After getting drafted in the mid-1960s as the Vietnam War intensified, I saw all my fellow Soldiers as “olive drab green.” Despite my childhood immigration from Nicaragua, going back there didn’t cross my mind. Nor did fleeing to Canada like about 125,000 draft dodgers.
Ironically, my father who came to California from Nicaragua in the 1940s was also conscripted and saw combat in Europe for two years. Following the war, he returned to Central America for me and my mother so we could move to San Francisco and pursue the American dream.
I worked hard in the corporate and government world, reaching eventual service as Assistant Administrator, U.S. Small Business Administration in Washington, DC, over a decade ago.
Throughout my lifetime, the worst discrimination I ever felt was political – not racial, nor ethnic.
Of course racism existed back then, as did heroic efforts to defeat it. It was inspiring to hear Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. tell the world, “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their