Fall 2008 Issue

Alumni Spotlight: Victor Juarez

Uncommon Commitment

By Amy Spies Karhliker

Victor Juarez

While some may doubt the friendly nature of the Internal Revenue Service, Victor Juarez ’87 ACC works there and is very happy.

After 20 years as an agent, Juarez is now part of the chain of command that reports to the U.S. Congress as a taxpayer advocate. “It’s my dream job,” he said. “I get to help people all day long now.”

This “help” has taken two forms: In his professional life, Juarez has been particularly concerned with the immigrant and limited English-proficient communities. As a volunteer, he contributes his time and expertise to a variety of organizations, including the Girl Scouts, the Springfield Chamber of Commerce, the American Civil Liberties Union Springfield Steering Committee and IMAGE Inc., a Latino advocacy and education organization.

Juarez does all of this because he feels that providing the Latino perspective is important. He wants to educate all Americans on the nuances and subtleties of what “Hispanic” and “Latino” mean, and he wants to help Hispanics realize their potential for success in the United States.

The complexities of a label

Juarez’s work is important for at least two reasons: First, the Latino and Hispanic populations are the fastest growing in the U.S.; second, language and cultural misunderstandings between Latinos and whites (Anglos) continue to result in racism. “The Latino population makes up [more than] 20 percent of this country’s population today,” he pointed out. “It’s the youngest population in the country with the average age at 25. And they keep coming.”

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, that group is growing at nearly three times the rate of the total U.S. population. The 2006 American Community Survey identifies seven categories of “Hispanic:” Mexican (accounting for 64 percent of the Hispanic population), Puerto Rican (9 percent), Cuban (3.4 percent), Dominican (2.8 percent), Central American (7.6 percent), South American (5.5 percent) and “Other” Hispanic (7.7 percent).

But the Census Bureau also allows people to “write in” their identity; as a result, more than 30 subgroups of “Hispanic origin” exist. From a cultural standpoint, each “group” is distinct. That is, “Hispanic” does not and cannot be informative with regard to the specifics of cultural practice.

The fact that “Hispanic” can be defined by geography and not necessarily heritage further complicates use of the term. In other words, the Germans, Italians, Spanish, Portuguese and various African groups all settled — either of their own accord or by force — in Central and South America and the Caribbean. Their descendants, who might choose to immigrate to the U.S., would thus be classified as “Hispanic” under the U.S. Census Bureau definitions.

Additionally, while Spanish is a common language among “Latinos” and “Hispanics,” countless dialects and differences are used. Portuguese is also an official language in some Latin American countries; Native Americans, with their own languages, also reside in the geographic regions of Central and South America. Categorizing someone, then, on the basis of “Hispanic” or “Latino” is only partially informative; the terms describe people from a certain region but the people and the region are in no way homogenous. Ignoring these complexities and nuances serves to foster misunderstanding and, in its worst form, may lead to racism.

Daisy and Victor Juarez and Gustavo Saberbein, former treasury secretary of Peru

Keep on truckin’

Juarez, who came to the U.S. in the mid-1970s when he was about 21 years of age, was raised in Lima, Peru (one of the 30 subcategories). His brother had come to Arkansas on a Fulbright Scholarship as a student, eventually moving to Edwardsville to pursue a master’s in economics from Southern Illinois University at Edwardsville and then to Springfield. Juarez followed, bypassing Arkansas, and going to SIUE to pursue of a bachelor’s degree in economics.

He had already completed a year of college in an economics program in Peru. But at SIUE, the language barrier — the complexity of the reading and the speed of the speaking — was insurmountable. He failed the class and quit college for a time.

Juarez’s soon-to-be wife, Daisy Langston, though, continued to go to school in Edwardsville while Juarez lived in Springfield. He hitchhiked every weekend to see her. In the course of those experiences, Juarez learned the subtleties and nuances of spoken English — odd colloquialisms, the humor and some rules. “I learned phrases like ‘keep on truckin,’” he joked. “I didn’t know what that meant.” And also,“don’t talk about religion or politics.” he said. “Talking about the weather is always appropriate.”

By 1980, Juarez and Daisy had married and settled in Springfield. They had their first son in 1984. Juarez worked at a local school, where in 1985 he was promised a substantial raise. Daisy got pregnant with their second son — and the raise turned out to be pennies per hour. So he took a chance, quit his job and enrolled as a full-time student at Sangamon State University.

Juarez has fond memories of SSU. He found the small classes beneficial and helpful. “The professors made a difficult subject enjoyable,” he said. “They made you feel like you were an accounting professional.”

Juarez’s favorite professor was Dr. Don Stanhope, who now has a UIS scholarship named after him. “He made accounting fun; he took the fear out of the profession,” said Juarez. “He broke things out, explained them and made them simple. He helped us understand what we were doing it for.”

In 1987, Juarez graduated and immediately got a job with the IRS.

Eventually, the Juarezes brought another brother, their sisters and their parents to the States to maintain their sense of family.

Gustavo Saberbein, former treasury secretary of Peru, Consul General of Peru Efrain Saavedra and Victor Juarez

Bridging the gap

An example of Juarez’s work involves the ever-changing immigration laws. Civil and criminal laws have different requirements, which mean law enforcement personnel must constantly explain complex legal issues across language and cultural barriers. Without good communication, a simple traffic stop can become a legal and human rights incident.

In order to help bridge that gap, Juarez volunteers as a translator. If the police stop or arrest a person who speaks only Spanish, Juarez provides his services so the person understands what is happening and why. He also makes sure the police are fair.

As a member of the ACLU Springfield Steering Committee, Juarez has toured the Sangamon County Jail to make sure conditions are up to par. Rather than antagonistic, the tour was intended to be supportive and informative so that law enforcement personnel could get the information they need while still treating people with dignity and respect.

Juarez also founded a central Illinois chapter of IMAGE Inc., which, according to its Web site, was founded in 1972 to address the needs of Latino employees of the federal government. The organization has since expanded to serve all Latinos and added to its mission education and civil rights.

Juarez initially traveled to St. Louis to participate in IMAGE Inc. meetings. But the time spent on the road, the expense and winter weather eventually became too difficult and inconvenient. Noticing that IMAGE Inc. did not have a presence in Illinois, he subsequently founded a chapter in Springfield in 1995, serving as its first president and eventually on the national board of directors. Juarez was named the 1999 board member of the year for that organization. Through IMAGE Inc., he has been able to reach out to other groups and community members to bridge the cultural gap.

Beardstown battle

It was in this capacity that Juarez also played an important role in getting the Hispanic and Anglo communities in Beardstown, a small town along the Illinois River, to talk to each other in the middle of a cultural war there.

Historically, Beardstown had been an almost exclusively white community for some 160 years. A significant force in the town’s economy had been the Oscar Meyer meat plant. But it closed, resulting in more than 800 people without the $8.75-per-hour job.

Eventually, Excel Corp.’s Cargill Meat Solutions purchased the plant and hired back about 250 of the laid-off Oscar Meyer workers — at $6.50 per hour.

Job conditions in a meat-packing plant are difficult by the very nature of the work that’s done there: More than 5,000 animals can come through any one plant in a single day (according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, 404,620 hogs were slaughtered on Nov. 19, 2008, alone); 250-pound hogs are butchered with razor-sharp knives and saws in just under five seconds each. That kind of repetitive, dangerous work can result in injury.

Cargill cited astronomical workers’ compensation costs from these rehired Oscar Meyer employees as reason enough to replace them with Hispanic workers recruited from near the U.S.-Mexican border. According to S. Lynne Walker in her 2004 award-winning series, “Beardstown: Reflection of a Changing America,” Cargill understood that Mexican immigrant workers wouldn’t complain about every pain they experienced.

Overnight, it seemed to many Beardstown residents, the Latino community boomed. Ideas about their lifestyles and their willingness to take low-paying jobs created resentment and fear among some in the Anglo community. Add to these ideas some misunderstandings the immigrants had of the law (for instance, some didn’t understand that to drive a car in the U.S., insurance and a license are required because in Mexico they aren’t), and conflict began brewing.

All of this to say that a high level of tension and volatility between the Hispanic and Anglo communities in Beardstown had existed for some time when, on Aug. 10, 1996, Jorge Arambula, a Mexican immigrant working at the meat-packing plant in Beardstown, for unclear reasons shot and killed Travis Brewer in front of the El Flamingo Tavern. Arambula fled back to Mexico, Brewer was dead, and Beardstown nearly exploded with hatred and resentment. The fear-mongering Ku Klux Klan was rumored to come to town, “someone” burned a cross in front of the El Flamingo... then burned the El Flamingo…. and then threatened other small Beardstown businesses if they didn’t curtail their contact with the Latino community.

Thus was Beardstown’s climate when, a week after the shooting and days after the arsons, an English-as-a-Second-Language teacher there contacted Juarez as president of the Springfield IMAGE chapter, to please help people understand each other. Because his professional experience at the IRS, as well as his volunteer experience as a translator, included relieving stressful, volatile situations, Juarez knew he could be helpful in negotiating a truce and establishing communication among all of the parties. But he was worried, too. Juarez asked a number of colleagues to go with him, “but they heard the KKK was coming,” he said, “so I had to go alone.”

Juarez traveled to Beardstown repeatedly for a period of about six weeks. He helped the Latino and Anglo communities and law enforcement actually talk to each other. The local clergy, as well as members of the community, established an organization called Beardstown United that set to work on achieving harmony. Their efforts resulted in a fair level of success, as demonstrated by the town’s observance of Mexican holidays and increased inclusion in community parades and other events.

Juarez credits the involvement of all of the stakeholders in the peace process for its success, saying he merely served as mediator. He is not singled out in any report or article as the hero. But the risks Juarez took, the fears he faced — his own and everyone else’s — and the work he did resulted in a community that was able to come together and live, if in fits and starts, together.

Victor Juarez, son Alexander and wife Daisy, all have UIS degrees

A life of commitment

As a result of his work helping the immigrant and limited-English communities, Juarez received the first Large & Midsize Business Division’s 2007 Diversity Equal Employment Opportunity Award, a national honor.

Further, Juarez was one of two people nominated in 2007 for the Peruvian of the Year by the Consul General of Peru in Chicago, for his activism demonstrating his commitment to his heritage and his desire to ensure the health and vitality of the Latino community in the U.S.

“I volunteer because I want to make a difference in the community I live in,” he said. “We’re part of this community.”

And Juarez keeps to heart a lesson he learned while hitchhiking: “Everybody is basically good,” he said, “and we all want the same thing.”

This knowledge, combined with his professional expertise, personal experience and sense of honor and compassion, created an advocate of uncommon commitment.