In 1994, English in Action was founded to serve as a bridge and “create a culture where everyone has a voice,” reflecting the influx of immigrants from Mexico and Central America who struggled to learn English, express themselves and advance professionally — all while being the backbone of our tourist town’s service economy.
I’ve volunteered with English in Action since February 2020, right before the onset of the pandemic. This has been a rewarding and enlightening experience, as any respectable mountain-town dweller should be familiar with surfing liquid mountains and shoulder seasons in Spanish-speaking locales (this does not include Moab or Fruita).
The past year has shed light on both the stressors faced by members of our community who are LatinX immigrants, as well as the comparative handling of a pandemic in their home nations versus the U.S. (Spoiler alert: We’re not a “developed nation” by this metric).
What and who we as a community choose to highlight says a lot about us. It’s been fun to follow along with the Aspen Silver Lining project in The Aspen Times, which, full disclosure, I did from Central America for several months, “living off Yankee winters,” as Tom Petty opined in “Down South.”
Yet while Aspenites were busy color-coordinating closing day outfits to the ROYGBIV COVID-19 dial, I could not help but observe that the people who prepare our food, clean our RFTA buses, and serve as the foundation to our community are increasingly having to leave not just the Roaring Fork Valley, but in some cases the U.S. I am frequently tutoring students who used to live in the valley and are now in Mexico, Spain and other countries — unsure if or when they will be able to return. This is at best an interesting observation, and at worst a societal and economic harbinger of doom. If the pandemic has taught us anything, it’s that none of us are “better” than the person who earns a living washing their hands (and our dishes) in scalding hot water for under the table efectivo (cash).
I believe in science. This pandemic is real, it is deadly, it is destructive. Its long-term mental health effects are likely incalculable; its erosion of social utility, community, and relationships undeniable. It’s hard for me to imagine the Hope Center, Aspen Strong, English in Action, MIRA Bus, MidValley Family Practice, or other civic entities receiving enough support this year.
Yet after eight months spent largely seeing only half a dozen people 6 feet apart in a skin track while watching WHO covid overlays on Google Maps, I decided that If I’m mask-less outside without anyone 600 Powder Panda snow blade lengths from me, I don’t want the stink eye from someone whose money talks blue (thanks for another “Ideation of Ideas Festival”) but spends red threatening me with the monetary equivalent of an annual Premier Pass as a fine for breathing within Aspen city limits.
I did not journey to someone else’s home country to flout the rules, export the worst of Americana and disrespect the customs, culture and citizens. Rather, amid COVID, much of the U.S. — be it Albuquerque or Aspen — became a bit puritanical, politicized and panicked for my person, and in moments like this, Central America has never let me down.
Too often, the LatinX global communities that welcome our tourist dollars, thrill-seeking pursuits and tequila tolerances export their best and brightest to a country where professors scrub the dishes and floors of buses alone at 2 a.m. as Yankee winters turn to shoulder seasons, but without the economic boon. Over the past year, I have watched many individuals and businesses obtain PPE (aka “See Me Ski”) loans that qualify per the letter of the law, but run entirely contrary to the spirit. These juxtaposed global and local realities comprise different versions of the same metaphorical “100-day pin” we all crave — a uniquely American Dream, manifest at both extremes in a little place called Aspen.
Within these extremes — even in an exceptional place such as Aspen — lie the majority of people: individuals and families from around the globe simply doing the best they can with what they’ve got: incomplete data, variable conditions, uncertain outcomes, complex situations, outsized fears, external judgment and a social media feed full of FOMO.
The beauty is that we are each free to choose which reality we create — and in turn help others create — with our actions. In 2005, Bruce Berger wrote an essay entitled “Aspen Pastoral,” beautifully articulating the Aspen ethos of inclusive opportunity for all. Indeed, Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset greatly influenced Paepcke’s vision for an ideal fusion of “body, mind, and spirit.”
So today — and everyday — let’s take a moment to recognize and support the people who move mountains to clean the mountains on which most of us simply move.
If you’re interested in volunteering with English in Action, please contact info@englishinaction.org
