Experiences of Chicana County judges in Texas politics: In their own words

In Texas local government the county judge is the most powerful elected position within all governmental units. The county judge at the local level is usually the highest paid public official with multifaceted powers and responsibilities: chief executive of the county government, judicial officer, budget officer, elections officer, civil defense director, personnel director, program administrator, and titular head of local government. Texas has 254 counties, and each has a county judge. The Texas Almanacs list of elected officials by county for 1998 indicates that of the 254 county judges, there were twenty-three white women county judges compared to only eight Chicana/o. There is only one Chicana county judge in Texas at this writing, Norma Villarreal Ramirez of Zapata County. There have only been three Chicanas elected to the position in Texas, and none of the three have been able to win re-election. Why have so few Chicanos and Chicanas been elected? What are the problems inherent in obtaining and holding the position? Selections from videotaped interviews with Chicana judges in Texas and the ethnographic discussion that follows may begin to answer these serious questions regarding Chicana leadership.

The general exclusion of Hispanics from politics is caused by socioeconomic factors. For example, economic status and educational attainment are very real barriers to political participation in the electoral arena for anyone. In 1993, more than one-third (34.3 percent) of Hispanic families with children under eighteen were living below poverty. In 1993, the Hispanic household median income dipped to $22,886, the lowest median income level for Hispanic households since 1975, then $22,793. Since 1989, the Hispanic median income values have declined an average of $665 annually. In addition to obstacles to Hispanic political representation generally, the National Council of La Raza reported in 1995 that the median income of Hispanic female year-round, full-time workers was $17,112.1 Thus, politics is not affordable to most lower- and middle-class Mexican American women. Factors that have historically obstructed Hispanic women's paths to public office-factors like age, family size and obligations, cultural bias, and marital status-have also continued.

Other related reasons account for the scarcity of Chicana/o county judges. The county judge position is elected county-wide in contrast to single-member district respresentation. Therefore, the county judge position, like other countywide positions, is more difficult to win than other unpaid, elected positions, such as seats on the school board, city council, and community college board. Voter interest in county positions is intense, and campaign costs associated with seeking these county-wide positions are among the highest in most of the rural counties in the state. Typically neither Chicanas nor Chicanos have the money or can raise the money necessary to mount an effective campaign that includes an organization that will get their voters to the polls. In predominantly Chicano-populated counties, mostly along the U.S.-Mexico border, Chicanos have won judgeships. However, Chicanas have not been able to win as readily. Below I examine the experiences of Chicanas who lost elections to the positions.

Chicanas Who Lost County Judge Elections

Over the past twelve years, seven Chicanas, all running as Democrats, have sought the county judge position in Texas. The first two, running in 1986, were Socorro "Coco" Medina in Amarillo (Potter County) and Severita Lara in Crystal City (Zavala County). Medina lost her race in the primary election to the first African American male county judge.2 Lara received enough votes to make it into a runoff with the white, male incumbent. She won that election by one vote. The incumbant immediately called for a recount and personally appointed three of the five members of the recount committee and designated the chair. In contrast, Lara appointed one member to the recount committee. The results of the recount committee gave the incumbent the victory by two votes. Lara borrowed money to file a lawsuit in state district court and lost. She ran out of money to file an appeal and had to quit the legal fight. The following is taken from an interview with Lara in 1996:3

Gutierrez: How much did you end up being in debt? You said you borrowed seven thousand from the bank. Do you still owe money?

Lara: I finished paying it about three years after the election . . . all on my own. People told me to do fund-raisers. . . but I did not want to impose on the people and . . . then if something happened, and they went before his court, they were going to get it, and I didn't want them to go through that. So, I said it is my muleta [crutch, meaning responsibility] and I will pay for it. I finished paying for all of it about three years after. (26-30)

Lara detailed the emotions and surprising developments after the defeat in 1986:

Lara: We had put [in] so much work. I never paid anybody, none of the workers were ever paid. All their work was free. The campaign office was packed with people wanting to do free work. They believed in somebody. And it hurts me for them because they had hope, and it was gone. Yo todavia tenia mi trabajo. [I still had my job.] I was still a teacher, and I had money coming in, but these people that had spent so much time and their money, their diez [ten], their viente [twenty] dollars, it was a lot to them. And after that, I cried. I cried for about a week or two. Every time I would remember and every time I would see him [the incumbent] . . . I would say . . . "porque era gringo il lo podia pelear" (because he was Anglo he could fight it). And to me, it was the money issue. That if I had had money, I could have probably, possibly won .... on an appeal because habia chuecura [there had been crookedness], and there was a lot of things that were wrong.... And the people he chose... to be on the recount committee . . . were told, much later (and not to name names, because we are good friends now) .... One of them was paid money, you know. So, it doesn't matter anymore.