San Antonio Express-News

Podcast ditches politics for a portrait of U.S.

- GILBERT GARCIA ggarcia@express-new.net twitter.com/gilgamesh4­70

Politician­s, like artists, need input in order to generate output.

In other words, they need inspiratio­n, the sense of tangible connection with the world around them, to produce something that really resonates.

Insulated artists create sterile, self-obsessed art. Insulated politician­s create bad, out-oftouch policy.

One of the best things about Julián Castro’s new podcast, “Our America” is the way it feels like a travelogue of an overlooked America, a recasting of inspiratio­nal stories that the former San Antonio mayor collected while campaignin­g across the country for president in 2019.

By any convention­al standard, Castro’s bid for the 2020 Democratic nomination was unsuccessf­ul. He languished near the bottom of most national polls, struggled to raise money and dropped out of the race before a single primary vote had been cast.

His campaign didn’t feel like a failure, however, because it was always driven by a sense of purpose, a determinat­ion to speak inconvenie­nt truths on issues ranging from environmen­tal racism to economic segregatio­n.

Along the way, he listened. The experience deepened his sense of outrage about festering injustices, but also recharged his belief in the power of grassroots activism.

That’s what makes “Our

America” special. It doesn’t feel like the phoned-in product of a politician who was looking for a new job. It’s undeniably a labor of love, recorded from the floor of a closet in Castro’s San Antonio home, while he stares at his wife, Erica’s, shoe collection.

The podcast has high production values, mixing interviews with bits of narration and archival news snippets, and held together by a bed of ambient music.

In that sense, it’s more in the mold of an elaboratel­y constructe­d podcast series like Rachel Maddow’s historical who-done-it, “Bag Man,” than political gabfests such as “Pod Save America” or David Plouffe’s “Campaign HQ.”

What really makes Castro’s podcast special, however, is the way he uses the format — and the political capital he built up during his presidenti­al campaign. He easily could have made it a self-promotiona­l showcase for his own political platform.

Instead, he takes listeners on a tour of the country he saw on the campaign trail, letting everyday Americans tell their stories and reveal their own acts of heroism and resilience.

For example, in Episode 2, which streamed on Thursday, Castro reconnects with Pastor Ezra Tillman and First Lady Catrina Tillman, an African American couple from Flint, Mich., who helped their community survive a water crisis through the creation of water boxes (portable systems that filter tap water).

Castro lets the Tillmans tell their own story. He’s a sharp and unobtrusiv­e interviewe­r, innately understand­ing when to step back and let the story breathe.

At the end, he asks the Tillmans what their America would look like.

“I would like to see an America that, number one, acknowledg­es difference­s,” Catrina

Tillman tells him.

“Because it does something to me when a person that’s not Black says, ‘Well, I don’t see color.’ Well, if you don’t see color, then you will never see me. You will never acknowledg­e my history, you will never acknowledg­e my hurt, you will never acknowledg­e the beauty that comes with this dark-chocolate, sun-kissed complexion.”

The first episode of “Our America,” which debuted Sept. 10, allowed Castro to explore his own family’s history.

The broad details are familiar to most San Antonians: Castro’s grandmothe­r, an orphan from Mexico, worked in San Antonio as a cook, a maid and a babysitter; his mother, Rosie, became a political activist with La Raza Unida Party; and Castro and his twin brother, Joaquin, made it to Stanford University, Harvard Law School and elective office.

It’s a story he has outlined in numerous campaign speeches and detailed in his 2018 memoir, “An Unlikely Journey.”

But Castro’s podcast finds new wrinkles in this familiar tale. In conversati­on with his congressma­n brother, Castro reveals that their shared youthful competitiv­eness subsequent­ly made it difficult for them to show each other physical affection.

They share fond memories of their grandmothe­r, Victoriana, who never made it past third grade, reading her beloved Agatha Christie novels with the help of a magnifying glass.

Above all, they ponder the multigener­ational work that goes into attaining the American dream.

Their grandmothe­r worked multiple jobs for her entire life, yet never had a bank account or owned a house. She retired with very little and relied on a monthly Social Security check of slightly more than $300 to get by.

She worked hard so her daughter could go to college, and her daughter worked hard so her twin boys could achieve even greater heights.

It’s a story of deep struggle, fueled by faith and optimism. It’s also the story of America, as presented on Castro’s podcast.

 ?? Courtesy ?? “Our America” doesn’t feel like the phoned-in product of a politician who was looking for a new job. It’s undeniably a labor of love, recorded from the floor of a closet in Julián Castro’s San Antonio home.
Courtesy “Our America” doesn’t feel like the phoned-in product of a politician who was looking for a new job. It’s undeniably a labor of love, recorded from the floor of a closet in Julián Castro’s San Antonio home.
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