It takes a real man to instill in his daughter, confidence, self-awareness, inner strength, and an empowered identity, from a young age.
 
My husband Christopher is that man to our daughter Sofia. She is a student-athlete that found basketball to be her favorite outlet. She plays competitive AAU basketball. My father, an immigrant to this country, is a now retired successful surgeon, and a strong yet, vulnerable man, who was that man to me when I was growing up, treating me the same as my brother, seeing me as his child above all else, regardless of being “a girl.” If you are a woman also blessed with a father who was man enough to raise a strong woman--a woman who knows who she is, what she stands for, and is unwavering in that knowledge--consider yourself blessed. If you are one of those men-- thank you and God Bless you.
 
Kobe Bryant, by all accounts, was that man to his daughters (Natalia Diamante Bryant, Gianna Maria-Onore Bryant, Bianka Bella Bryant, and Capri Kobe Bryant). As we all learned this week of his and Gianna's fatal accident aboard a helicopter with a group of others that included, fathers, husbands, mothers, wives, and daughters, make no mistake, as much as this was a “sports tragedy,” it was more a family tragedy, as several families, in one horrific moment, were irrevocably broken forever.
 
Up until that tragic moment though, in Kobe and Gianna “Gigi” Bryant, there was a beautiful, resilient, father-daughter relationship that can continue to serve as an inspiration for us all, man or woman. I am blessed to see such a relationship play out in front of my eyes every day, a father daughter relationship that I would like to think shares similarities to the one Kobe and Gigi shared.
 
In the eighth grade, while playing in a basketball game in Oregon, Sofia wasn't hitting any of her shots or hustling, she was just flat on both ends of the court. Christopher, one of her coaches at that time, called her over, told her to stop, breathe, have a sip of water, and then go back and to just “play.”  She did just that. She played her heart out and had an incredible game, catching the eyes of others.  She later told me, “what dad was trying to tell me was that sometimes I just need to slow down, relax and not let my mind play tricks on me.”
 
The outward simplicity of that advice is a reflection of the strong bond that Christopher and Sofia share, where in one glance, one firm look, one brutally honest statement--she gets what he is saying.
 
Sofia also treasures other constant pieces of basketball and life advice from her father, including “The face you put on the court is the face people will judge you for, for the rest of your life,” “Basketball is like life--you can’t be the last one to run back because it gives the impression that you don’t care,” and “When you’re not hitting your shots, there is always somewhere else where you can contribute because you are always counted on and needed.”
 
I look on with a mother’s pride as my husband and daughter spend time together.  They have a beautiful friendship and share so much in common.  I must admit at first I was jealous. But I see how spending time with Christopher, learning from her father, cultivates that strong, self-aware, incredibly confident identity in Sofia. Others can see it too.
 
Every adult that comes into contact with Sofia, comments about how grounded and self-aware she is, and how refreshing it is to see that level of maturity in someone her age of 16. Sofia knows exactly who she is and what she wants. Perhaps the maturity, wisdom, and certainty that people see in her eyes, come from a father who demands the same level of effort and excellence from her, that he demands from himself and others around him.
 
Kobe’s daughter also knew what she wanted, to play basketball and one day in the WNBA. With a father’s pride, Kobe nurtured her goal and drive to get there, unabashedly. That little girl’s love of basketball seemed to reignite his own passion for the sport that made him a champion. As a result, in this new and ultimately final chapter of his life, he became a champion for strong girls and the strong women they will become.
 
We so often celebrate mother-daughter relationships and father-son ones. Perhaps the silver lining that came from this terrible tragedy is the reminder to celebrate the unique father-daughter relationships.
 
If you want us to be strong women who know who we are, and aren’t afraid to stand up for what we believe in, to be leaders in the workforce, and the world-- fathers, please stop what you’re doing and spend time (quality time) with your daughters. The investment you make in your daughter now could be a part of her defining personality and future identity. The strength and mental toughness you instill in her today might end up being the mountain she stands upon to face self-doubt, bullying, or other life challenges she may face in the future. Your unwavering belief in your daughter just might be what gives her the courage to go forward when that seems like the hardest thing in the world to do. And, I speak from experience when I say, she will never ever forget where those things came from!
 
You may never be a superstar legend in the world’s eyes--but you can be one in your daughter’s eyes.

As originally heard on Judge Cristina Live at 9 on KABC Radio; 3/25/15

I’m calling my opening statement today “The A Word.” And it’s not the A-word that you might be thinking of either. Nope. Apparently, the newest offensive word is – America. That’s right – the country we live in – America - is a bad word.
 
In Lexington Massachusetts – a town where the FIRST shot of the American Revolutionary War was fired – the shot heard ‘round the world… at Lexington High School – the theme of an upcoming dance, was just changed from American Pride – to National pride. School officials said that they – and I quote – “wanted the dance to be more inclusive so students could represent their different nationalities.”
 
Are we becoming so inclusive that we're excluding our own national history? Why is America offensive? Is THIS what we want to teach our kids to think about America? Especially the next generation? And what about immigrants who are some of the most patriotic, America loving people out there? They don't seem to be offended by America. In fact it seems that most of them will move mountains just to become a citizen here. Why don’t those of us who are already here, feel the same way?
 
This also makes me think back to some other stories we’ve talked about here on Judge Cristina Live. There was the New Mexico high school that chose communism as the theme for their dance. And the students seemed absolutely confused as to why that caused controversy. And then there was the story of the UC Irvine students who voted to ban the American flag on campus – because they called it as symbol of hate, violence, and intolerance.
 
Okay – I understand that our country is not perfect. Our history is not spotless. There is racism, and violence, and war, and ignorance. But I would challenge you to show me a country that IS perfect. Show me a nation WITH a spotless record! I doubt you’ll find one, and you know why? Because countries are nothing but a collection of people. These flawed works in progress called human beings. Is the collection of people called America SO bad – and SO flawed – and SO destructive – that we need to be embarrassed by our own country? We need to hide our flag in shame, pretend our history never happened, and turn a blind eye to all the GREAT things about America? So many men and women have died – and are continuing to die – for our country. Are we saying to them: Thanks but no thanks; you didn’t have to do that. This country isn’t worth dying for.
 
I hope not because personally, I see a lot more good than bad in our country and in the American people. Sorry if I’m sounding like a patriotic Pollyanna, but I think of how my parents gave up everything to become citizens and succeed in this country. I think of the love of America that they instilled in my brother and sister and I at a young age. They taught us how to hold onto our culture identity as children of Colombian parents and yes – I am a proud Latina. But I am also a proud American. Does it really have to be one or the other? Because in these news stories that I’m talking about, that seems to be the case. It seems to be an attitude of – well if we’re going to be inclusive toward immigrants and people of other cultures, we need to exclude America. We need to turn our back on the flag, and our history and everything that America stands for. I disagree.
 
I applaud the students at Lexington High School who have spoken up about this. The ones quoted in this article are speaking out on behalf of common sense. One student said he “felt the decision was ridiculous and based on hypersensitivity to being politically correct.” Another said “People consider America to be a melting pot so the fact that it was even considered offensive is what people are a little surprised about.”
 
What a smart observation. Yes – what happened to the melting pot? Have we lost our way as a nation that stands solid in its history and values? Do we feel like in order to be a good hostess to other cultures, we need to completely abandon our nationality as America?
 
You tell me – is “America” – the new “A” word? Should we be SO embarrassed by the missteps of our country that we should ignore our own nation’s history?

As originally heard on Judge Cristina Live at 9 on KABC Radio

For today’s throwback Thursday opening statement, I’m taking you back in time to the 1970’s… a tumultuous time in America, when domestic groups in America existed, that wanted to overthrow the U.S. government, mainly because of our involvement in Vietnam. One of those groups was called the SLA – the Symbionese Liberation Army.
 
On April 15, 1974 a young woman, who happened to be the heiress to publishing mogul Randolph Hearst, was caught on bank surveillance cameras, wielding an automatic weapon as she robbed a San Francisco bank branch. The woman – of course – was Patty Hearst. But during the robbery, she introduced herself as Tania. You see, according to Hearst’s later testimony, she had been previously kidnapped from her Berkeley California apartment, beaten, lost consciousness, and in the months afterward, she claims to have been held hostage, threatened, and then brainwashed by the SLA to join their cause. She said she had no choice. Other than her testimony – and later on – various psychological and physical ailments she suffered – there was no evidence to back up her account of what happened.
 
In fact, after her eventual arrest the United States Attorney General William Saxbe called her a “common criminal” rather than a reluctant participant in the bank robbery, as she had claimed in her statements to police. But then the FBI countered back that some SLA members were photographed pointing guns at Hearst during the robbery. A grand jury indicted her for the robbery in June 1974 and she was later convicted of bank robbery and using a firearm in a felony. Her sentence ended up being 7 years in prison with the judge commenting, “rebellious young people who, for whatever reason become revolutionaries, and voluntarily commit criminal acts will be punished.”
 
Who was right and who was lying? Well, one of the landmark things about the Patty Hearst trial, is that this was the first time in US history, where surveillance camera footage played a prominent role in the trial. In fact, the footage was shown every night on the 6 o’clock news. And remember that back then, unlike today where there are hundreds of channels, the entire country had their choice to only 3 channels to watch – NBC, ABC, or CBS. This is very different from the highly publicized trials today – like of the Batman killer or the Boston Marathon bomber trial – where every minute and every word is captured on 24/7 cable news media. You may recall in my first Throwback Thursday rant a few weeks ago, that it was the OJ Simpson murder trial that set that precedent. It’s amazing when we think of how much has changed in the way we follow trials, isn’t it? Now we can watch You Tube videos of surveillance footage or even using apps and watching webcams from our phone. We don’t have to worry about missing a single moment of a single high profile trial, courtesy of cable news.
 
So yes, think back to 1974, when all of America was glued to one of only 3 TV stations, watching surveillance footage of this one time heiress – this socialite – wielding an automatic weapon and robbing a bank. Can you imagine? And just like with the Attorney General and the FBI – opinions were divided. Many Americans thought – you know what – yes she probably did fake her own kidnapping. Here she was a college student living with her boyfriend in Berkeley California – which let’s face it, was a hotbed for social activism at the time… and maybe she wanted to milk her parents out of some money? And by the way, if this was the plan, it ended up backfiring. The SLA ended up demanding that the Hearst family distribute $70 worth of food to every needy Californian, in exchange for their daughter’s freedom. Well that would have been a $400 million operation. But Hearst’s father did do, however, was take out a loan and arrange for $2 million worth of food to be immediately distributed to the poor in the Bay Area. Well – you can imagine what happened right? The operation was so rushed and out of control, that the whole thing descended into chaos and the SLA still refused to release Patty Hearst.
 
But back to my main question: Was this simply a case of a young woman who made a mistake, it went horribly wrong, so she had to come up with an excuse to hide behind? When I think of the effects of the Patty Hearst case I also think of the term “stockholm syndrome” – where kidnapping victims supposedly become sympathetic toward their captors. Was it the Hearst trial that helped put that term into our modern lexicon? And – is “stockholm syndrome” just a fancy psychiatric way of saying – “not my fault”? Is it a way of not taking responsibility for your actions?
 
And now, we face a new threat, this time from overseas, with groups like ISIS and potentially other overseas enemies. We can’t deny that we vulnerable – can we? Not in light of the recent story about the shooting at the controversial art competition in Texas. There are also reports that the bad guys are here to try and recruit and brainwash American citizens – just like what Patty Hearst claimed happenedo to her.
 
So… could this happen again? And how would 24/7 media, technology, people with smart phones always ready to videotape the evidence, social media, social activism, and the court of public opinion – play into it? If this happened tomorrow – would you believe the supposed victim? Would you believe them if they said they were forced into committing crimes – potentially crimes against their own country?
 
As for Patty Hearst, ultimate her sentence was commuted by Carter and later she received a full pardon from President Clinton. She went on to write books, became active in various charities and even acted in popular independent feature films. The question is: Was the story of Patty Hearst an act? And can this happen again? 

Excerpt from Living by Los Dichos: Advice from a Mother to a Daughter by Cristina Perez (Atria Books; 2006)

​On Friendships
  
“La amistad sincera es un alma repartida en dos cuerpos”
(“True friendship is one soul shared by two bodies”)
* * *

“Hey Pee Wee!”  When my father-in-law, Ray Gonzalez, was sick and dying of cancer, his friends “The Dukes” were right at his side, calling out their friend’s familiar childhood nickname since the group formed when they were thirteen years old, hanging out on the streets of New York City.  And when my husband’s beloved father finally passed away, it was the Dukes who carried his coffin at the funeral and electrified the air with their mere presence, their sadness.  From the Irish Duke to the Dominican Duke to the Puerto Rican Duke, Ray was their leader, helping to maintain the thread that held the close knit group together for over fifty years.  And when he died, a little piece of each of them died with him.

Ray was born in one of the poorest neighborhoods in New York City.  His parents were born in Puerto Rico and moved to the United States in the 1930s.  Despite his surroundings he excelled in school.  In fact, he was accepted into the best private school in the city.  However, due to financial circumstances he could not afford to attend.  Rather, he attended a public high school.

While growing up he became affiliated with, for lack of a better term, a hodgepodge of friends.  There was Ray, the Duke they named Pee Wee (since he was short), Whitey (since he was the only white guy), Flunky (since that was he was), Shadow (since he was the only black guy) and many more.  Also, you must realize that at the time, the city was somewhat segregated from city block to city block.  Certain ethnic groups lived on certain blocks and crossing the street onto another block could get one in serious trouble.  Despite this reality, Ray and his mishmash united to create a gang known as the “Dukes.”

The Dukes were, quite literally, like the gang in “West Side Story”.  Straight from the movie and of course with fewer dance numbers, they had the humor, the mixture of races and came from all different walks of life.  When they went out on the town it was like mixing both sides of the movie together.

Like any gang, they fought with other gangs over territory, girls and dominance.  Or just fought to fight.  Unlike in “West Side Story” where the brother of a gang (Puerto Ricans) leader falls in love with the sister of a rival gang's (Irish) leader, Ray befriended an Irishman, Sidney (Whitey).  They became the best of friends.  They were so close that eventually some forty years later he became my husband’s godfather (when the concept of being a godfather meant something).  The relationship Ray and Sidney had is one many envy, including me.  It was the ultimate relationship.  I have never seen a straight man have such respect, love and admiration for another man.  It was genuine.  It was awesome.  It was like they were blood related.  This example explains why my husband is so close to his friends.

As poor kids on the streets, as teenagers decked out at all the New York clubs, through the military service and jobs, various Dukes moving away across the nation, sticking by each other through wives, kids, and grandkids – their friendship was always the most important thing.  I have never met any group of men or women with such deep admiration and affection for each other.  They were each other’s bridge over problems, since many of them did not have the support of their families growing up.  They were a family unto themselves who supported and loved each other.  These are men who kissed each other on the mouth with machismo pride.  Even when most of the Dukes moved on, Ray was always the catalyst to get everyone back together.  They were once again re-united and remained as close as ever.  They would get together with each other every weekend and in some cases on a daily basis.  At my wedding they made my own father Dario an honorary Duke, and to this day they still call Christopher “Duke.”

Can you imagine such a friendship these days?  My advice to you is to go find your own “Dukes!”  Keep them close and never let them go!

From Judge Cristina Live at 9, 3/24/15


Really? Again?

One of the stories on yesterday’s docket was about alleged racism in the U.S. Army – where one day is set aside for soldiers to be as racist as they want toward each other. Before that, we talked about the University of Oklahoma fraternity that was kicked off campus when a video surfaced of the fraternity brothers doing a racist chant. And now in the news – 4 Florida cops got fired on Friday due to racist texts and just horrifying videos that showed a white Ku Klux Klan hood, and verbal assaults against minorities.

The common denominator in all of these stories is racism of course – and beyond that – they are examples of the absolute WORST of humanity. Judging someone by the color of their skin – their ethnicity – their gender – their sexual preference… and then taking it to the level of hate speech. Threats. Assaults. This is a disease. Looking at someone from the outside, and having a hateful thought show up inside your head.  

Is this the best we can do as human beings? Can’t we do better? Can’t we BE better? Or is this it? Is this the end of the road, as far as what we’re capable of? Or is it actually a disease? A mental disorder? And if so, will awareness and education actually cure it?

Personally, I’m an optimist. I like to think we can do better – and be better – as human beings. And even though I gave him some flack recently – maybe this is what Starbucks CEO Howard Schultz was trying to do, by having his employees write Race Together on coffee cups.

But maybe he missed the mark. Maybe the most EFFECTIVE conversations we will have with each other will not be forced – or contrived – or media driven. Maybe the conversations that will create the most change – will be the real ones that we have with each other. One on one. With the people we know. Maybe it will be the PERSONAL not PUBLIC conversations that really matter in the long run.

Speaking of those personal conversations… I received an email recently from a friend who is African American. She is an educated, lovely, well-spoken, successful woman who is also a very talented author writing a novel. And when I read her email – I will be honest with you – I got angry. I got really upset. Let me read it to you now.

"I feel like I want to share this. It's ironic that you've been talking about online bullying and Twitter trolls on your radio show lately, because guess what? I was attacked this week on Twitter. A black lady that I follow tweeted a very positive quote with the hash tag "You're gonna be amazing" This is a saying that her mother always told her. I re-tweeted her post and responded to her.  Some person I do not know saw our conversation and tweeted back to both of us "a n-word aint sh**" (except, they spelled both words out) I was hurt, but mostly angry. I thought about responding, but didn't for two reasons. First, sometimes silence is the best policy, especially when you are angry. Second, I thought about how that baseball player, Curt Schilling, found out who bullied his daughter. If he can find that out, it can be reversed and someone can find information about me too. So, I let it wash off my back. At first, I wanted it deleted off my notifications page, then I thought, no, I'm glad it's there because whenever I look at it, I feel more ambitious and confident because I know it's a lie."

Wow. That is powerful isn’t it?

Isn’t this what Starbucks was trying to do? Start a real conversation about racism? I think about how that ignorant, anonymous Twitter troll – hiding behind that cloak of anonymity – took one look at my friend and without knowing a thing about her, made a hate judgment about her – just because of the color of her skin.

And suddenly all the stories I’ve been talking about here on the show about racism, hatred, and bullying – in person and online – hit home for me. The fraternity brothers chanting racist rants about African Americans. Suddenly they are chanting at my friend. The Army soldiers choosing one day of the week to hate people of other races. They’re hating my friend – and not just one day of the week – every day. The cops in Florida texting hateful things about people of color to each other. They’re talking about my friend.

This is real for me now. And as optimistic as I am, I can’t get the thought out of my head – what if this IS a disease? Is social media making it worse? All the real time access we have to other people – and they have to us. Have we created something that was meant to be social, but actually gives us the power to destroy each other?

But then I think of what my friend said… how she has chosen to leave the tweet on her page. How it reminds her of how ambitious and confident she is. This reminds me that we are stronger than our enemies. If racism and hate are a disease, I believe they only poison a very small percentage of us. I believe that overall, we are good. And yes, I believe we can be better – or as my friend’s original hashtag said – You’re gonna be amazing! We all are.

What do you think? Is social media and technology in general, making racism and hatred worse? Or does it actually give us an open forum for having REAL conversations? The kind that Starbucks was trying to start by scribbling on coffee cups.

 

From "Living by Los Dichos: Advice from a Mother to a Daughter" by Cristina Perez.

“Lo que bien se aprende, nunca se pierde”
(“What is well learned is never lost”)

I believe strongly that for any culture to have any kind of longevity, its participants must practice an active curiosity in each stitch of thread that has created the culture and holds it together.  Both young and old should continuously learn, access, and live by their culture’s roots so that those roots can continue to flourish for future generations.  Every culture possesses its own unique way of passing this wisdom on from generation to generation. 

In the Latino culture, Dichos act as that intergenerational gateway, offering rules to live by for generation after generation.  They are invaluable proverbs and sayings.  In just a few words, each delivers a serious message, value or belief.  They are utilized to help make a point, and teach a life lesson.  Dichos have the power to convey a valuable human experience and validate life’s trials and tribulations.  Dichos serve as profound lessons to be learned from the life experiences of our forefathers, each incorporating the astuteness of past generations and serving as teaching tools for us to live by today and tomorrow. 

Dichos are a beautiful tradition of communication passed down within the Latino culture.  They allow elders to connect with and carry wisdom to new generations.  In learning, accessing and living by los dichos we continually breathe life into the inspiring, humorous and philosophical proverbs that have woven themselves throughout Latino culture for centuries.  Dichos have a profound impact on society because of the history they are rooted in, the emphasis they place on individual Latino cultures, and because they are blind to educational, economic and class systems.  Dichos are words translated into history.

There are thousands of dichos in existence today – some humorous, some serious, and some specific to certain countries.  Each has a particular meaning that is generally universal and crosses over all cultures.  Dichos are a genuine and unique form of expression, a way of exaggerating or pointing out an important aspect of life. 

Dichos provide messages of hope, direction and guidance just when we need them.  When for some reason or another a basic truth escapes us, dichos put us back on track in the right direction.  When we face challenges in life dichos can give the situations a sense of clarity and direction. 

Because of these reasons and many more, dichos are the day-to-day rules that I live by.  I am blessed to be part of a family that allowed me to live and travel to unique places. I have gained valuable life lessons through dichos from my family that provides direction in all facets of my life.

“De Tal Palo, Tal Astilla”
(“Of the stick comes the splinter”)

This dicho is also like the English sayings, “the apple does not fall far from the tree” or “like father like son.”  My parents migrated to the United States from Colombia in the 1960’s.  They came to this country with essentially nothing except each other and a dream of a better life for themselves and their children.  My father came from a large family of modest means, with thirteen brothers and sisters.  Actually, my grandmother, my father’s mother, was pregnant twenty-two times.  My mother also came from a large family of eleven brothers and sisters.  My family is a walking and talking billboard for the “big Latino family”.

Shortly after they were married, my parents decided to move the United States “temporarily,” as is frequently the intention of many immigrants.  Their plan was to work and save enough money to, hopefully one day, send my father to medical school and return to Colombia.  Forty plus years later our family is still here.

Mentoring is such a powerful gift to share with a young person who looks up to you and perhaps would one day like to follow in your footsteps.  You are selflessly giving of your time and knowledge – and sharing a piece of yourself to benefit another.

With commitment naturally comes challenge – a challenge to make the time and effort for the cause.  And all causes -- such as mentoring -- that you take time out of your schedule to contribute to, are great causes.  Some people do it because it’s a mandatory part of their job, but I’m more interested in watching people who have a complicated life and family, yet still have enough time to give of themselves.  I admire those people who aren’t afraid to put their titles and wealth aside just to give back to someone who needs it.  Those are the people who really matter in communities.  If I can’t feel what someone is doing, then it doesn’t move me.

There is a dicho I learned from my mom “El diablo sabe más por viejo que por Diablo”. When my mother tells me this dicho, she is really saying is that with age comes experience which brings about knowledge.  It’s nice to have somebody who can share their life experiences with you.  That’s why I rely so much on my parents. They are truly my mentors. 

My mom is the quintessential Latina and I have learned an endless number of things from her examples.  She has always managed to put her family first, working tirelessly to keep our home in order -- doing things like keeping fresh fruit, food and flowers on hand for unexpected visitors.  She is always taking on several different tasks at once and remains the backbone of our family. 

Women like my mother are typical Latinas and I am privileged to have her as my mentor.

As mentors, we have a lot of work to do and a continued presence to create via the next generations of young Latinas who are eager to make their marks on the entire culture.  We need to let our communities and the nation as a whole know who we are and what we stand for.  We must take the vision of our own past mentors and continue to make it a reality for Latinas everywhere.  It’s time to attain the more widespread respect, and our mentoring relationship with other Latinas is the launching pad to make that happen.  Now that our voice is greater than ever, in order to continue our success we need to turn the volume up!

Did you know that today’s Latina is part of the fastest growing ethnic group in the country?  BUT Latinas are not as easily defined, as they are labeled.  We are complex, and long to be understood.  Regardless of education, Latinas believe we can have it all - be a good wife and mother and have a career at the same time. 

Some people today call this “multi-tasking”.  But women, historically, have always been multi-taskers.  It has been the role of the woman to have the children, raise and care for them, cook, clean, and serve her husband when he gets home from work.  A woman is on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, expected to always comply with her duties, rain or shine, sickness or in health.  It is in our blood to be doing more than three things at once.  We were raised knowing we would have to raise the kids, cook and clean simultaneously – Mrs. Cleaver and Ms. CEO all in one.  I think there is a very fitting dicho that says, “La necesidad es madre del ingenio” (“Necessity is the mother of resourcefulness”).  We find a way to make things work.

My mom was and remains our family’s leader in every sense of the word.  We call her “Chiquita pero cumplidora.”  She taught me how to do the same thing by her example.  PAUSE 

NOW. . . I don’t mean to exclude fathers – especially my amazingly resilient father.  It’s just that I think women find it especially difficult TODAY to balance their roles as mother, wife and professional. 

As we all know, Latinas wear many hats, among them we are mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters and we are professionals, politicians, students, or just friends.  Inherent in all of these is the leadership role.  We assume a leadership role that is dedicated to serving others, whether it is to our family or our community. We serve as the window for the rest of the world to view our community.

As Latinas, we are naturally looked upon as role models for younger generations in our own culture and in others.  It is common for the public and especially the media to look to Latinas as leaders in the community, the workplace and the family – all at the same time! 

It is so important that we as role models pass these lessons and messages along to the next generation of Latinas. It will be impossible for them not to see the pride we have in our culture.  We need to give young Latinas all the tools to be self-confident so that they succeed and continue to embrace leadership roles in the community.

The community looks to us for advice as respected contributors for its success.  While we may not realize it - ALL Latinas are critical role models. We play a critical role in the family, organizing communities and advocating for its improvement. And let's face it - we influence public trends and policies. 

On my court television shows, I have the privilege of helping litigants work out the details of their lives.  Sometimes those details are small and the arguments are over dollars and cents.  But I don’t see my role as any less important in these situations as in any other role in my life – as a wife, mother, daughter or professional.  The decisions I make on the show hopefully bring balance back into the litigants’ lives, and in that way, the hat I wore on the show that day, made an impact.

I love the roles I have voluntarily undertaken in my life and work to be good in everything I do.

Loving what you do IS AN INSPIRATION to others AND it IS living the lifestyle of a Latina. 

We all know America is a nation of immigrants.  Throughout its history, this country has represented the opportunity for success for all people.  The strength of this country is founded in the unique cultural influences and traditions that immigrants bring to the United States and how they balance those traditions with their new life in America.

When I first ventured out into the world as a brand new attorney, my father gave me some valuable advice about my Latina roots. He said:  “You can’t be afraid of people telling you that you’re a minority because you’re not.  You have to understand that you are a majority, especially in your business.”

Together, let’s make it a priority to impress upon young Latinas – whether they are family members, friends, employees, young people in your community, or scholarship students like Juana – to take pride in their cultural identity and use it to their advantage in everything they do -- from school all the way to the workplace.

Whether as immigrants or Latinas born and bred in America, we are required to balance our cultural identity with the rest of who we are.  As Latinas, we are called upon to balance all these pieces of our life seamlessly, gracefully and with passion.   Some call this CROSSING OVER I just call it MY LIFE. 

I personally embrace this as a challenge, to see how many lives I can affect with all the different hats I wear.  We each have so much to offer – more than we think we do sometimes.  Once you realize that, it gets easier to see your talents and strengths as wonderful gifts at your disposal.  AND

Then and ONLY THEN you will start to see that all your responsibilities in life are really privileges – and also lessons that you can pass on to young people who want to someday follow in your footsteps.

I would hope that someday my daughter will say about me: “My mother is my mother but she was this incredible go-getter, fought and stood up for what she believed and worked extremely hard, but she was always my mother first.”  I want her to know that being true to yourself and being true to your work is the key to success.

SO. . . Each day I make sure I carefully heed to my mother’s attitude on life and wisdom and gladly take in every consejo.  So yes, I am tired when I get home from work and yes I get tired of juggling, but this is my role and I willingly accept it.  I am proud to be a devoted and supporting wife and mother and dedicated professional.  SO when people ask me - Cristina, how do you do it all?  MY  ANSWER is simple --- " tengo la sangre de una mujer Latina, tengo la sangre de mi madre." (I have the blood of a Latina woman; I have the blood of my mother).

From It's All About the Woman Who Wears It: 10 Laws for Being Smart, Successful, and Sexy Too by Cristina Perez

We’ve all been here, right? The results of a woman storing up anger can range from unleashing an emotional tsunami on your unsuspecting spouse to making headlines on the evening news.

It starts innocently enough. Someone does something to tick us off, but we let it slide and stay quiet. And then they do it again . . . and again . . . and again. We never say a word. We hope that at some point the person will miraculously gain the power to read our mind, interpret our glares, and analyze our facial expressions. But they do not, and our arsenal of anger grows bigger and stronger. Until finally—we snap!

By this point our anger has nothing whatsoever to do with what ticked us off in the first place. Everything about this person irritates us. Now they have no idea what they did wrong, and on top of that they think we are holding them responsible for all the ills of the world.

This happened to me after an especially stressful Saturday of working from home while juggling a million other responsibilities. I was up to my eyeballs in work, and my stress level quickly reached its boiling point. All day, it felt to me as if I were having everything dumped onto my plate and my husband was not doing anything. Every time I asked him to do something, I would get a curt, “Fine,” or, “Whatever.” Whether that was the reality of the situation or not, that was what I was feeling. Not so ironically, Christopher’s perception of his day was not much different.

We were on each other’s nerves from the moment we woke up that morning. Married couples have a way of doing this to each other sometimes, merely from being around each other more than we are around anyone else. It is human nature to get on one another’s nerves. And then, all of a sudden you see a big bull’s eye on your partner’s forehead and decide it is an ideal place to dump all your everyday pressures and stresses, just because he happens to be standing there. This may be a survival mechanism and ultimately your partner may understand and forgive you because he feels the same way. But in the meantime, it can get pretty messy and, in our case, become sheer entertainment for everyone around.

By that evening, when Christopher and I were out to dinner with our friends, the situation was beyond boiling. Most of our friends, especially our close ones, are used to watching Christopher and me “cross-examine” each other during harmless little public tiffs. This is one of our trademarks as a married couple, and sometimes I think we might make great subjects for a reality show. Our bickering escalated quickly to the point where our friends were laughing. They could clearly relate, and the more we argued, the harder they laughed. By the time Christopher decided to turn his request for a drink refill into a federal case with the maître d’, our friends were just about rolling on the floor. This was comedy to them because, as a fellow married couple who had obviously gone a few rounds using each other for “shooting practice,” they understood.

You would think the drink refills would have helped both of us, but they barely took the edge off. That night I was exhibiting a typical female downfall by discarding reason and logic in favor of stubbornly hanging in there until I was somehow proven to be right. He was being typical, stubborn, macho-man, “Nuyorican” Christopher and refusing to give an inch. We bickered all the way home. When we got home, I told Christopher to sleep in the guest room and leave me alone. I couldn’t figure out how this started, but at the same time I was too frustrated to figure out how to deal with him and I just wanted to go to bed alone.

Now, I have often heard the age-old marital advice “Don’t go to bed angry.” I have always tried to abide by that rule as much as possible. But that night, when I could not even think straight because I was so mad, I found a caveat to that old marriage rule. I learned that once in a while you should go to bed angry, and here’s why: When you go to bed mad there is no way you will sleep well that night—no possible way. Because you obviously love your husband, no matter how much he has angered you. There is that guilt along with the constant reel of the events of the day playing back in your mind, over and over. You are tossing and turning while asking yourself, What was worth this tortured night of not sleeping?

The situational payoff comes when you wake up the next day from an awful night of sleep. You still have residual feelings from the night before—guilt, anger, upset, etc.—and it may take a moment to remember why you are feeling this way. And then you remember. Except now, with the night separating then from now, you have gained some perspective. You see that what you thought was an all-consuming, overwhelming situation the night before is really no big deal now in the light of day.

When I woke up after that night, I felt like whatever happened was now over and behind us. I could barely remember what I was upset about. How important could it have been, that a little nighttime amnesia wiped my memory clean?

I was over it, but my husband did not yet know it. He was still in a foxhole fighting the war after the peace treaty had been signed. As I walked into the kitchen, he was huffing and puffing and stomping around, clearly without having experienced the benefits of overnight amnesia. I cheerfully offered to make him coffee. This “sudden” turn of events (in his mind) completely stumped him. He was ready for a battle and instead all he got was a cup o’ joe. He was left wondering where his sparring partner had disappeared to overnight. Finally, Christopher realized that the battle was over, crawled out of his foxhole, and gave himself permission to move on.

The moral of this story is that there are many things that should be bottled up, and anger is definitely not one of them. We may think that we are being wise and tolerant, and avoiding confrontation, but somewhere inside, there is a piece of ourselves that is not ready to let go of the issue. We need to let people know if they have done something to offend or anger us. Believe me, they would rather know about it when it happens than wait for the big bang. Storing up anger does more to worsen the problem than to solve it. When we bottle up our anger now, someone always pays later.

Originally delivered by Judge Cristina Perez at the United States Department of the Treasury, September 2011

“Many Backgrounds, Many Stories…One American Spirit” Speech

THE POWER OF MY AMERICAN DREAM

It is a great honor and privilege for me to be here with you today, as we celebrate National Hispanic Heritage Month. The federal government celebrates this month, in the words of our president, to “showcase the impact Hispanics have had on our national life.” President Obama goes on to, and I quote, “to pay tribute to the generations of Hispanic Americans who have positively influenced and enriched our nation and society.”

National Hispanic Heritage Month highlights how as Hispanic Americans, we have contributed to America while simultaneously celebrating our unique backgrounds, heritage and cultures.

This is indeed a reason to celebrate because America is known as the greatest country in the world precisely due to our diversity. Ethnicity is a jewel of that diversity. We live in a time where we cannot deny it, we cannot ignore it - we must embrace and celebrate where we come from and how we come together as one American spirit.

It has taken us a long time to realize that coming together as one spirit begins with who we are as individuals, a collection of unique identities that come together and make up one, united Hispanic community.

I am one member of this large, growing, diverse, wonderful community. And my identity within that community begins with my name. My name is Cristina Perez not Per-ez. When people ask me, that’s what I tell them. I do not have an “American” identity Christina – C-h-r-i-s-t-i-n-a – Per-ez and then a separate Latina version that sounds, looks, and acts differently. You see, I grew up with one foot in each culture so I wouldn’t know how to separate them if I tried! It’s like café con leche – a 50/50 mixture where you don’t know where the coffee ends and the milk begins. I don’t know where I end and begin but I am complete. This is the only way I know how to view my cultural identity. My Latina culture and being an American are one in the same. For example, when I became the first television judge to transition from Hispanic television to American television, that transition came naturally to me because this is how I have lived my entire life. My Latino heritage and American culture are not an either-or proposition – I am Latina, I am American, I am one Cristina with one collective identity that I wear proudly every day. Together it weaves together all the threads of who I am as a product of an immigrant family, Latina, a lawyer, an author, a wife, a mother and a proud American.

Although I was born here, I, like many other Hispanic Americans, come from immigrant parents. If you think about it, every American’s unique story dates back to an immigrant – whether that means going back hundreds of years, several decades or looking to your own parents.

These stories define us as a great country – a melting pot of diversity and cultural opportunity. Each story comes from a different time and place, each with its own set of challenges.

My personal story began with one particular immigrant.  Referring to America as, “the land of possibility and potential,” he and his wife arrived from Colombia to the Bronx New York in 1963 to pursue his dream of becoming a surgeon and providing a better life for his family.  While pursuing this dream, the man withstood unspeakable discrimination and confronted obstacles, simply because he was an immigrant. While he was an educated man, he did not speak perfect English.  As a result, his worth as a human being and a professional was devalued. Rather, he was judged on looks alone and was forced to take any type of employment that would support him and his family - from janitor to factory worker. But he never complained. You see, despite these hard times – he knew that this incredible country would eventually open doors for him and his family.  He was right.  After 20 years of perseverance, hard work and overcoming many challenges, this man finally accomplished his goal.  He became a top surgeon, earning top honors and recognition in the process.

This is the story of one American immigrant and there are millions more similar stories that we all share. But for me, this story is the one that has driven me throughout my life to succeed because this is the story of my father.  His strength and passion resonate with me in everything I do. This is what he has left me as his legacy, his American Dream. 

I appreciate the opportunities this country has given to me and my family.  Though hard work and dedication, my mother and father made a life for our family -- my sister, brother, and I – and with my father’s help, support and example, nine of his brothers and sisters eventually emigrated to the U.S. from Colombia.  Our lives were full of challenges, but our family always was full of love and I relied on them and their example.  My parents’ sacrifice allowed us the freedom to excel in the U.S., and more importantly, they opened doors that have given me access to better educational opportunities and a better way of life.

And even if this particular story was not about my own family ----- I think I would still find a familiar theme in it – the ability to take pride in and find strength in where we come from.

But where do we come from? There are many diverse backgrounds that make up the landscape of America. So many countries have celebrated their independence. So many different Hispanic and Latin American cultures have converged here in America as a result. This may make us one Hispanic community but our individual backgrounds create a picture that is far from paint by number. There is no right way to color in the lines of who we are as a community. Our diversity of personal stories, backgrounds, ancestries, ethnicities and cultural identities make it impossible. This uniqueness is often mistaken for separateness and there are those who ask: So what unites us? What is our place in the United States of America? The answer is the same for each American, whether a product of recent or long-time immigrants – our love for these United States. We love our country and our country loves us right back. She embraces us across all of our cultures. The Statue of Liberty’s script cannot be rewritten – it is set in stone and has been for hundreds of years. She is designed to welcome each and every one of us – every story, every background, and with every passing generation. It is who Lady Liberty is to accept us each the way we are.

America’s willingness to welcome and recognize each of her citizens and all their contributions helps me to appreciate why we are celebrating this month. I understand why President Obama and the federal government pay tribute to our cultures and contributions. The federal government defines the celebration of National Hispanic Heritage Month as the period from September 15th to October 15th. During this time, we celebrate the histories, cultures and contributions of American citizens whose ancestors came from Spain, Mexico, the Caribbean and Central and South America. But did you know it started as just a weeklong celebration? 

President Lyndon Johnson first approved Hispanic Heritage Week and President Reagan later expanded the celebration to a full month.

I respect that our presidents and government continue to recognize the contributions of Hispanic culture in the United States. I think it’s wonderful that it was expanded from one week to one month. And now -- I propose to you that it be expanded into to a yearlong celebration. No, I am not asking President Obama to sign a declaration for ‘National Hispanic Heritage Year.’ Instead, I am asking each one of you as individuals – Why do YOU celebrate it? And I challenge you to decide whether or not that celebration is limited to just one month of the year? Are we only proud of our heritage during this one-month? Because we live it every day -- we breathe it every day -- it’s who we are every day -- so therefore we should be proud of it every day!

When it comes to celebrating your heritage there must be a singular, powerful purpose behind it and that is what will make it a daily event. Heritage is a collection of customs and traditions that are handed down from generation to generation-through families.

These customs and traditions are personal to each family and so must be your motivation to continuously celebrate them. Otherwise, what is the point in going through the motions for just one month of every year?

If you are of a certain religion or faith, do you only find purpose in that religion on religious holidays, or do you carry that personal meaning over into your daily life? This is how we must approach our Hispanic heritage – as a daily celebration. Our heritage, like faith, is a collection of rock solid assets. It is evidence of something greater than ourselves that we cannot touch but must believe in.

This IS a reason to celebrate!!! Yet for some reason we are constantly trying to define who we are and where we came from instead. We’re trying to justify a celebration rather than just embracing it with our hearts. We feel like in order for our identity in this country to be real, we must scream it and force it on the world. We strenuously defend our stories and “right” to be here. We see our cultural identity as something that needs to be meticulously measured and defined down to the smallest detail. We fear that if one detail is left out, it lessens who we are as Americans. We explain and explain, hoping that eventually our right to remain diverse in a land founded on diversity will be neatly justified.

Don’t you think it’s time to stop defining and justifying who we are and just embrace it?

Because the moment you stop trying to define it, you will discover it. You will realize that your cultural identity comes from personal empowerment, not force. Let it come naturally and authentically. Approach the world with the message – once you meet me you will know who I am. Try and identify me as much as you’d like until I open my mouth – because at that point I will show you who I am. My identity will become instantly clear.

For instance… in my life, as a Latina woman who works in law, a profession which at one time was associated mostly with Caucasian men, it would be easy to define my life and my career from the perspective of being a minority woman – an underrepresented statistic on an often intimidating, extremely competitive and very large playing field dominated by colleagues who don’t look anything like me. Yes, that would have been the easy way out. But that is not the way I choose to approach my career or my life.

No matter what kind of personal or professional obstacles I have faced, I have always used my cultural identity and my gender for my benefit. Once I was accepted for who I was without qualification, I was able to balance who I am as a Latina, woman, professional, bicultural American, wife and mother.

The biggest strength and lesson I have learned through balancing my own definition of “it all” -- is to approach every hat I wear in life and every piece of who I am, from the perspective of privilege.

If this is how we all approach our lives, then as a community our message will be – once you meet us you will know who we are, where we come from and our place within this great nation. It is our responsibility as a community to find our own identities within this culture and make it a part of the American backdrop.

To do this, we must embrace the assets we inherited and acquired through the generations before us. We inherited the sacrifice, the high moral standards and commitment to make life better for our children and ourselves. We MUST honor that tradition because this is what our parents and ancestors wanted for us and it is what we should want for our children. We cannot let it die. We cannot lose it. We must make sure our legacy continues. And it starts with passing this message on to our children; telling them the stories of our ancestors with pride and honesty, teaching what is behind them and moving forward. We must make sure our future generations feel as proud as we are of our ancestors. We must convey to them that the heritage of who they are comes from the strength of their cultural identity.

Remember that with everything you do, everything you say and every attitude you project about yourself and your culture, you are setting the standard for future generations of individuals from your culture. You can never forget this responsibility.  Together we can, through our awareness, education, and actions, set a course for a future reality where all cultures really are treated as equals. 

I often preach that our children need only a few major role models – super heroes in real life. We must BE those super heroes, preserving and fighting for being Americans with a long history and legacy of people just like us, only with different stories and backgrounds. That is what makes our country the best place to live in the world – a “super power” as they call us.  As a collective group, we have the ability to hold onto what makes us great and never forget how we got here.

Every generation has its own set of leaders who strive to break down barriers and set the pace for the next generation. Sometimes it’s the well-known public figure who proudly stands up and says, “I am proud of who I am” and then opens doors as fast they can for others to walk through. Sadly, I read that young people today are most frustrated by the lack of positive role models for young Hispanics. Let’s change this now! We must be empowered by this responsibility!

We MUST BE EMPOWERED TO  Be the super hero in real life for your children! The stories you share with your children about where they come from will give them hope, inspiration and most importantly, pride.

These stories that come from you, away from the spotlight, behind the closed doors of your home, will teach your kids how important it is to be American while embracing their culture at the same time. The message to our children must be that embracing both parts of your identity is what makes us so unique. The moment you start being embarrassed by who you are and where you come from is the beginning of the deterioration of your cultural identity and who you are. The more we allow the younger generation to embrace who they truly are, the stronger we will be as independent cultural communities and the national community at large. There’s room for everyone here, and the next generations must believe that!

We need to be the leaders to take away from our children this feeling that they must walk on eggshells when it comes to who they are and where they came from. This feeling like they need to segregate into groups because there’s not enough room in the national culture for who they are as Americans and the heritage they celebrate every day.

Protecting them means giving them the liberty to be free to be themselves without alienating anybody, the gift of living and celebrating who they are, without any chains, restrictions, or justifications. They no longer have to define who they are; we’ve done that already. They just have to live as Americans with their heritage and celebrate their version of the American dream every day.

I once asked my father what he felt to be the “American Dream,” he replied: “Simple - the opportunity to work, raise and provide for my family, and my children, obtaining the best education possible.”  He added, “What you can do in this country, you cannot do anywhere else in the world.” This is truly makes us a super power in the world.

But as powerful as we are, America is still a young country; others have so much history. What will define us and make us different? What will give us the history and texture that other super powers have?

The power of the American dream will. This power does not lie solely in money and the ability to succeed financially the United States either.  The power of the American Dream is the power we have to welcome many backgrounds, many stories and blend them together into one American Spirit. This will be America’s legacy with each one of us contributing.

Hispanic Heritage month is just one opportunity to harness those contributions and collectively redefine our nation’s heritage to include many new American dreams, each defined by its own dreamer.

What is the power of your American dream?

Mine is the power of the legacy I will leave for my daughter. It is a legacy of opportunity, a legacy of faith, a legacy of identity, a legacy of commitment, a legacy of having your voice heard, and a legacy of believing in myself, my future and the futures of my children.

Now is the time to ask yourself, what is the power of my American dream?

Thank you!

From my book: It's All About the Woman Who Wears It: 10 Laws for Being Smart, Successful, and Sexy Too

My first semester of law school was hard. All of law school was a challenge, but I had a particularly difficult time in the first semester. My grades were not reflecting my knowledge and passion for the law. I needed to find out how to sync everything up. In search of professional guidance, I met with one of the deans at my school. Trusting that she had the knowledge and resources to get me back on track and help me move forward toward my dream of becoming a lawyer, I shared all my concerns, my fears, and my questions with her. I finished my story and waited for the pearls of wisdom to start flowing from across the desk.

Without even looking at my file or asking me a single question, she suggested that perhaps law school was not for me at all. The details of this life-changing event are still so vivid in my memory almost twenty years later. I remember this woman’s demeanor, the way she spoke, and how she delivered her verdict.

I felt like the rug had been ripped out from under me, and it was difficult to even catch my breath. After that, I did what so many other women do in situations like this: I took her words completely to heart and soon convinced myself that this woman must be right and maybe I should think of quitting law school. But then the “I” kicked in and, like lava out of a volcano, I erupted. I was furious! I thought, How dare she tell me what I am or am not capable of? Who is she to make these assumptions about me?

I often wonder and even try to guess why she did it and why she handled the situation the way she did. I wonder why she said these things to me without even bothering to open my file. From her point of view, as a professional in a position of authority, she may have thought she was carrying out her responsibility and simply conveying information and informing me of the risks inherent in law school. Or perhaps at one point in her life another woman treated her this way and she was paying the “favor” forward. I guess I will never know.

But what I learned was that women in positions of power should avoid handling similar situations like this. There is the potential of changing the course of someone’s life in the course of one careless conversation. They can still balance their professional responsibilities with their personal opinions. But in their position, they need to be reminded of their power to inspire a young person closer to their dreams or shoot them down before they can even get started.

This nearly happened to me. Here was this woman simply giving me her quick, offhand opinion about my situation, without really even knowing anything about me, and in my mind I made her words the gospel. I turned her opinion, probably one of hundreds that she gave every semester, into absolute, indisputable fact. At that point in my life I was very easily influenced by what others thought of me because I thought it was right to care. What an idiot I was! But this anger I experienced reawakened me. It made me snap out of my feelings of insecurity, and allowed me to refocus on my goals and tap into my inner strength that has never left me since.

I eventually realized that without the struggle, like the one I was experiencing in law school, what is something really worth in life? As a result of that woman challenging me, I accessed the strongest parts of myself and let my passion for the law help me soar higher than ever. I think this is when I really started to tune in to the gift of being a woman. This was the beginning of my metamorphosis.

I can’t help but wonder how that dean felt when I addressed the entire school at graduation as student body president.