For Beatriz Cruz, it has been a long road from a childhood spent wandering between the Texas borderlands of Mexico and the fruit orchards of Michigan's
Leelanau County. But now, as an adult fully settled in Leland, she feels she is beginning a new phase of her life -- one in which she is helping people like her former migrant worker parents adjust to permanent settlement, to an end to their hard traveling across the country in search of harvest work.
"I know the migrant community," she says. "I know what it is to not have parents who know how to read or write. So, when they said, 'This is what we need,' I said, 'Tell me what you want me to do.' "
What Cruz is doing is teaching "settled" migrant workers in Leelanau County how to speak English and preparing them to take their GEDs. And she does much more than teach. Cruz is pretty much "on call" 24/7 to the migrant community in Leelanau County. She also helps them interact with the wider community on many levels--takes them to doctor's offices, puts them in touch with services, takes calls at 3 a.m. when there are medical emergencies and an interpreter is needed. To understand why she does this, it is important to look at where Cruz, 31, comes from.
When Cruz was 11 years old, her family at last settled down in Leelanau County. The reason was simple. Her parents and their six children liked it here, liked the community, liked the schools. Beatriz, like most children who grow up amid two cultures, learned to speak both languages fluently. So, it became part of her "job," growing up, to translate for her parents, who never learned English, despite the pleadings of their children that they should learn the language.
Cruz grew up, got married, had children of her own, and eventually began working at the
Leelanau Children's Center, a preschool in Leland. It was there that she became aware of the specific needs of the Hispanic community. Like the family in which Cruz grew up, the students were doing fine with English, but it was their parents who were struggling with the language and, as a result, with other aspects of life.
So, she began with home visits of kids who were already going to the center. Going into the homes, she saw what she went through as a child: bilingual children with parents who knew no English and never finished school. About five months ago, to address this problem, she began formal English classes for the parents and helps them study to get their GEDs or high school equivalency diplomas. Cruz says that, because of her background, she feels a sense of responsibility to help her community.
"It all goes back to knowing what my parents went through," Cruz says. "I know how hard it was for them." Also, she knows how hard it is for the children, who need to go and translate for their parents if they need housing or medical care. "You grow up really fast when you have to translate and take on that role," Cruz says.
At a recent session, about a dozen students come to her class at the
Leland Public School. One of the students is Moses Ledesma, 31, of Lake Leelanau, who settled in the area 13 years ago after getting tired of the Texas-to-Leelanau migration. "I think she is great," he says. "She is a great help for the community. Sometimes, we want to learn, but we don't know how to, or where."
Cruz sees more and more migrants like Ledesma settling in Leelanau County. "It's just so much harder to be going back and forth and not totally knowing if the crop you're going to work at is going to be there in, say, Florida or Texas," she says.
Cruz does not see herself slowing down. She is working in a degree in social work from
Northwestern Michigan College, with her tuition being paid for by a benefactor who knew her when she was a migrant girl. "They saw what I was doing, and said, 'We feel you have potential if we provide the opportunity.' I cried. I mean, who would have all that faith in you to pay for your schooling?"
After she graduates, she wants to continue her work in Leelanau County, even though there are more job opportunities in Traverse City. "You feel like, if I leave will another person do it just like me? Are they going to treat them like I do? So, I want to stay in the area."
When Cruz talks about her work she speaks very quietly, but also very quickly, as if she has so many ideas she wants to get across in so little time. One gets the feeling she is that way in her work, as well.
"I just want to run to them," she says of getting calls at 3 a.m. "But you know I can't save every soul. My husband says, 'You know, Bea, you can't do it all.' I say, 'I know, but I wish I could.'"
Howard Lovy is a Traverse City based freelance writer who specializes in technology and innovation. He can be reached via email. Brian Confer is the managing photographer of Northwest Michigan's Second Wave.