I recently had the privilege of watching a one-woman show at San Francisco’s Marsh Theater called “Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name?”. The author and performer was Irma Herrera, a civil rights attorney, who shared stories of her childhood as a Mexican-American girl in South Texas, anecdotes from her career as a lawyer and activist, and much more. I met with her after the show and she agreed to do an interview for my blog.
What made you decide to pursue a career in law? How old were you? What had you wanted to be before then?
I think the seed was planted when my mother admonished me with this phrase: “Muchacha eres una abogada sin libros.” She would say this to me because I asked many questions and was always arguing and trying to win others to my point of view. But perhaps the biggest influence was seeing the work being done by African-American civil rights lawyers on behalf of their community. When I looked at the ways that black people were treated in this country, I could can see so many parallels with the experience of Mexican-Americans in South Texas. I thought: “THAT’s what I want to do.”
When I first went to college I thought it would probably become a schoolteacher. There were very few role models for Mexican-American girls having careers. The traditional careers for women at that time were teacher, librarian, nurse, or secretary. I didn’t really have a very clear plan of what I was going to do. When I finished college I learned about the possibility of going to graduate school which a college friend, a year ahead of me, was doing. So I actually attended graduate school for one year in the field of Urban Studies, a program that I did not complete. I worked as an urban planner for two years before eventually deciding I wanted to be a lawyer.
What was your proudest achievement as an attorney?
I have always found this to be a difficult question. When asked what I’m most proud of as an attorney I usually turn my attention to this or that case. But in fact, what I’m most proud of is all the young women (and a few men) who I have worked with over the years, and whom I helped guide (along with many other folks’ input along the way). Quite a few worked with me right after finishing college, as administrative assistants, fundraising staff, legal assistants, and in other capacities in the organizations where I have been. In the course of an interview or while working together I learned of their interest in becoming lawyers, and I always encouraged them to pursue law degrees. I feel so proud to see them working in many different kinds of jobs. Some are not practicing law, but are using the valuable skills they learned in law school and as young lawyers in whatever their now chosen careers are: one is a realtor, who specializes in helping non-profit folks buy their first homes, several are policy gurus in various think tanks around the country, and many are successful lawyers who are working in underserved communities. Large numbers, but not all, of these folks are people of color. I am always so happy to I run into them, or exchange an email or phone call and to learn about their lives, their families, the work they are doing, as lawyers, as community members, and about their unwavering commitment to social justice.
Do you still practice law? Why or why not?
No, I do not practice law anymore. I left the last legal job I had, as Executive Director of Equal Rights Advocates with the idea of taking a year off. During that time I planned to travel, take classes, and work on a novel I had started decades earlier. But as it turned out, I ended up going back to work in journalism, which I enjoyed very much. Then I turned my attentions to writing a play and have been working as a playwright and cello performer for the past three years. I kept my license as an attorney current until two years ago when I went on inactive status, having concluded that I was not going to practice law again.
Recently, with the detention of so many immigrant children, a friend of mine asked whether I was interested in going to South Texas as part of a group of lawyers to meet with children. Initially I thought I would go back on active status as a lawyer and then I decided that that was not the role I wanted to play anymore. I preferred using theater to raise awareness about the issues that affect our community, rather than working as a lawyer.
What inspired you to create your one woman show, “Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name”? Had you done theater or creative writing prior to this?
I have written for many years, and of course, as lawyers, much of what we do is write. We write legal briefs, we write our research findings as we explore specific areas of the law, and analyze issues. And as I mentioned previously, I’ve also worked as a journalist, so writing and research have been a big part of my life.
But I had never worked in theater. My introduction to theater started with my taking a Telling Our Stories class at The Marsh Theater, which is a San Francisco Bay Area theater that specializes in one-person shows. I took the class at the suggestion of a friend whom I had told that I was having a hard time jump-starting my writing projects. Somehow the novel I was writing felt stale and I was NOT “feeling it.” Interestingly enough, this friend was a woman I had met decades earlier at a writing class. She and I were the only women of color in that class. Back then, both of us had very demanding careers. She was a radiologist teaching at a medical school, and I was a civil rights lawyer working with the Mexican-American Legal Defense Fund (MALDEF). We remained friends over the years and both of us became playwrights and solo performers.
That class, Telling Our Stories, was taught by David Ford, who is the Bay Area’s most respected teacher and director of the solo play. I learned that I absolutely loved telling a story in real time to an audience. I repeated the 10-week class several times and eventually began working privately with David Ford to develop my one woman show. I’d write this or that vignette, and perform at student shows, doing 15-minute pieces. I would get great feedback from other solo performers, from David Ford, and from audiences which would lead me to explore other things I might include in my story. Eventually, it became an hour-long one-woman show. And it’s always changing. A few scenes have remained constant, such as the one about my uncle being called Tom at work because white people weren’t interested in learning how to say his name. Part of what I find so exciting is the dynamic quality of a show where I have complete control over the stories I include and those can and do change to reflect what’s going on in the world around us. For example, the policies of the Trump Administration targeting immigrants only became part of my play in the past 18 months. Had you seen the play the first time it was produced, there was nothing there about immigrant rights. There was a lot of history about how the legal profession had changed during my three decades as a lawyer, particularly with respect to women. That is no longer in my play. Maybe I’ll write a separate play about that.
I absolutely love doing research and working on this play has led me to do lots of research about the history of the Southwest, the treatment of Mexican Americans and other minority groups, and the history of the GI Bill. One day my spouse says, “What were you doing all morning? I could hear you on the phone. Who were you talking to.?” I’d been talking to the Librarian/Historian at the Veterans Administration as I was collecting data on the building of Medical Facilities around the United States after WWII. Although there is only a single one-line reference to this in my play, I spent many hours researching this point.
I’ve also done lots research about names, different customs among various ethnic/racial groups about naming children, prior generations of immigrants choosing (or not) to change their names, and whether in fact family names were changed in Ellis Island (not typically .. this is a myth, although it may have happened on occasion). I’m excited to be working on a book project that is a companion to my show. I want to share some of this research as well as the wonderful stories people have told me about their names.
I’ve been really fortunate in getting my play on the stage after working on it for a relatively brief period of time. I work hard at my craft, and I have also been very lucky. By happenstance, I met a woman at a birthday party and we got to chatting about what we love, and learned one of those things was theater. She was the board chair of the community theater, and I told her I had written a one-woman show. She told me that her theater was interested in producing new work that had not previously been on stage and asked me to send her a copy of my play. I did, and that led to my piece being produced for the first time. That was almost three years ago. It played at a theater in Marin County and sold out two weekends, after which they invited me back for another two performances. Back then my play was called Tell Me Your Name, and it’s quite different from the particular production you recently saw, although there is some overlap in a few of the stories that I share.
If you could travel back in time and give advice to your 15-year old self, what would that advice be? Would you offer the same advice to a current 15-year old girl?
Read widely, anything that interests you. Today with the internet we can immerse ourselves in any subjects that interest us. The world’s libraries are at our fingertips through our computers and smartphones and tablets. Watch lots of TED Talks and make friends with people who are interested in matters that are of importance to you. Study other languages. The ability to speak another (or multiple languages) will open so many doors -- not just employment opportunities. It will also enrich your life in ways that you can’t even imagine.
Do something to make the world a better place, even tiny little things count. Say a kind word to another person, pick up that piece of trash you see on the sidewalk. Be respectful of others, be a good and loyal friend. Be kind and forgiving, especially to YOURself. Kids live with so many pressures about excelling at everything. And girls are especially burdened with false ideals of what we should look like and how we should act. Find out who you are, be authentic.
Those of us who care about civil rights, especially immigrant rights, have many reasons to feel frustrated and fearful right now. How do you maintain hope? What can young people like me do to make a difference?
These are dark times and there is so much hate and anger spewed towards immigrants or for that matter anyone perceived as “others”: gay and transgender folks, African Americans ... the list is long. I feel so hopeful when I see millions of people out in the street, protesting gun violence, and the Trump Administration policies. There are so many folks working to make the world a better place. There is evidence of goodness all around us. With social media we can learn of the good deeds being done by members of our community. I am often moved by GoFundMe campaigns. Folks are working at soup kitchens, helping DACA students fill out paperwork, the list is long, We can never give in to despair. There is always something we can do that will have a positive impact.
Are there any other questions I should have asked?
These are fine questions. Thanks for the opportunity to share some of these thoughts with you and your community of readers.
WHY WOULD I MISPRONOUNCE MY OWN NAME is playing at The Marsh theater in San Francisco through the end of January. You can learn more here: https://themarsh.org/mispronounce-my-name/irma-herrera/
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