Community Essay : A Father’s Affirmative Action : A journeyman worker turned his beliefs into jobs 50 years ago. If more had been like him, the issue might be settled today.

Race and ethnicity have always been factors in employment. I learned that from my father. The challenge is what to do about it. Californians will be asked that question, most likely on the November ballot. My father, however, had an answer long ago.

Herman Sillas Sr. was born in El Paso, Texas, in 1907 and, seeing no future there, left as a young man to start a new life out West.

Dad arrived in Tucson, Ariz., when a manufacturer was hiring everybody and anybody to clear up debris left by a major explosion on the premises. Around-the-clock shifts were employed to get the plant up and running. My father seized the moment and worked three shifts, straight through. Twenty-four hours after being hired, the crew he had started with returned. Dad was sent home to rest with a promise of a permanent job.

I don’t know how long my father worked there, but he established himself as a hard worker. When a lead man position became available, he was offered the slot. he was the first Mexican American to become a lead man. He proudly accepted and looked forward to the five cents per hour increase that came with the title.

Payday arrived and my father’s check didn’t reflect an increase. He brought the matter to the attention of his foreman, who referred Dad to the boss man’s office. Dad entered the plush office with check in hand and a few tools hanging from his overalls.

Excusing the intrusion, my father advised that he had been promoted but someone had mistakenly failed to increase his pay. The boss announced that there was no mistake, since it was the company’s policy not to pay Mexicans above laborers’ wages. That may have been the company’s policy, but not my father’s. He took affirmative action. He grabbed the wrench hanging from his overalls, knocked the boss out and fled. He didn’t stop running until he reached Los Angeles. No doubt he caused a re-examination of the company’s promotional practices.

By the time World War II started Dad and my mother, Lupe, had two children and Dad had become a sheet metal journeyman. He had a young Japanese American apprentice, Ted, working with him. The federal government took Ted to one of their camps for the duration of the war.

Meanwhile, my father helped build ships for the Navy. After the war, he returned as foreman to a large sheet-metal fabricator. Ted, on his release from camp, asked my father for a job. Dad welcomed Ted back and invited him to start the following day.

Two other sheet-metal journeymen heard that Dad had hired a Japanese apprentice. They angrily marched into the office and reminded Dad that we had been at war with Japan and told him, “If you bring a Jap in here you can give us our checks.” Dad accommodated them. Ted started as planned. Years later, when my father started his own sheet-metal business, Ted went with him as a journeyman. To become a journeyman a person had to serve years as an apprentice. In addition, an employer had to verify that the apprentice had acquired journeyman skills and was prepared to pay journeyman wages. Once a journeyman, always a journeymen. My father never hesitated when an apprentice was ready; he “turned out” numerous African American journeymen.

Looking back, I guess Dad was some kind of an affirmative action officer enforcing his own policy. He didn’t believe people should be treated differently because of their race, creed or color. He knew some folk felt differently. He took care of it in his own way. He’s gone now, but we would have had a lot of discussion on the anti-affirmative action initiative cloaked in the language of the civil rights movement.

He probably would have said, “Son, no one should have to worry about being kept from working or promotions, because of what they are. But sometimes you have to remind folks.” He did. If more had, Californians wouldn’t be discussing the issue.