A life filled with firsts
Fueled by education, civil rights lawyer and educator exemplifies what it means to break barriers as a Latina woman in the U.S.
SAN ANTONIO — Civil rights lawyer and professor Norma V. Cantú points to the big impact little events made in her life.
There was “the worst bring-your-daughter-to-work day,” she says, laughing.
In those summers, her mother drove her west of Corpus Christi to Robstown for a day to work in the cotton fields. Cantú’s assignment was to fill a big sack. It took all day.
Then there was school, which began early. It led to graduating from college at 19 and graduating from Harvard Law School at 22.
But perhaps the best event was in third grade, when she got her first library card. “And they didn’t limit me to the children’s section.” So, she began with religion and philosophy. By sixth grade, she was reading at a 12th-grade level.
Cantú went on to work for the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund, the U.S. Department of Education and the University of Texas at Austin.
In April, she became chair of the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, the first Latina to do so.
President Joe Biden appointed her to finish out the term of Catherine Lhamon, which ends at the end of 2022.
Cantú has kept a relatively low profile for someone who has been so influential for so long.
A professor of both education and law at UT-Austin, she led legal defense fund for almost 14 years as regional counsel and education director. During the Clinton administration, she served as assistant secretary of education for civil rights.
Cantú also served on the BidenHarris transition team for education.
This Saturday she’ll speak at the 14th annual Fabulous GED Brunch
that benefits GED programs at Palo Alto, St. Philip’s and San Antonio Colleges. It’s a speaking gig the 67year-old civil rights lawyer and educator had no problem accepting, given her own debt to a community college that gave her a library card.
She talks about great-grandparents born on “ranchos” and Mexican American students punished for speaking Spanish at school.
Today, Cantú commutes to Austin to teach at UT and does most of her commission work remotely.
The commission is connected to a network of 56 advisory civil rights committees representing states and U.S. territories. It holds briefings on civil rights issues, examines those issues and writes papers or statements ranging from bail reform to federal disaster assistance.
It recently has looked at racial disparities in maternal health and the role the federal government can play in reducing such disparities.
In December, the commission will hear from government officials, volunteer groups and others in Puerto Rico regarding the civil rights implications of disaster relief during Hurricane Maria. The commission held a similar briefing about federal relief during Hurricane Harvey.
“Both (hurricanes) happened at about the same time,” Cantú said. But “resources that flowed to Houston were disproportionately higher than to San Juan.”
In Houston, the commission also has heard “a sense of dissatisfaction from low-income minority homeowners. Houston got more money overall, but it was disproportionate to white homeowners,” she said.
The commission has studied civil rights concerns over the K-12 digital divide, even before they became magnified by the coronavirus pandemic.
The commission has studied the lack of Wi-Fi access, which led to a “homework gap” that, in turn, has resulted in a loss of academic achievement, especially for minority and disabled students.
The increase of hate crimes against Asian Americans has been at the top of Cantú’s list.
The commission has been identifying projects for 2022, including how federal funds were spent during the pandemic. For example, in Texas, federal funds were approved for COVID-19 relief that allowed public schools to buy personal protective equipment for which they could be reimbursed, she said.
Property wealthy districts were able to buy protective gear and be “reimbursed right away,” Cantú said. “Property-poor districts weren’t able to take advantage of that relief.”
Ultimately, “in moving quickly, (the money) didn’t move with equity,” she said.
This semester she’s teaching a writing seminar at the law school on the role of courts in school reform. In the spring, she’ll teach a course on Americans with disabilities.
At Saturday’s virtual and in-person GED event, Cantú said she will find it easy to talk about how education can change lives. In so many ways, it reflects her own.
Latinas are reaching for glass ceilings that have yet to see a crack.
“We’re still finding our primeras, 50 years after white women and 20 years after Latino men.”