it could happen anywhere, including the United States. They were, understandably, more conservative, anti-communist and, because of the Bay of Pigs fiasco, anti-Kennedy, anti-Democratic Party. Cuba is where they were born, where they had started their lives. It didn’t matter how long it took; they could not stop dreaming of their return. My generation shares these strong feelings about one day returning to live in or at least visit our country of birth. When we live the pain and witness the tears, those of us who have lost their parents no doubt reflect that their parents have passed away without realizing their dream of being buried in the country where they were born.
The political gulf between our generations widened when my call to public service led me to actively participate in a number of local organizations. Many in our community believed this action treasonous. Why are you forming or becoming a member of community-based organizations—groups dealing with the elderly, education and youth? Because the plan was always to return to Cuba, there was no need for such organizations. It was as if being involved in any kind of organization not focused on overthrowing Castro was an acknowledgement of a truth no one wanted to admit—that we weren’t going back, at least not for a very long time. This was a harsh reality for my parents and their generation. They were focused on change in Cuba. Many in my generation focused on change in Miami and of building our future in our new country.
I HAD MY first taste of politics in high school. It was in ninth grade, when I joined the A class, the class with the more studious kids. They were holding elections for class president. One of the students turned to me and asked if I would like him to nominate me. Another student offered to second the nomination. Fearing the smarter kids would not vote for a street jock, I accepted nevertheless and then became class president. It happened again in tenth and eleventh grades. My senior year, I was elected school president. This experience would serve as the launching pad for my career in public service.
At the first opportunity, I registered to vote as a member of the Democratic Party, despite the fact that my parents and most other Cuban Americans at the time were registering as Republicans. Friends of my parents would often refer to me as “Fidelito” (little Fidel) because of the Belen connection and because they considered me a liberal. “He’s too young to be a communist, so we’ll just call him a ‘pinko’ or ‘little Fidel.’” Of course, they meant this endearingly.
The summer of my graduating year, I married my high school sweetheart. That was not my immediate post-graduation plan. Rather, I had planned to attend Columbia University in New York City on an academic scholarship, where I would join my best friend and former basketball teammate, Pedro Mencia. Concerned about starting a family so far from home, I decided to enroll at Miami Dade Community College, the largest community college in America, now known as Miami Dade College. I graduated with high honors at both Miami Dade College (1975) and Florida International University (1977). I attended both institutions on a full-time basis, worked full-time (often holding multiple jobs at one time), and regularly played the role of Mr. Mom, staying home to care for my son Manny while my wife worked and went to school to pursue her career in nursing.
Working full-time made it possible to pay for my studies and support my family. In fact, I never had to borrow money to finance any portion of my undergraduate education. Regrettably, while many state governments profess to lower taxes, they are continually raising fees, including college tuition. Tax and budgeting decisions are supposed to reflect a society’s priorities. Obviously, these legislators do not place a high priority on postsecondary education and the future of our state. I am shocked by the costs of a college education today, and wonder whether it would have been possible for me to achieve what I did under these circumstances.
In juggling full-time work with a full-time school schedule, I was employed in a hodgepodge of jobs. I served as executive director of the Spanish Speaking Democratic Caucus. I served as a youth counselor and soccer coach for Hebraica (a social group of Cuban Jews); I had a field inventory route for the National Enquirer; I cleaned a bingo parlor between 4:00 and 7:00 A.M. (my first class started at 8:00 A.M.); I worked as an administrator of a surgical center at a local HMO; I was a private tutor in math and English for junior high and high school students; I served as campaign coordinator and chairman for various local and state races; and I would continue to do weekend and summer work at the auto parts factory where my parents still worked.
I attended the University of Miami School of Law. During my first year, I secured student loans (all of which were paid off on schedule). It was the policy of the law school to schedule classes throughout the day so that students would not be able to hold an outside job during their first year. After my first year, I was fortunate to secure a clerking job at an old-line Miami law firm, and I continued thereafter to work full-time throughout the balance of law school, while maintaining a full class load. I became the first member of my family to be awarded a college and professional degree.
ALTHOUGH I WAS quite busy studying, working, and raising a family, I never lost sight of politics. My first foray occurred immediately after graduating from high school. In 1973, I worked on my first political campaign. The mayor of Miami, David Kennedy, had been removed from office. Maurice Ferre had been appointed to fill out the remainder of Kennedy’s term and was now standing for election. A local businessman, Jim Angleton, was running against Ferre and against public corruption. It was music to the ears of a young idealist.
One Saturday morning, I drove to Overtown, a black neighborhood of Miami. The Ministers-Laymen Group in Overtown hosted a weekly breakfast and that day they were staging a debate between the mayoral candidates. I had already pegged Ferre as part of the same corrupt politics that had spawned Kennedy. Angleton portrayed himself as a religiously motivated businessman who wanted to change the world, change Miami. I thought to myself: that’s just what Miami needs, someone like him.
I approached him after the debate and offered to help in his campaign. And I did. This was to be my first actual campaign job. We had an incredible grassroots operation, which included many of my Belen friends whom I recruited. With a throng of young volunteers, we walked door-to-door throughout the city. We did well, but Angleton fell a few points short. Nearly thirty years later I ran for mayor against Maurice and beat him.
I soon became deeply involved in Democratic Party politics. I became executive director of the Spanish Speaking Democratic Caucus. I was the kid in a group of very prominent community leaders. At Miami Dade College, I helped form a Young Democrats chapter that became the largest in the State of Florida and helped elect a statewide president from Miami, Kendall Coffey, who coincidentally would become my law partner years later.
I continued to sharpen my organizational skills within the Democratic Party. In 1974, the local party was controlled by Joe Robbie, former owner of the Miami Dolphins. Robbie had come to Miami from Minnesota, where he had been a state house member. He also had connections with Hubert Humphrey, the Minnesota senator and former vice president. The local executive committee—of which Robbie was chairman—comprised forty men and forty women. A group of young organizers—Mike Abrams, Sergio Bendixen, Mike O’Donovan, and myself (just to name a few)—believed it was time for a change in the local party structure. Joe Robbie did not represent our generation. We organized our own slate of eighty candidates to run for the executive committee. We called it Campaign 74. Our slate won and we elected Mike Abrams chair of the local party. We then took our “machine” statewide, electing Alfredo Duran, a member of the Spanish Speaking Democratic Caucus, chair of the Florida Democratic Party. Then we helped elect Jimmy Carter president of the United States.
In January 1975, I attended a college Young Democrats convention in Atlanta. Carter had just announced his candidacy, and was considered a long shot. Jimmy Who? At the gala dinner, the speakers were Andrew Young, Julian Bond, Maynard Jackson, … and Jimmy Carter. The first three wowed the group. The Watergate scandal (which
