n increasing numbers, Hispanic immigrants are putting down roots in the Roanoke Valley. They're pouring concrete, opening hair salons and filling classrooms. Some employers, meanwhile, are attributing their success to this new labor pool. In this occasional series, The Roanoke Times explores the local impact of the national debate about immigration.
During a busy Friday night dinner waiter Jesus Malaga serves an armload of food to their Anglo customers. Malaga came to America four years ago from Mexico and, like many Mexican immigrants in Roanoke, first landed a job at El Rodeo.
The down side of driven
The factory owner agreed to be interviewed several times, under the condition that his name and the name of his business not be published. Like many area employers, he fears the attention could prompt an Immigration and Customs Enforcement raid.
But he will say this: Rocio was as instrumental in making his business a success as he was. Promoted to plant manager in 2001, the woman who was once homeless bought her first American house — she now owns two, including one she rents out for extra income — and invested in a 401(k).
“She feels, and I do, too, that we built what we have here together,” her boss says. “She’s very proud of the company and what it’s done, and she blames me for being the way she is.”
Video 
Exhausted after spending the morning working in a local factory and the lunch hour serving immigrant workers at her family's restaurant, Rocio Ortiz curls up on a recliner with her stuffed animals in the back office of El Charly to briefly recover.
Still, Rocio found herself wanting more — especially for Carlos, who seemed to have no ambition beyond restaurant cooking and playing in his band. Why don’t you learn English? Why don’t you have a monster, too?
The monster caught up with Rocio last year, when there were one too many production orders at work and one too many arguments with employees. She and her boss were routinely putting in 70-hour weeks.
After Rocio fired a Honduran woman who couldn’t get along with another employee, the woman’s brother showed up, threatening to beat Rocio. Another time, after a bad storm, Rocio climbed atop the leaking roof, tacked down a tarpaulin and told her workers: We have a deadline to meet. Get back to work.
“In retrospect, I probably worked her too hard,” the plant owner says.
After not missing a day of work in five years — not even when she had the flu — Rocio finally crashed. She was exhausted, depressed, wracked with back and stomach pains.
Why am I doing this?
And: How much more do I need?
Then she remembered Roberto’s holey socks and thought: Maybe Carlos is right. Maybe we have enough.
Recent comments
Share your thoughtsRead all comments