Staying power

In early December, several thousand people ran or dragged themselves across the finish line of the California International Marathon in front of the state Capitol. It was an impressive test of endurance, but in some respects a relatively short one, measurable in simple miles. Around the same time, we decided to seek out 10 Sacramentans whose careers have been unsung marathons, long-distance hauls through courses they laid out for themselves years ago.

Some began consciously and deliberately, others didn’t know they’d started until they were already a good way down the road. Driven by different engines—a sense of community, a need to make a difference, empathy, stubbornness—each of them have been doing what they do for at least 20 years. In this holiday season, with its deeper lessons all but lost beneath artificial illumination, we wanted to draw a little attention to their lights. And to find out what makes them run. What got them started and whether it’s been worth it. What keeps them going.

Most of us make modest contributions, enough to ease our consciences and hopefully help out a little. This time of year, especially, our attention is drawn, however momentarily, to others. These activists—all are activists in its essential meaning: They act—answer that call year-round, and have been for a long time now. Their histories show in their faces and in their voices. They speak for themselves here. There’s a measure of reassurance in those voices, and in the evidence that many of their lives have been grounded in adaptability and serendipity, rather than meticulous planning. In some ways, they’re as surprised as anyone at where they’ve come to.

These 10 are also all testimonies to sheer doggedness. There’s a lot to be said for perseverance, not much of lasting worth is built without it. But, like retirement money and a beer buzz, it’s hard to hang on to. People burn out or move on, turn inward again. Then they watch from the side of the road, sometimes cheering, gratified that someone is still out there running. Maybe, as Buck Busfield says—and Yogi Berra might echo—the secret to keeping going is not stopping.

Desmond Jolly
director, University of California Small Farm Program
37 years

What is your profession?

My professional training was in economics, and I have applied it in two areas—principally, consumer and agricultural economics. Economics is about choices people make between various alternatives either as individuals or as a society.

How did you get into this line of work?

Progress is often a series of circular movements, sometimes involving one step forward and one step back, sometimes two steps forward and one step back, and sometimes two steps forward and two steps back. “Progress” is a dialectical dance. Taking a sustainable approach seeks to mitigate some of the contradictions.

Driving back from San Diego recently, I saw a series of signs along [Interstate] 5 proclaiming “Congress made the Dust Bowl.” Well, Congress did not cause the drought that California has been experiencing. People made the choice to plant almond orchards expecting the best-case scenario to continue as far as water for irrigation is concerned. Now the water is not available in the amount they had expected. They planned for a best-case instead of a sustainable scenario, not a good basis for an almond orchard in a virtual desert.

Did you imagine staying focused on this work for so long?

When you are younger, you just focus on what is in front of you. Now I know that social revolutions take at least one generation, possibly several.

Would you choose the same profession again?

Absolutely! To be able to witness and participate in a seminal moment in modern history, the awakening to an alternative paradigm, that of sustainability, is a rare privilege.

Buck Busfield
theater producer and playwright
more than 20 years

Describe how your work in the theater began.

My brother Tim offered me a job as a performer and playwright for the Fantasy Theatre [school tour]. I said I’d give him two years. We really didn’t know much about producing theater. We learned quickly how difficult it was. We naively thought we could make money by producing theater. A year and a half into the venture, it was clear we just couldn’t. In 1994, we had enough money for one show. I told everybody that if this show doesn’t do well, we’re going to close the theater. It was called The Virgin Weeps, and it did well. It was just kismet. It got us just enough money to go to the next show, then we got just enough money to go to the next show after that.

Why did you commit to doing this?

It’s fun, and I do it pretty well. When all cylinders are firing, we do 34 productions a week. We’re the most prolific theater west of the Mississippi, possibly in the country.

What did you want to be when you were a child?

A baseball player, a musician, a stop-motion animator, a film director.

Do you think that you made a difference?

We have delivered a lot of theater to an awful lot of kids. Many who would never have seen theater.

What keeps you going?

Just don’t go away. Just stay, keep hammering and hammering away, and don’t stop no matter what.

Jeanie Keltner
anti-war activist
more than 20 years

What is your profession?

In my other life, I was a professor of English at Sac State, but now I’m a [volunteer] progressive media activist.

How has the community responded to what you do?

With love and support. And an occasional middle-finger salute.

Do you think that you have made a difference?

Everything makes a difference. Although we haven’t stopped the wars—they’re way too profitable for too many—we activists have turned the majority of the people in this country toward peace. And I know young people have been influenced by seeing their former professor in the streets carrying a sign. We haven’t changed policy—but we are daily changing the atmosphere.

What did you want to be when you were a child?

When I was 4, I raised my hand in church to answer the preacher’s rhetorical question. Around the same time, I wrote my first poem, “Why must there be war?” and drew myself in a purple dress at an easel holding a palette. I also have a little yellowing sign I made for a club my sister and I had: “promes sloved 5 cents” [the child’s version of “problems solved 5 cents”].

Would you choose the same profession again?

It’s joyous to express oneself—so many people don’t express dissenting views because they are afraid of looking foolish. To that degree all dissent is liberating for the dissenter—and the culture.

Nilda Guanzon Valmores
executive director, My Sister’s House
more than 20 years

What is your profession?

I consider myself a child advocate, helping poor or disadvantaged families.

Why did you commit to this line of work?

I believe that, politically, if we are really going to strive for a healthier and happier community, nation or world, that we have to make sure that as many children as possible have a strong foundation of physical, emotional and financial security. And as part of My Sister’s House, and as a mother and an aunt, I want to make sure that my children and nieces and nephews choose safe, nurturing and truly loving partners.

Do you think that you made a difference?

I know My Sister’s House makes a difference when I hear a child express their thanks for feeling safe and now performing better in school. I know My Sister’s House makes a difference when I learn of the job success of some of the participants in our Women to Work Program. I know My Sister’s House makes a difference when I see the women come into our shelter depressed and timid, but leave more confident and happier, knowing they are no longer with an abusive partner.

What did you want to be when you were a child?

As a child, I thought I would choose between these four professions when I became an adult: a teacher, a lawyer, a nun and a singer/actress.

Would you choose the same profession again?

Most definitely. Though I may not be rich, my life has been enriched.

Robert Caulk, Ph.D.
chief executive officer, The Effort
43 years

What is your profession?

I create and lead health and human services for low-income people.

Did you ever imagine that you would stay in this field for so long?

No. No, I thought that we would stop the war in Vietnam, we would end racism as we knew it, that we would create a fair and equitable society with a negative income tax so that everyone would have access to a reasonable amount of income and we would have a health system that would provide health services to everybody. So we accomplished a couple of those things, but not all of them.

Was there a particular point when you committed to this line of work?

Yeah, there was. I remember it distinctly. When I was at San Francisco State finishing my bachelor’s degree, my mentor in the public administration department took me aside and said: “Bob, fill out these papers, because I have one appointment to the Woodrow Wilson School of Public [and International] Affairs in Princeton every year, and you’re it.” And I said, “Well Dr. Roseman, I plan to go to the school of social work for a master’s in social work.” The look on his face was a combination of disappointment and disdain.

Would you choose to do this again?

Y’know, I don’t know. I may have been able to be successful in business and been able to make a bigger contribution by having a big pile of money to throw around. Other than that, I’ve got no complaints. I’ve enjoyed what I’ve done. I’ve lived a charmed and special life.

Ron Stork
senior policy advocate, Friends of the River
more than 32 years

What is your profession?

River saver.

Did you imagine doing this work for so long?

It was supposed to be a short-term thing, but there always seemed like there was more to do.

What was your best and worst experience?

I think the best experiences are the simple ones underneath the canopy of the sky and the stars. The worst experience is pretty easy to recall: that sinking feeling in my gut when I realized that Rep. John Doolittle was in the majority party of the United States Congress—and that a previously harmless guy with some odd ideas would have a crack at “initiating a great new dam-building era” in the United States.

How has the community responded to your work?

It’s a river town, so a lot of people can embrace being Friends of the River. That feels good, although more friends and more resources would definitely be welcome.

Steve Flannery
chief park ranger, Sacramento County Department of Regional Parks
32 years

What did you want to be when you were a child?

I remember wanting to be a fireman when I was real young, but my parents took my brothers and sisters camping quite often, and I remember some favorable experiences with park rangers that lodged in my memory.

Why did you commit to working for the parks?

I believe parks are refuges where people can get away from the tension and problems that everyday life can bring, and as such parks should be clean, safe, tranquil and interesting.

What are you proudest of in your work life?

I guess what I’m most proud of was tracking down a rape suspect after a four-week investigation period and securing a $500,000 arrest warrant when he fled the state. He was quickly apprehended and extradited back to California, and subsequently convicted and sentenced to 30 years in prison.

Do you think that you made a difference?

Yes, I do. I am not easily satisfied with my job performance and that of the rangers I oversee, and I am always willing to try new tactics, innovations and ideas. With 24 years as a patrol ranger under my belt, I also see the “big picture” fairly well and concentrate my energy and time accordingly.

Daisy Mah
parks maintenance worker/horticulturist for the city of Sacramento
more than 28 years

Did you imagine staying working in parks maintenance for so long?

Not really, but you might say it grew on me. Translating inspiring images in books into the reality of the real world is a lifetime challenge. You also take the good with the bad. A public gardener’s patience is continually tested by not only the challenge of caring for the plants, but dealing with the effects of destructive behavior from visitors. A long-term commitment was the only path to realizing my dreams.

What are you proudest of?

During the past 21 years, I have been fairly successful transforming a neglected site into a place of beauty for two-legged creatures and providing food and shelter for winged and feathered friends.

Why did you commit to doing this work?

I enjoy the challenge of developing areas within William Land Park into theme areas, such as California hillside, desert, white and green plantings, island. With limited resources and staffing, it takes many years to be successful. I try to emulate Mother Nature, who took thousands of years to create richness, habitat and diversity. I hope to leave it in good condition for my successor.

Do you think you have made a difference?

Year after dismal year, I used to hope that it will be nicer in the spring, but now it is nice throughout the seasons … the birds, bees and butterflies tell me so.

Marghe Covino
gay-rights activist, co-founder of Project Tocsin
more than 20 years

How did you get into this line of work?

I was raised by Italian immigrants. My godfather was a Sardinian anarchist, so I come by skepticism of governmental beneficence in my DNA.

Did you imagine staying with this for so long?

No, I didn’t think I’d be doing this for so long. But the work isn’t done. We’re still dealing with second-class citizenship for whole classes of people.

What did you want to be when you were a child?

That’s so long ago, I can barely remember … OK. I don’t remember playing with dolls as a child, but I do fondly remember my toy typewriter. I wrote endless stories on it—so I concluded I wanted to be a writer—and I am.

Do you think that you have made a difference?

I’d like to think I’ve made a difference in several ways—but all of us who put up, speak up and show up, make a difference. What would our country have been without Martin Luther King, Gloria Steinem, Cesar Chavez, Harvey Milk and the thousands of unrecognized others who show up all the time, all of their lives. They are life’s participants, not mere observers.

Jerry Sloan
gay-rights activist, co-founder of Project Tocsin
36 years

How long have you been doing the work you do?

While I have been an out gay man for nearly 50 years, I have been an ardent gay-rights activist since 1973—36 years.

What is Project Tocsin?

A research organization that monitors the political activities of the radical religious right in California.

How did you get into being an activist?

I was swept up in the gay activism of the ’70s, following the 1969 Stonewall riots.

Why did you commit?

Because of all the injustice and discrimination GLBT people have been subject to.

How has the Sacramento community responded to what you have done?

It has been received well by some people. And some wish I would just shut up.