Democrats should build on Reid’s Hispanic outreach

In light of Senate Minority Leader Harry Reid’s (D-Nev.) retirement after a long and successful Senate career, some may wonder how a rural Nevadan with a dry sense of humor turned Latinos in his state into a solid group of supporters.

The answer was crystallized after my long walk to his office in December 2010. I was about to tell him that as a teen, I had been undocumented. I braced for an earful at best; at worst, I worried for my career.

It was a lame-duck session and Reid was bringing the DREAM Act for a second vote that year while anti-immigrant senators like Jeff Sessions (R-Ala.) riled the extreme right. Marco Rubio (R-Fla.), recently elected to the Senate, called the bill “amnesty.”

In that atmosphere, the fact that one of Reid’s spokespeople had been undocumented was a possibly unwelcome distraction. Even many Democrats — hard as it might be to believe today, when Dreamers speak at conventions — viewed immigration as a “third rail.”

That chapter of my life wasn’t exactly secret, though. I had written about it in the Miami Herald, before I worked in the Senate. I wrote about my grandfather dying in Colombia as I sobbed in my Hialeah, Florida bedroom, knowing we were undocumented and too broke to say goodbye. I wrote about being told I couldn’t get scholarships and go to college while my friends left to school.

{mosads}But I had never told Reid.

Slouched in his armchair by his fireplace, he asked what I needed to tell him.

“Sir, when I was younger, before I worked for you, I was undocumented. I thought you should hear it from me and not from someone else.”

“But you’re a citizen now, right?” he said looking up at me.

I said yes.

“OK,” he replied, adding all he cared about was that I did good work for him.

I explained my worries about distractions and staying on message. He dismissed them; conversation over. A few months later, Reid promoted me to deputy communications director and senior adviser.

Later in 2013, during his floor speech about the immigration bill about to clear the Senate, Reid’s voice cracked as he recounted the story of his immigrant father-in-law. When Serena Hoy, his chief counsel; Angela Arboleda, his Hispanic and Asian affairs adviser; and I went to thank him after passage, he hugged us. His eyes were moist.

The son of a hard rock miner had developed an emotional connection with the struggles of the immigrant community. That community had also developed an emotional connection with him.

In 2010, 90 percent of Nevada Hispanic voters cast a ballot for Reid, even as all major polls said he’d lose, in a race that foreshadowed 2016’s anti-immigrant tone. Even internal campaign polls showed Reid losing white independents and not getting enough Hispanics if he brought the DREAM Act for a vote.

He moved forward, regardless, in September. Republicans pounced with commercials featuring tattooed men jumping over a border fence, tagging Reid as “the best friend illegal immigrants ever had.” Nevada’s Hispanic community pounced back at the polls. They saw a man who risked his political skin for them.

The rest is history.

But Reid’s retirement worries me. Immigrants are losing their best ally in Congress — because of his conviction and the clout he consistently used on our behalf — as we enter the age of Trumpist xenophobia and the alt-right. Most Senate offices are thin on minority staffing and have disconnect with the Latino community.

Throughout his tenure as Democratic leader, Reid has defended immigrants publicly and often without press releases. He took the floor countless times without fanfare to block Sessions’ proposals to raise taxes on American children whose undocumented parents had come forward to pay taxes.

Reid encouraged the White House, at times forcibly, to protect Dreamers through Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA). He created Congress’s only staff diversity initiative. Over a decade ago, Reid assembled an extremely effective Hispanic media communications operation.

Was there calculus? Absolutely. But politicians do best electorally when they have empathy with their constituents. Reid’s outreach to minority communities started decades earlier and remained steady. He became pen pals with Dreamer Astrid Silva, and probably made more appearances in Spanish language Sunday shows than their English counterparts.

During Reid’s 2010 victory party, the crowd erupted into “Sí se puede!” chants as he took the stage. Today, Nevada is the one bright Democratic spot where his foresight gave Democrats victories up and down the ballot.

Senate Democrats should build on Reid’s legacy, whether it means talking to Latino media, having diverse staff or taking a stand even when polls say “don’t do it.”

Hispanic voters remember.

José Dante Parra is a Democratic strategist and CEO of ProsperoLatino. Before his current position, he was a senior adviser to Sen. Leader Harry Reid (R-Nev.). He led Reid’s Hispanic media efforts during his 2010 reelection in Nevada. Follow him on Twitter @josedanteparra.

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