Quilting Power
By Molly Rose Teuke

She's been called a rising star, power broker, populist, fiscal watchdog, even an anarchist. Los Angeles County Board Supervisor Gloria Molina is neither daunted nor impressed by what others think of her. The eldest of 10 children, she is accustomed to being a leader and knows she can't please everyone. Clearly, however, she's pleasing voters, because she's in her fourth term representing the First District on the powerful Los Angeles County Board.

A native of Los Angeles, Molina is the first Hispana to be elected to the California State Assembly (1982), Los Angeles City Council (1987), and the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors (1991). In all three offices, she has represented roughly the same geographical area and mostly the same constituents, primarily working-class families with few registered voters. Her county board district of 450,000 has the largest population living in unincorporated areas.

‘[S]ometimes it isn’t worth it to go along to get along, because that leads to being very mediocre in public office’

Her political skills were honed years before, as a community activist with a special interest in health-related issues. In 1970, she helped to found Comisión Feminíl Mexicana, a Hispanic women's rights organization, after realizing that neither the women's nor the Chicano movements were adequately addressing the needs of Chicanas.

While working in the Carter White House as deputy director of presidential personnel, she first considered a run for public office. "I was shocked at how nonexistent the Latino community was to policymakers in Washington, D.C.," she says. Following the adage that all politics is local, Molina returned to California and in due time made a run for the state legislature, hoping to carve out a higher public profile for Hispanics in her East Los Angeles district, where political clout was slim.

The first battle wasn't long in coming, and it proved a seminal experience for the rookie legislator. The state needed a dumping ground for a state prison, Molina explains. Officials wanted to locate it in her district which already had four prisons. From where she sat, siting a fifth, especially near schools and jobs, was a bad idea.

"I approached the [legislative] leadership," she says, "but they told me to sit back and take it, that I would have to deal with it, that fighting it would negatively affect my political career. Instead, we put together a community-wide strategy. We fought a very tough battle and we were successful."

"That experience," she adds, "taught me that sometimes it isn't worth it to go along to get along, because that leads to being very mediocre in public office. If you're not careful, you lose your purpose."

Molina's political agenda remained focused on the needs of her constituents. She's fought for expanded child care, affordable housing, park space for children, health care access-which she believes is the most important issue she faces as an elected official-and countless other issues that affect the quality of life in her district.

When pressed for her proudest achievement, she concedes that it was getting elected in the first place, because she did it on her own, with a modest campaign chest and a small group of dedicated friends, family, and supporters.

"Being the first Latina is a particular accomplishment, because this is supposed to be representative government," she says. "It paved the way for other women to get elected in the State of California, and it was an important barrier for Latinas to break through. We need to be at the table when it comes to policy making."

Her ability to help drive public policy has had a different slant with each elective office. She was able to help pass laws on a state level, but felt it didn't have as immediate an impact as her work on the city council, where she was involved in more immediate, day-to-day issues and was in closer contact with the people she served.

Today, on the county board, Molina is involved in larger policy issues, such as health and welfare, consumer protection, public safety and combating gang violence, the courts, county prisons, and improving the quality of life for the one million residents of the county's unincorporated areas.

She has a larger staff and is able to do more work behind the scenes when issues come before her, taking more time for analysis. As one of five county board supervisors in the largest county in the U.S., Molina also plays a significant role in driving the county's $16.5 billion annual budget. "There's a lot of give and take, a lot of strategy and consensus building and negotiating with other supervisors and department heads," she says. "What drives me-it sounds negative but I don't look at it as negative-is anger. Anger and frustration. The system really doesn't respect many people in our community. It requires unbelievable leadership when you're representing poor, disenfranchised people who are needy, who don't have health care, and don't have a lot of money and power. The county board is a good place for the kind of work I want to do."

"My inspiration is from the very people I serve," she adds. "I appreciate it when people call my office or pull me aside at the hardware story or the grocery store and say, 'You helped me,' or 'You helped my mother.' Otherwise I would feel so frustrated, because you can't change things overnight. When people feel they benefit from what you're doing, you can feel empowered by the work you do. I'm proud of all the work I've done, all the legislation I've pushed forward," she says, "but I'm particularly proud of helping individual constituents. It's the everyday things that make a big impact on one person."

Just as Molina is dedicated to improving quality of life for her constituents, she turns her focus to her own family's quality of life. "As a single woman for a number of years, and being the eldest of 10 children, I thought I would be fine not having children of my own," says Molina, who is married to businessman Ron Martinez, "but now we have a daughter, Valentina, who turned 16 in June, and raising her is one of the most important things I do."

When Molina finds a rare lull in her work-those moments when, as she says, "I get to be Gloria"-she spends time with friends over quilting. "Quilting is a traditional kind of folk art. It doesn't have a Latino perspective, and I'd like to introduce that," she says. "I've done a couple of pieces that have a Latino interpretation." One of those quilts, which she auctioned off at a benefit for Comisión Feminíl Mexicana was a representation of the traditional Mexican art of papel picado, with various mariachi instruments depicted. Another recent quilt, auctioned off at a benefit for the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund (MALDEF), depicted a piñata in bold colors on a black background.

Molina sees quilting as a logical extension of her desire to raise visibility and inspire enthusiasm for the Hispanic presence in our culture. "We all need to empower each other," she says. "I'm proud to represent the Latino community, but I'm also very proud to be American and to be part of this country. We have the kind of opportunity here that we would have nowhere else."

Return to Top