[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 145 (1999), Part 19]
[Senate]
[Pages 28148-28149]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]



           IN RECOGNITION OF LUIS ALBERTO ROBLES PADILLA, JR.

 Mr. BINGAMAN. Mr. President, on September 9, 1999, I had the 
pleasure to be one of the keynote speakers at the Sixth Annual 
Scholarship Awards Banquet sponsored by the Hispanic College Fund, Inc. 
The Hispanic College Fund selects a student among the group of 
scholarship recipients to convey remarks on their behalf at the Annual 
Awards Banquet. Mr. Luis Robles, who attends Stanford University, where 
I attended Law School, spoke to the crowd of over one hundred people 
which included Members of Congress, Hispanic Business Leaders, friends 
of the Hispanic College Fund and family members of the award 
recipients.
  Even though Louis is not from my home state of New Mexico, I feel 
that it is important to recognize the dedication, hard work, and 
commitment that this young man has undertaken in his academics and in 
his life despite great adversity. The remarks that Luis made to those 
in attendance that night left the room in utter silence. His remarks, 
and those of the teacher who nominated him for the scholarship, show 
that nothing in life is unattainable. This young man serves as an 
example that if you believe in yourself, believe in hard work, and 
believe you can achieve your goals, you can do anything and be anyone 
you want to be.
  Mr. President, I respectfully ask that the attached statement which 
Mr. Robles made to the Sixth Annual Scholarship Awards Dinner and that 
of his teacher, Mr. David Layton, be printed in the Congressional 
Record.
  The statement follows:


                     remarks by Luis Alberto Robles

  I remember the day well . . . a few weeks after weeks after 
Thanksgiving in 1986. The gray Seattle morning smelled like drizzle as 
my father, Luis, and my mother, Maria, escorted me along evergreen-
lined 8th street, to the school bus stop for the very first time. The 
other children laughed and frolicked. But without knowing English, 
without knowing what they said, my parents and I only stared in wonder.
  Next thing I know the enormous school bus is pulling away, with me on 
board: frightened and alone. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. The 
window was cold against my nose. My parents smiled worriedly, waved, 
and off I went . . . to Cherry Crest Elementary.
  I had no idea what the future held.
  I had no idea what graduation was, let alone college.
  I had no idea that some day in the distant future I would standing 
here before you tonight.
  Good evening.
  Buenas Tardes.
  My name is Luis Alberto Robles Padilla, Jr. I am a sophomore majoring 
in Industrial engineering at Stanford University. I feel very 
privileged to join you tonight, and am honored to be speaking on behalf 
on this year's scholarship recipients.
  On their and my behalf, I would like to offer a heartfelt thanks to 
the Hispanic College Fund, the corporate sponsors, the Board of 
Trustees, and American Airlines.
  I would also like to thank the Lockheed Martin Corporation, in 
particular, for my scholarship. The scholarship is a tremendous help to 
my family, and I am truly thankful.
  I would also like to share a part of my story: personal experiences 
that

[[Page 28149]]

have shaped my life, ideas that have shaped what I believe, and people 
that have made me into the person that I am today. I will begin on 
December 17th, 1997, my 17th birthday:
  ``Dr. Johnson. . . . Dr. Johnson. . . .'' As I wearily walked down 
the artificially lit corridor, I realized someone was paging my 
father's doctor. I turned and ran towards the intensive care unit that 
I had left only a few minutes ago, towards my terrified mother and 
toward my father's labored breathing. The sterilized odor of Harrison 
Memorial Hospital overwhelmed me as I raced through a maze of white 
walls to confront his death.
  After bolting through heavy metal doors, I saw doctors and nurses 
rushing frantically around the room. I could only hear one sound. It 
filled the air, was audible above all the commotion, and drowned out 
the heavy pounding of my heart. The monotonous beep of the monitor 
meant ``Pappy'' was gone forever.
  While sitting next to him, a body drained of the warmth and energy I 
had always known, I focused at the crimson drops that stained the 
yellow linoleum floor and the crisp white sheets; slowly remembering 
what a terrible ordeal the past six weeks of hospitalization had been. 
My life had changed forever since the day I sped through traffic, with 
my Dad shivering in the back seat next to my worried mother. I was 
scared to death without even knowing that the killer was Leukemia.
  Although the chemotherapy proceeded well, it also gradually wore my 
father away. The first side effects were a loss of appetite, 
accompanied by nausea and vomiting. His hair fell out next, and I could 
tell my father's courage was beginning to waver. A look of pain and 
anguish had replaced his usual smile, and with each passing day, he 
looked more like my grandfather. It all seemed like a bad dream, both 
frightful and surreal.
  While packing his belongings, hours after he had passed away, I found 
a note intended for me. It was in Father's handwriting; blurry 
scribbles because the medicine made his hands shake. I sat down and 
cried because it said in Spanish, ``ya es tiempo de luchar,'' which 
means, ``it is time to take up the struggle.''
  The poem he wrote to me, titled ``Oda a mi Hijo,'' ``Ode to my Son'' 
goes like this:

     Quiero cantarte una cancion,
     (I want to sing you a song)
     Desde lo mas profundo de mi alma,
     (From the deepest part of my soul)
     Brisa suave, que refresca y calma,
     (Soft breeze that refreshes and soothes)
     Tu tierra fecunda que riega mi oracion.
     (Your fertile soil that showers my prayer)

     El agua se hizo luz y dio una planta,
     (The water turned to light and created a plant)
     La tierra hecha vida, dio on rosal con un boton,
     (The soil transformed into life and bore a rose in full 
           blossom)
     Carne de dos almas hecha con amor,
     (Flesh from two souls, made with love)
     Fue la suave brisa, que refresca y canta.
     (It was the soft breeze that refreshes and sings)

     Con el correr de los anos, pajaro se volvio,
     (As the years passed, it transformed into a bird)
     Dejar el nido quiere, hace el intento de volar,
     (Yearning to leave the nest, it attempts to fly)
     La brisa, el amor, el cielo derramo,
     (The breeze, the love, the heavens overflowed)
     El destino esta en tus manos, ya es tiempo de luchar.
     (Destiny is in your hands, its time to take up the struggle)

  I find it hard to understand Dad's absence, and that he left exactly 
on my seventeenth birthday. But though I miss him everyday, I am 
grateful for all the time we spent together and everything my father 
taught me. Through my family's Mexican restaurant, he showed me what 
Hispanic business leadership is: hard work, dedication, and most 
importantly, helping others and the community.
  My father pointed me in the right direction, and made me believe in 
myself. There is good in this beautiful world, and life will always 
receive my best effort. Rather than cause embarrassment, my heritage 
will always instill pride within me, and I will succeed. I know he is 
proud of me.
  Ultimately, by succeeding I hope to influence other Hispanics. When I 
look at many of my Hispanic peers, I see them giving up on school, 
giving up bright futures, and giving up their dreams. Their 
intellectual capacity has nothing to do with it, and the issue is 
complicated, yet they also do not have the support or the 
opportunities.
  At this point, I would like to thank my parents for their unending 
love, my family for their constant encouragement, and all of my friends 
for their help and support. I would also like to thank Mr. Paul Torno, 
who worked with me even after retiring. Special thanks to Mr. David 
Layton . . . . even though I lost my father, a great man and teacher, I 
am lucky to have found another great teacher, another great man. 
Finally, I thank my mother, an incredibly brave and strong woman. Most 
of all, however, I thank God all the blessings.
  I and the other scholarship recipients, as well as countless other 
Hispanics, are yearning to fly . . . trying to fly . . . learning to 
fly . . .
  Once again, I would like to thank the Hispanic College Fund, and its 
sponsors.
  We want to demonstrate that anything is possible by working hard and 
following our dreams.
  We want to see more Hispanics graduating from high school and 
college.
  We want to have more Hispanics in business and government positions.
  We want to truly thank all of you for helping us strive towards our 
goals.
  Thank you and good night.
                                  ____

                                                   March 25, 1999.
       To whom it may concern, Luis Robles has asked me to 
     recommend him for acceptance for your scholarship. Few tasks 
     will be as easy for me to do. I have known him as a student 
     for two years in both honors history and honors English 
     classes so I feel quite qualified to speak about his 
     application.
       It is impossible for me to recommend Luis without telling 
     his story first. No other student in my 19 years of teaching 
     has accomplished more with such adversity. An only child of 
     immigrants from Mexico, Luis learned more than values from 
     his parents; he learned who he was, who he could become, and 
     what he could give back to his community. His father ran a 
     small restaurant on our island and hired family and friends 
     who needed work; but to keep dreams alive he insisted they go 
     to night school and paid their tuition if they maintained a 
     B. This pride and dignity wrapped in such strong humor are 
     his legacy. Tragically last year his father died of Leukemia 
     in his son's arms on his son's 17th birthday. As the only one 
     who spoke clear English, Luis sold the restaurant, managed 
     his mother's accounts, supported her till she finished her AA 
     degree, and found work at the local hospital.
       His commute to Bainbridge is 60-80 minutes each way. But he 
     knew what he wanted--to be blunt we run one of the hardest 
     programs in the state. He has aced every honors or AP course 
     we offer. His maturity is beyond his years. He seeks out 
     criticism and he listens and grows with suggestions. 
     Specifically he has worked hard on his writing knowing that 
     here his voice needs to be clear and purposeful. In both 
     independent and group projects, Luis has had the discipline 
     and creativity to make the connections between ideas, events, 
     and more importantly to things in his own life. His work has 
     shown original thought and a true conviction to understand 
     the complications of individuals struggling to find 
     meaningful solutions to their problems. Luis embodies the 
     belief that this is his life, his chance to make a 
     difference, his chance to give back far more than he takes. 
     Make no mistake, he will take advantage of all you offer.
       Luis has shared with my family the poetry his father wrote 
     and the poems he has now written back. It is his genuineness 
     that I wish to commend most. His 4.0 G.P.A. has been matched, 
     the high marks on the SAT equaled, but none have his vision.
       It should be obvious how strongly I feel about Luis; his 
     heart separates him from the rest. If you have the chance to 
     talk with him, you will understand.
           Sincerely,
                                                     David Layton,
     Faculty, Honors Program.

                          ____________________