“Philosopher” that is how Professor Tacho Mindiola greeted me when I visited the Center for Mexican American Studies (CMAS) between classes. His keen observational skills caught that I always had one of my political theory books in my hand. Hence, the nickname. Professor Mindiola was part of a group of young educated brown men across the nation who in the 1970s began to devote their lives to creating initiatives to advance the educational attainment of Hispanics, and advocate for their political and socioeconomic empowerment.
When I was at the University of Houston and began hanging out at the center, I quickly learned his backstory. After High School, following a brief stint in college, Professor Mindiola enlisted in the U.S. Army and was sent overseas. Upon his return to Houston, he earned an undergraduate and master’s degree and was one of the first Hispanics to whom an Ivy League School bestowed a doctoral degree. Once hired by the University of Houston, he fought a protracted battle with the University’s hierarchy to get tenured and worked hard for the resources to establish and maintain CMAS.
I may have taken only one course from the Mexican American minor curriculum that he created, but Professor Mindiola and the Center impacted me. Then, as an immigrant who had lived in rural Mexico for half of my life, I reasoned that I did not need to take the CMAS courses to understand what it is to be a Mexican. In retrospect, I was wrong. Being around CMAS and observing and absorbing the activities conducted during Chicano Week placed in perspective what it is to be a Hispanic, i.e., Chicano, in the United States of America. Through this annual programmatic activity, Professor Mindiola created a vehicle where students experience their culture and explored ideas and writings authored by his peers. I still have two of the thought-provoking books in my library which I borrowed from CMAS and never returned, Occupied America by Rodolfo Acuña, and The Making of a Chicano Militant by Jose Angel Gutierrez. In the former, Acuña argues that the Mexican American War was a premeditated aggression to confiscate more than 525,000 square miles of Mexican land; Profit was the underlying motive. The latter is Gutierrez’s autobiography. Renown for his charisma, intelligence, and Malcolm X-like mentality, he offers an insightful and powerful personal account of his life at the forefront of the Mexican American civil rights movement in South Texas in the 1960s and 1970s. Both works underline the challenges Hispanics encounter growing up “en el otro lado” and are groundbreaking contributions to the study of Chicano politics. Then, the books were not on any syllabus in the milquetoast political science curriculum.
Through CMAS, Professor Mindiola also exposed students to Dr Chuy Negrete’s entertaining and inspiring music-based narration of “La Raza’s” journey to and in America. Via CMAS, I discovered Corky Gonzalez’s epic poem “I am Joaquin.” The poem delineates the complex and conflicting internal and external challenges Hispanics endure in the search to find and empower themselves. It revealed that whether one identifies as Hispanic, Latino, Chicano, or something else, we are all protagonists in its themes and should proudly affirm: “I am Joaquín. The odds are great. But my spirit is strong, my faith unbreakable…I SHALL ENDURE! I WILL ENDURE!”
Like many of his students, after UH, I found out Professor Mindiola was always very accessible. I would send him the essays and analysis I produce about Latino voting. He would review them and encourage me to submit them for publication. One of the most impactful suggestions he made was to tell me to have my research archived at the UH Library. I have not inquired about that possibility; But his words were empowering. Professor Mindiola made one feel like we all had something significant to contribute to the Hispanic story in this nation.
The last time I saw Professor Mindiola was around the end of 2022, the beginning of 2023. He called me saying he had something for me. I went by his house on my way home and picked it up. It was his latest work, “Race Talk in a Mexican Cantina.” For shy introverted students like me, establishing a relationship with such an accomplished person was beyond meaningful.
As a young man, Professor Mindiola’s one-word acknowledgment made me feel seen. As an adult, I realized that all who were fortunate to know him not only benefited from his pioneering initiatives but also from his wisdom, courage, confidence, and gracious subtle rebellious spirit.
