A few nights ago, I came across a video on Instagram — like many I’ve seen before — of a Latino emphatically expressing support for President Trump.
By now, it’s no secret how this Latina feels about him. (I often write about how his cruel policies target and hurt the most vulnerable in our Hispanic community.)
In the video, the journalist, Lauren Mayk of NBC Philadelphia, was reporting on how the Latino vote in Passaic County could sway the upcoming race for governor after Trump made significant gains there last year. She asked Angel Castillo, owner of El Primito Restaurant in Passaic what he liked about the president.
His reply? “Well, I like everything.”
Everything?!
Castillo, a 48-year-old Dominican immigrant, said he likes how the president is “trying to enforce the laws” and agreed when asked if he’s happy “with the way things are going” in Trump’s administration.
Of course, I sprinted to the comments.
There, I found exactly what I expected: Calls for an immediate boycott of Castillo’s restaurant, comments lambasting him as a “self-hating Latino,” and at least a dozen calling him a “lambón” or “lambonaso” — Dominican slang for brown nosers and bootlickers.
I’ll admit, I love a good boycott as a driver for change. (Seriously, I haven’t shopped at Target since February!) And the rest are all things I’ve thought or even said about other “Latinos for Trump.” But that was in the comfort of mi casa, at brunch with like-minded friends, or in casual conversation with vetted acquaintances. Not in a comment section on social media, directed at one specific individual.
I wondered if Castillo was also at home, scrolling through these same thousands of comments, regretting what he said. One read: “I live in the area and I’ll be sure to avoid this spot at all costs!” Another: “We Dominicans do not claim him.”
And I continue to wonder how so many Latinos can still support Trump. How can they reconcile it? How can they support him so boldly and unabashedly — even as he continues to vilify us and is constantly making decisions aimed at harming us.
Jose Marte, a Clifton resident and longtime customer of El Primito, told me he’s disappointed in Castillo’s “uncompassionate” comments and said he won’t be dining there anymore. He let Castillo know so, too, in the comments.
“I’ve been a loyal customer for over 20 years,” said Marte, a second-generation Dominican who’s 41.
“As a kid, my dad would take me to the restaurant every Sunday and we’d eat their famous mondongo (tripe) soup,” he said. “We’d go so often, my dad was on a first name basis with [Castillo’s dad] …Now, I can’t support this, I can’t support Trump or support anyone who does.”
For Marte, this stance is not about being Latino, “it’s about being human.” “If you see what’s going on, it has to hurt you, move you,” he said, referring to Trump’s indiscriminate immigration sweeps.
Still, as a Dominican man, Marte told me he’s not shocked by the steadfast support other men in his community have shown Trump. “There’s that mentality of the macho man, that mentality of ‘we need to support the strong man making the hard choices’,” he said.
Yes, this machismo is deeply-rooted in our shared Latino culture. But for many Dominicans, Marte says, it’s “the Trujillo effect.”
Rafael Trujillo was a brutal, repressive dictator who ruled the Dominican Republic for nearly 30 years until his assassination in 1961.
“We hear the story of Trujillo from our parents, grandparents, how things were better when he was in power, how you could leave the door of your home wide open and no one would dare come in to steal because if they did, Trujillo would ‘eliminate’ them,” he said.
“And I think that’s why so many [Dominican] men in the community really believe a ‘strong man’ like Trump is the solution to all our problems.”
Sigh. A strong man like Trump, and if he wins the race for governor, a strong man like Republican candidate Jack Ciattarelli who not only has Trump’s endorsement but shares many of the same views as him. (¡Dios nos libre!)
Ciattarelli won’t “win this election without getting Democrat Hispanics to vote for him,” Kenny Gonzalez, Hispanic spokesperson for the New Jersey Republican State Committee, recently told CNN.
Castillo, one of those former Democrats, said he’d never voted Republican until 2016 when he voted for Trump. Months ago, Ciattarelli stopped at El Primito while campaigning in Passaic. A photo of the two smiling, shaking hands is now on Ciattarelli’s Instagram. (So we all know where his vote is going, right?)
I wanted to talk to Castillos to see how the backlash had affected him. Not surprisingly, he took his social media pages down but I got him on the phone.
On the other end was a polite, direct, and well-spoken man. We talked freely in Spanish, his first language. (And, despite being born in this country, mine too.)
Castillo, a devoted family man and a proud 24-year veteran firefighter in the Passaic Fire Department, told me that neither NBC video — the 55-second video posted on social media and the three-and-a-half-minute one on their site — included “everything I said.” (That’s all common for most news interviews.)
“Me hicieron ver mal‚” he said. “They made me look bad.” He explained he’d agreed to speak with Mayk about the high cost of living in N.J. and was caught off guard by her questions about Trump.
“I got a little nervous and it didn’t come out right … Now, everybody thinks I’m some kind of monster,” he said.
“I’ve gotten so many threatening calls, people saying they’re gonna burn down the restaurant, sending mean messages to my kids on Instagram,” Castillo said.
His son missed high school to avoid the harassment from classmates. His daughter, who’s 21, was also taunted at work.
“If I would’ve known this would happen, I never would’ve done the interview,” he said.
He told me he wished to spread a different message that was not aired.
“The message I hoped, and still hope, those in Washington, D.C. could hear from me is ‘we need [comprehensive] immigration reform,” he said. “That’s what I’d like to see, I’d like to see hardworking, deserving [immigrants] get green cards, get a legal status.”
He apologized “to anyone who felt hurt” by what they heard. “It wasn’t a complete representation of my viewpoints,” he said.
“I’m not a bad person and I would never wish ill on anyone,” he told me. Then, he thanked me for giving him another chance to say his piece. “These last few days have been hard,” he said. “It’s time to get back to some positivity.”
And just like that, we found some common ground. But now, let me be clear. Does this friendly chat mean I agree with his original comments about Trump? No chance.
Do I condone the threats against him, his family, or even his business? Absolutely not.
Here’s how I see it: Boycotting his business because you disagree with him is fine. But to come for someone, in this aggressive, unhinged way? That’s stooping just as low as Trump.
Want to make your voice heard? Stop typing, stop trolling, get out of the comment section, and then head straight to the polls.
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