By Alexis DePaolis:
TW: child abuse, sexual assault, suicide
“We’re not going to let them do this to you anymore. We’re not going to let them do this to us anymore.”
Once a victim of the most horrific abuses, a Chicano finds the strength to overcome tragedy. By César Chávez’s side, he finds his own journey, and his voice. Now a successful lawyer with a flawless case record, Antonio Salazar-Hobson hopes only to inspire others to rise above difficulty and become the best version of themselves.
Kidnapped at four years old by caucasian neighbors from Arizona, Antonio was sexually abused and sent to a famous California guest ranch where he was trafficked to the whims of visiting pedophiles. For years as a young child, he suffered from muteness which further prevented him from protecting himself. After years of abuse and believing the only way he would be returned to his family was in a body bag, Antonio attempted suicide at the age of nine. The attempt failed. To this day, he believes this was an act of God providing him a second chance at life.
Later taken in by a local Mexican family after being deemed ‘too old’ for the interests of these men, Antonio progressed into advanced courses at Lodi High School, He was one of two non-white students permitted in the advanced program. It was here in Lodi, California where he met César Chávez, a Mexican American labor leader and civil rights activist, who took an interest in Antonio. Chávez requested to hear Antonio’s story, but, reluctant to admit to his abuse, Antonio weaved a false tale and was invited to join Chávez’s bodyguards. After serving for a time, Chávez introduced to him the possibility of becoming a labor lawyer for the union workers, an opportunity Antonio had never considered before.
It was the 1980s, and in this new life as a lawyer, Antonio flourished. Gone were the days of fright and abuse. Standing in a crowded courtroom, he gained a new identity — a chance to become someone important, strong enough to protect himself and aid in protecting others: others who could be seen as most in need of help, from transgender people to laborers and union workers, to immigrants searching for a way of life in an unforgiving court.
Thirty-five years of cases later, Antonio proudly boasts that he has never lost a case. He attributes this to his mother Petra, who is always, “on his shoulder,” watching over his work and reminding him of its importance. In one especially memorable case, a transgender worker in San Francisco in 1988 sought to gain use of the bathrooms of the gender they identified with. After a long case, the individual was allotted use of private bathrooms and, as a result, the entire policy regarding transgender treatment in San Francisco changed. Now, the area where this case took place on Castro Street is known as one of the most famous gay districts in the world.
In his book, Antonio, We Know You, Antonio details his full life story and his experiences with César Chávez. “I am a writer,” Antonio says. “And this is my story.” It is a story regarded with a great deal of pride, not due to the horrors he experienced, but because of the love of his family that helped him endure it all. Antonio speaks especially fondly of Petra, and the memory of her strength which proved to be an enormous motivation. He wished to be, “Chicano enough for her,” and found himself struggling with his own identity for a time until he believed he was still close enough to the child he had been prior to his abduction. It was only when his family realized he was still the same brother that he was welcomed back — that was over forty years ago, and his connection to his loved ones still runs strong to this day.
Along with family, Antonio attributes much of his success to the seeking of therapy. Being able to talk to someone without judgment aided him greatly in recovering from his early trauma, and he believes strongly that those who are struggling should seek out their own support. It was once against culture to reach out, especially in Mexican American communities, but the times are beginning to change for the better. “More accessible programs need to be created,” Antonio insists.
Mexican American communities are often impoverished and cut off from much of the resources of white America. Antonio’s hometown of Scottsdale, Arizona suffered greatly from the COVID pandemic. It was far from the only Mexican American community to be placed in this position. For thousands who waited in line for tests, only one hundred were delivered each day. This led to a vast imbalance in health services and a significantly higher case count for at-risk communities. Growing up with a lack of running water and constant exposure to pesticides due to his years working farms as a teenager further encouraged Antonio to fight for the rights for his people and all of those often forgotten in the dust of society, including that of the Native Americans or, as they prefer to be called locally, Indians.
It is a long road to self-love after a great tragedy, but Antonio cautions that one must always remember themselves and have faith in a better future. “You have to believe as a young adult that you will find love,” Antonio says. “You have to protect your heart. You are someone.”
