“We are gears in this economy”: Restaurant Owner Jorge López Stands With his Workers

On February 16, Lauren Ashley Smith felt like eating dinner out. Instead of ordering from Taquería Y Fonda as she usually does, she walked over. But when she got to 108th Street and Amsterdam Avenue, the restaurant had closed unusually early.

Smith found a notice pasted on its metal roll-down gate. “Closed for tonight,” read the note with a sad emoji. “Reopen tomorrow.” A hashtag in both Spanish and English followed:

#Undiasinimmigrantes
#Onedaywithoutimmigrants

Smith, 31 and a TV producer, shot a photo and posted it on Instagram. “My stomach is empty but my heart is full of love and support for my community standing up for what shouldn’t even be an issue. #adaywithoutimmigrants,” her post read.

Taquería y Fonda, established 18 years ago by Jorge López, serves Mexican market food and traditional cuisine. López, who’s 66, doesn’t close Taquería y Fonda often: two days for Christmas, two for New Year’s Eve and three days over the summer. “We close only on major holidays so everyone can enjoy those days with their families,” he said in Spanish. But on February 16, he made an exception.

López’s restaurant is one of 45,681 eating and drinking places in New York State, providing 833,440 jobs — nine percent of the state’s employment, the National Restaurant Association reported. Last year, Hispanic-owned businesses of all types contributed $668 billion to the U.S. economy, according to a report by Geoscape, a business intelligence firm.

Social media created “A day without immigrants,” a nationwide protest, in response to President Donald Trump’s crackdown on immigration policies. The boycott intended to tangibly demonstrate the ways America’s economy would falter if immigrants were deported or prevented from entering the country.

As of 2015, Hispanics made up almost half the nation’s foreign-born workers; they’re more commonly employed in service jobs, as at Taquería Y Fonda, or in transportation or construction, while native-born employees are more likely to enter management and professional occupations. Salaries vary too, with foreign-born workers earning considerably lower full-time wages ($156 less per week) than their native-born counterparts, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics.

“We’re simply doing this out of solidarity,” explained López from behind the counter, one evening after the boycott. “We’re not part of the organization or anything.”

He juggled a ringing wireless home phone in his left hand while clicking at the cash register with his right. In an yellow worn cap and black apron, he was short but sturdy, and shook hands with a regular customer who walked into the restaurant and ordered “the usual.”

Tauqería y Fonda brimmed with customers, as it usually does after 7 p.m. Customers waiting in line walked in as Mary López, the owner’s daughter, showed them to their seats. Many of the people eating burritos and dipping tortilla chips into three different salsas were Columbia University students, but tourists from all over the world also make their way to the restaurant, as do neighbors who drop by often.

López doesn’t know the activists who organized the strike, but he supports the cause. Before February 16, he asked his employees if they wanted to be part of the boycott. When they didn’t show up for work, he got his answer.

“So we closed,” said López in Spanish, tying a knot in one of the plastic bags he was readying for delivery. “And that showed the power and integration immigrants have here. It showed that we are gears in this economy. We do our part and, if for some reason we weren’t here, something’s gonna happen.”

Diners sat on white plastic chairs and tables, under a TV set broadcasting news and shows in Spanish. They ate tacos, quesadillas — corn tortillas filled with cheese — and other cooked dishes. Tlacoyos. Gorditas. Huaraches — corn dough pancakes covered with fresh cheese, sauce and vegetables. Tortas — rolls filled with beans, avocado, meat and cheese. Tamales.

On one red wall, Emiliano Zapata, an icon of the Mexican Revolution who fought for campesinos rights, glowered down from a dimly lit poster. Next to his image, López usually posts a list of the day’s specials.

Mary López, 17 and a high school senior, works with her parents in Taquería Y Fonda on Sundays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays. She wrote the sign explaining the Day Without Immigrants protest.

“It was a movement on a topic that’s super important to us,” she said in Spanish. “Because we contribute to the country and we wanted to show that without us, there is and will be a huge impact, economic-wise,” she finished in English.

On May 1, several advocacy organizations like The Fight For $15 and the Food Chain Workers Alliance and organized social movements like Movimiento Cosecha, held another boycott under the same name.

“February 16 and May 1 are just warm-up exercises,” said Brenda Valladares, a volunteer organizer in Movimiento Cosecha. The ultimate goal for A Day Without Immigrants is to hold a seven-day boycott, she explained in Spanish. “This is just the beginning of strike season.”

Immigrants labor is intrinsic to everyday activities, she pointed out. “Vegetables harvested by immigrants stock stores like Wal-Mart, are used for cooking in restaurants around the country, and supply fast-food chains,” she said. “And on the other side, there’s the money immigrants spend buying things and the taxes they pay.”

In the Latin American countries where many immigrants come from, protests, boycotts, and strikes are common. Not here. “We’re done lobbying, talking to congresspeople and waiting,” Valladares said. “We’re going to boycott the country for a week and shift the power.”

López grew up in the mountains of Guerrero, Mexico’s third poorest state; after high school, he moved to Mexico City and graduated from the National Polytechnic Institute, a prestigious public university, with a hotel management degree.

When he turned 30, a friend invited López to spend the summer in New York City. After two months, they flew home, but López was intrigued. “I never thought I could live, work and build a business here,” he recalled years later. “But I saw it as a place with many opportunities to offer.”

Decades back, the city had fewer Mexican restaurants, let alone authentic ones, explained López. His hardest business challenge nowadays is the competition. He has to maintain high standards in food quality and depends on his wife, daughter and employees to constantly taste dishes. He doesn’t allow his efforts to slacken.

As for future boycotts and closings, “we will support the people that need representation and ask for an opportunity to be here legally and live in peace in this country,” said López. He employs nine cooks, waiters and deliverymen from Mexico and Ecuador.

Among customers, “a lot of people were shocked, but they were also with the movement, proud that we closed,” said Mary.

The restaurant remained open on May 1, however, as protesters marched in several cities across the country.

Kelvin de la Cruz, a regular at Taquería Y Fonda, said, “This is a country of immigrants and always has been. I support Taquería Y Fonda for having the back of immigrants. My parents are immigrants.” De la Cruz went on about how much he disagrees with the current administration as he covered his two meat tacos with green salsa and dug in.

“Let me tell you one thing,” López said. “The trompudo (translation: blubber-lipped) is right about one thing. We do have a country, and proudly so,” he explained. “But we chose to come here and we’re working hard.”