voice? I pose that complex question not only to myself but to the readers of CALÓ News.