It is complicated

Today I am off. The designated holiday honors the work of César Chávez — but several weeks ago, allegations surfaced that he had sexually abused women. His own partner in the struggle for farmworkers’ rights stated that he raped her, and that the trauma resulted in children she was forced to give up for adoption.

Sexual crimes are horrific. The act itself may be brief, but the trauma it leaves behind is lifelong. The shame belongs to the perpetrator — not the victim.

So now, as a society, we sit with this. What do we do when a hero turns out to be human in the worst way?

I am thankful for the day off. I am sad for the victims of his crimes. I am thankful for my latte — and sad for the unhoused man who could only come in and ask for a cup of ice water.

Last night, I stopped at Dollar Tree. Several unhoused individuals were outside the store. One approached me and asked if I could help him out. I told him I didn’t have cash. He said, “All I need is a loaf of bread.”

I went inside and filled my basket — paper bowls, light bulbs, dog treats, candy for my son. And a loaf of bread. It looked a little out of place in there, honestly.

As I approached the register, an odd thought crept in: What if the cashier gets upset? What if she thinks I’m just enabling the problem? Then I caught myself. She had no idea why I was buying bread. That was a story I was telling myself — not reality.

I paid. I walked out. I handed the man the bread.

The spirit of a day like this — the spirit of the man we were meant to honor — is to advocate for those who cannot advocate for themselves. We can choose to continue that work, even as we also demand justice for victims. Both things are true. Both things matter.

It’s complicated. It’s never easy. But it’s work we need to do.

When a cause you believe in gets complicated, how do you decide what to carry forward and what to let go?​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​