Whitney Kimball Coe:  

Everywhere Radio is a production of the Rural Assembly, and I’m your host Whitney Kimball Coe.  Each episode I spotlight the good, scrappy, and joyful ways rural people and their allies are building a more inclusive nation. 

Friends, today I’m excited to bring you a special episode of Everywhere Radio. Here at the Rural Assembly we’ve just wrapped up a beautiful virtual event called Rural Women Everywhere. This was a two-day festival celebrating the voices and contributions of women, featuring over 60 speakers from different geographies, backgrounds, and experiences. We heard from poets and artists, journalists and writers, civic leaders and activists. If you missed the event it’s not too late to go back and watch the reels at ruralassembly.org. 

 And today I’m pleased to bring you one of those fantastic conversations we heard at Everywhere—an interview between Gladys Godinez of Courageous Mujer Podcast & Norma Flores Lopez of Justice for Migrant Women. Regular listeners of Everywhere Radio will remember Gladys as the inspiring immigrant rights activist we spoke with in episode 2. Today’s conversation really spotlight’s Norma and her journey navigating the US as a child of migrant workers. 

Gladys Godinez: 

(Singing). [foreign language 00:00:09] the Courageous Mujer Podcast. I’m your host, Gladys Godinez. And I am here out of Lexington, Nebraska, and right smack in the middle of Nebraska. So welcome. I want to let you know that Courageous Mujer Podcast started in February of 2021, earlier this year, as you can only imagine. And we’ve started this podcast just to be able to embrace, celebrate and uplift Latinos throughout the states. So I am excited for you to get to know Norma, Norma Flores López is the chief programs officer for Justice for Migrant Women, and she is doing such great work. I look forward for you to get to know her and to get to learn a little bit about her story, her very important work and an upcoming event that she wants to invite you to. So without further ado let’s get started. 

My name is Gladys Godinez. I’m your host for Courageous Mujer Podcast here with United by Culture Media. We’re so excited to have Norma Flores López from Justice for Migrant Women. Norma, we were just talking two seconds ago and I mean, we kind of stopped talking. So I’m just ready to dig in into your story. You’re doing so much for not only my community here, in local Lexington, Nebraska, in rural Nebraska, but you’re also doing it for the nation and for migrant women specifically and children. I know a lot of your story also has the impact of children working in the field. So I want to dig into all of that. But first things first, can you tell us a little bit about yourself, who you are, where you’re from? 

Norma Flores López: 

Thank you for having me. As you mentioned, I’m working now as a chief programs officer at Justice for Migrant Women. And I draw a lot on my story, on my roots that inform my work and really inspire me to keep doing the work that I do. I grew up in the Rio Grande Valley in South Texas, in the very, very Southern tip of Texas, right in the border with Mexico. I grew up with parents who were migrant farm workers. Both of my parents were born in the US but were raised in Mexico. It was back when the border was a little bit more porous where the workers would come in from Mexico, go up north to go work the fields and be able to go back to their homes in Mexico. But then as policies ended up tightening up the border, my parents ended up having to be the folks that had the papers to be able to cross into the US and to be able to work, to feed their families. 

Both of my parents come from desperate poverty. Both of them come from agricultural backgrounds. My grandparents would have their own lands, but because again, because of these policies and we don’t really about the impact that it has on the families, and that ended up pushing my family to be able to come into the US and to stay in the US with the borders locking up. But it was my dad and my mom who each respectively were born, just so happens to be in the US side. And so with those papers, they were sent up north to go work in the fields at very young ages. My dad had to be pulled out in sixth grade, my mother in third grade, where she was able to read and write and do basic math and be able to write her name. 

They said, “Good enough.” Because again, that desperate poverty was really driving their family. And so that was how they met on the fields. And they continued that legacy throughout their whole lives. They’ve recently retired from being migrant farm workers and traveling up north. But they would take me and my sisters along. I’m one of five girls, and we would pack up all of our belongings to the back of a pickup truck. And we would make our truck up north to be able to follow the harvest and go up to the states like Indiana, Iowa, Michigan, Colorado picking anything from asparagus to apples, to detasseling corn and doing that back-breaking work for 10, 12 hour days. That is something that I did. Probably my earliest memories around the age of nine. And it was because of a lack of childcare. There was nobody to watch us. 

So we would accompany my parents. And like many migrant farm workers, it started off with play, let’s race each other, who could fill up this bucket the quickest? Let’s see who could be able to get there to the end, the fastest, and just ways to be able to entertain us while we were out there with my parents. That was their way of keeping us safe of being able to have us near them. They can keep an eye on us. But eventually that evolved into full-time work. And in the US you are allowed to start working at the age of 12 for an unlimited amount of hours, as long as it’s actually the school day. So what that meant is in the summers, I’d be working 10, 12 hour days, and backbreaking work using big, heavy tools, being exposed to billions of pounds of chemicals every year. 

What that means is really cold mornings or really hot afternoons, trying to keep up with the adults that meant working sometimes three, four weeks straight without any days off. And again, having to keep up with that work, and it was a desperate poverty that was also driving our work. And that’s the great irony is that the very farm workers who are picking the fruits and vegetables that we enjoy every day can’t even afford those same fruits and vegetables. We go to the grocery store and we see the markups, and we’re just astounded at how much they’re charging us back for the very fruits and vegetables that we picked and how they are outside of our reach. And so that really just inspired who I was. It was in the classroom that I explored who I was and what it meant to be a Latino, what it meant to be an American, explore all of those pieces of me, and to be encouraged to learn more about the history of farm workers. 

And so I was asked in a high school to think of a justice project and injustice in the US and I couldn’t think of a bigger injustice as a teenager than having to go work in the fields to be able to earn enough money to buy my school supplies while my classmates didn’t have to do that. And to be able to see already then I was becoming aware of this popular narrative of how folks in the country painted poverty as a lack of character, as laziness when I saw nobody working harder than my parents and how my parents were robbed at that quote unquote American Dream of how they were US born citizens and yet they didn’t even get basic education. They weren’t getting paid a fair wage for the hard work that they were doing. And it allowed me to explore on that side and I’m glad that I got to. I was encouraged to do that in school. 

And that’s what really inspired the activism in me and inspired me to be able to speak out even in small ways, like in the classroom, when they kept wanting to put me in remedial classes or ESL Spanish speaking classes when I was a very smart student. But it was just a failed system that just kept putting me to the default and lowering the bar for me, instead of giving me the resources I needed to be able to do well in school because I would start school late, or I would be pulled out of school early. And that was a challenge of dealing with that every single year. And so that… 

Gladys Godinez: 

Norma, before we continue the [inaudible 00:07:13], just let me taste a little bit of your childhood just for a little bit. I think the imagery of farms like we’ve talked before is the imagery is this white farmer in the fields harvesting. And even to this day, we still see that in TV shows and pictures, anything that has to do with agriculture, we don’t see an image of us. We see an image of a white farmer family overcoming their adversity, but not seeing the migrant farm worker that is currently helping with their harvest. I want to just reflect a little bit on your childhood if we may, revisiting a day-to-day piece for you and just talking a little bit about, because I don’t have that experience. I have an experience of working when I was a child, but I was working at a flea market in Inglewood, California. 

And then we would travel back and forth from Costa Mesa to Inglewood, to LA, to Bakersfield and just different places in the West Coast. And I was also working because we were poor, because we needed to eat, because we needed to have a house or shelter. So I understand the child worker piece. Can you explain to me a little bit more of what a day-to-day looks like, and is this still happening today? 

Norma Flores López: 

So I’ll start with the second part of, yes, it absolutely still is happening today. The numbers are really hard to come by, especially when there are no resources being put and being able to count these pieces. But it absolutely is happening. Our estimates say that it’s anywhere between 300,000 to 500,000 children that continue to work in agriculture and it is perfectly all for them to be out there. They are doing jobs that are incredibly dangerous, that have shown to have negative impacts on their health, both short-term and long-term, and it is also the deadliest industry for these children to be working in. The numbers are real, the impact that it has on education is also very real. So then you end up having these farmer [inaudible 00:09:16] dropping out at four times the national average. 

These are kids then without an education ending up having to repeat the story of their parents, of having to be trapped in that generational cycle of poverty that continues to drive those children to be out there working and risking their health. In regards to what my day to day look like, sadly, as I hear now, stories from children that continue to work today, there’s not a whole lot different. There are some pieces that are different, but there are these threads that tie my story together to them, to my parents and some of those same pieces that are out there. It’s backbreaking work. It’s work that really does crush you both figuratively and literally. For me, my day would start three, four in the morning having to wake up. And the night before I would always go to bed in my work clothes because it just gave me two, three more minutes, I would sleep. 

So I would be sleeping in my old work jeans and my t-shirt and we would lace up our money boots oftentimes with sore or hurting fingers from the day before, with aching backs from the night before, having to put on bandanas over the sunburns from the day before. Having to trudge along with your whatever equipment it was, whether it was a hoe that we were carrying, or it was a sharp scissors that we were holding that were a little bit on the rusty side, whatever it is that we had to take with us, all of our equipment. And then also our basic needs, although the federal government back then, and even today is supposed to guarantee us to have things like basic water or a bathroom, regular breaks, those were things we couldn’t count on. 

So I would keep water. I would carry on me some toilet paper. I would carry on me some snacks, some basic things that we wouldn’t trust anybody else. Because it will make the difference between life and death out there. And we knew that being out there in the fields, we were alone, we were at the mercy of the contractor or the foreman, whoever was speaking on our behalf to the grower, to the owner. And we knew that the chances of any inspectors coming out there were slim to none. There wasn’t anybody. And I can say that with certainty that out of all of the years that I worked out in the fields from when I was a young child, all the way through senior year of high school, I never once saw an inspector out there. Never once was I asked, how are you being treated? Are the rights being followed? 

All the applicable laws and protections. And I remember also in high school, when we talk about things like what a person is worth, we’re not just looking at the monetary side of things, but the dignity that comes with it. As a high schooler, there was a year where I had one of our foreman, this white man that just would yell at me on a daily basis, curse at me on a daily basis. Tell me that I was worthless because I wasn’t working at the speed that he wanted. I wasn’t doing the things that he wanted me to do. He just really took it out. He was miserable, hated working with us, quote unquote, Mexicans, and just really laid into me on a daily basis and cursing at me using bad words. My mother didn’t speak any English and she would be next to me and just say, “What is he saying?” 

I’d be like, “[foreign language 00:12:34] mommy. Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.” Trying to be able to protect my mom. My mom knew what was happening, but didn’t have the words to be able to do anything about it. And that was day after day, that whole year that I just had this man going off on me. And the same man, when he would be trying to rush us to hurry up through our fields so he could be able to go and help the other fields, when they had these young white kids working, because he wanted to be around his people. And with him, it was like night and day, with me it was cursing at me telling me how I was worthless. And with them, he was a ray of sunshine, super kind helpful. And I never really had the words to describe it until later on, somebody told me it’s really hard to yell and treat children badly when you have to go sit in church with their parents the next day. 

We were others, they weren’t, they were part of the same community. They deserve the dignity and respect, we didn’t, we were nobodies to them. 

Gladys Godinez: 

And Norma of that experience explains to me what you just said about the four times of the high school students dropping out. It explains to me why young kiddos may not see their worth, or may not feel like they exist, or may not feel like they’re somebody in this world because we get treated a certain way or because our stories tend not to matter. At some extent, that’s how I feel sometimes, our invisibility factor. I want to ask you at Courageous Mujer Podcast, obviously you’re on here because of your courage. What happened then in high school that gets, you said, [foreign language 00:14:15], I’m going to overcome this. I’m going to walk over and I’m going to graduate from high school. I’m going to make it to college. I’m going to just overcome really. And to me, you’re powerful, you’re growing, you’re courageous, you’re surviving, right. Because we’re surviving all of this. But to some extent it does affect us. It gives us some sort of trauma when we get treated this way, how did you overcome? What happened? What shook you? 

Norma Flores López: 

I drew inspiration from my parents. My parents were the type of people that would sacrifice anything to give us every opportunity that they couldn’t. And that is the story of so many immigrant families. They love us so much. They are willing to sacrifice anything for us. And my family was one of those. I was very fortunate to have parents that would be willing to cut a season short and come back early so I wouldn’t miss as much school, even though we felt those financial repercussions for years after that. My parents would go without, they would scrape together all the money that they could, and a full season of working in the fields to be able to get me a computer so I could be able to do well in school. This was back when computers weren’t everywhere, right. No, we’re not cheap things. 

And so with my dad, I remember sitting with him once and asking him what he wanted to be when he grew up. And my dad is one of the smartest people I ever have met in my life. He could do Math at the top of his head. I’ve taken him to big cities, and he’s just spitting out facts about Chicago and New York City and things that I don’t even know and I’m college educated. He’s just one of those that just loves to learn. And he told me he loves school. And one of his biggest regrets in life was that he wasn’t able to finish school. He would look around the house and he says, “You see all of this that we were able to build.” He’s like, “This is nothing compared to what I could have been had I been given the opportunity.” 

And so to me, that was more than enough of an encouragement to be able to finish school, to know that I’m being offered an opportunity that they were denied, that the American promise was supposed to give them and that they didn’t receive. And so to me, it mattered so much to be able to do more now that I had that opportunity, and I try to be able to inspire the next generations, to be able to see what a gift it is that they have of how much people have fought for and sacrificed so that they can be able to have that chance to truly be who they want to be to fulfill that promise, their full potential. And so, to me, it gives me so much inspiration to continue to work alongside the youth and to be able to see how they’re working hard, not only for themselves, but to be able to make it better for those that are behind them. 

And that’s how we’re going to get to the promised land, to the top, to be able to be in those positions of power, to be able to make real change as by all of us, not only looking out for ourselves, but to follow that example that comes from our parents, that comes from our roots, from our indigenous ancestors of not just looking out for ourselves, but to look out for our community as a whole. And to be able to make some real change, to change tomorrow to be a better place. Because we owe it to our parents, to our people that came before us who worked so hard and sacrifice so much for us. 

Gladys Godinez: 

That makes my heart warm because I can totally relate to my parents and how much they have worked, and same as your parents they didn’t go to the highest grade that they completed was sixth grade. So they didn’t complete middle school. They didn’t complete high school. But it was very much ingrained in us that education was very important. Therefore, we needed to go to high school. Therefore, we needed to go to college and try to be able to take advantage of those opportunities that, like you said, they never had. So let’s elevate and celebrate your parents. What are their names? 

Norma Flores López: 

There’s Refugio Flores and Carmen Flores Medina. 

Gladys Godinez: 

Yes. We have to do it. Because they come with us, right. 

Norma Flores López: 

Absolutely. 

Gladys Godinez: 

You just said he comes with me to Chicago. He comes into your New York [inaudible 00:18:28], right? My sister takes my parents everywhere and I take my parents wherever we can, because I know we want them to experience the fruit of their labor. And if at all possible through us, when we’re able and capable of doing that for them. So it’s really cool that you’re able to do that. So, okay. So we went to high school, you graduated, you overcame, where did you go? Did you go to college, close to home? Did you go to college away from home? 

Norma Flores López: 

Absolutely. Again, the Latino story, right where my parents wanted me close by. If I’m a good student, I’m going to be a good student in any classroom. And so why go so far away? And so I ended up staying close by and went to the University of Texas-Pan American where I did receive a wonderful education. I started as a Physics major with a minor in Math. I had dreams of becoming an aeronautical engineer and going on to Purdue University. And I had this whole other plan for me, but little did I know that God had a different plan for me. And I ended up really getting inspired to be able to share my story, the story of self, how powerful stories are and how that’s been a part of our communities for a really long time. Again, back to our ancestors, to the indigenous communities that we come from, storytelling is so important. 

And that’s what inspired me to be able to instead get my degree in communications. And so as a young activist, I had these big dreams of if I just share my story, it’s going to inspire so much change because the reason these things are happening, these injustices, these systems of oppression stay there because people don’t know. People go into the grocery store and they see these beautiful, bright blue skies and red barns and beautiful fields and they think that this is a reality. And it is my job to tell the real story of what farm workers are. And so I go out there into the world and very quickly learn that it takes a little bit more than a story. It takes real action. It takes collective action. It takes a community organizing. It takes pushing and holding our political leaders accountable. 

And I started to learn the ropes and that eventually led me from those small little towns where I would go and work in rural communities, harvesting those fruits and vegetables to Washington DC. And that’s where I’ve been dedicating my career of bringing stories like mine in front of our elected officials, the same way that they receive these big lobbyists and rich people. I make sure that they receive us farm workers, that they receive us immigrants, that they receive as essential workers, and to be able to hear our stories too. Because we matter too. I ended up then getting my master’s degree, the first one in both sides of my family to get a master’s degree in public policy. And was very proud shortly after when my little sister got her master’s in social work as well. And now seeing more of my family members, not only graduating from college, but going on and getting the higher education, getting master’s degree from that too. 

And so it’s been really exciting to be able to see it in my own family. And it gives me so much hope of what that’s going to mean for my daughter. I have a little girl and I have big dreams for her. And my dream is for her to be able to live in a world where the possibilities truly are endless, where to say that she’s going to be the next Latina president. And notice that I said next Latina president because I hope she’s certainly not the first one. I hope by then we have more. But that’s what I hope is that when she says something like that, it’s not something that’s so crazy, but that’s something that is totally could be within reach and that she could be able to do it with so much joy in her heart. 

Oh my goodness. I just want to wrap, your whole story it’s so interesting because I also have children and I have said very similar words that you just say. We want to change the world for our future, for not only our kiddos, but obviously our community. But if we can make that world a better place for our kids, then they will be able to have a better life than us, hopefully, in the future. And then it’s interesting, we flip scripts because I started with political, community organizing I was going in, but then I changed it. I flipped it. And I was like, well, we need to do communications. Our stories are not being told. And it’s just really a nice blend of both, right. We need to be able to plan both with political action. 

Gladys Godinez: 

You’re currently in Washington DC or outskirts of Washington DC and making those political moves and making sure they know our stories. And then also that both of them, I think I just said both at the same time, but yeah, just both being blended in so beautifully. And I hope that that encompasses change and it does allow individuals to see the real work that’s happening or the real things that are currently happening to our communities. We continuously see a lot of things happening specifically to Latinos, and I want to make sure we touch base into your career currently with Justice for Migrant Women. I want to make sure that we talk a little bit about the work that you’re doing now. You talked a little bit about policy, potentially lobbying, but can you tell us a little bit more about what that looks like for you. How you have embraced this job and your career? 

Norma Flores López: 

Absolutely. I’m the chief programs officer at Justice for Migrant Women and this organization, which was founded by our CEO and Monica Ramírez, who is a dear friend, but also a great inspiration. We work to be able to advance the human civil rights of migrant women, whether those are women that are crossing international borders, that are crossing state borders, both things that my family did, or even county lines. Folks that are moving to be able to provide for their families. And we believe that they deserve to be able to feel safe, to be able to be paid for their work, to be able to have an opportunity to provide for themselves and their families. And so we have a number of programming that is both from Washington DC space and being able to do the policy work to some of our culture shift and our narrative work that we do to be able to share these powerful stories of Mujeres from across the country and across the globe. 

And to even with COVID would that both Monica and myself having come from farm worker backgrounds, we got together at the beginning of COVID and said, “We need to mobilize, we need to get these resources out to our community.” Because having grown in these rural communities, in these farmworker communities, we knew that they were going to be overlooked as they have often been overlooked. They were going to be forgotten, they were going to be left out of so much of these emergency funds and aids that were being provided to communities across. And surely enough, those that did not have a social security number, those that did not have an ITIN were being left out of much needed relief. So many of the families that we got to work with were telling us about how they were struggling to find diapers for their children, baby formula, to be able to find toilet paper, right. That was the big thing that nobody could find toilet paper in urban settings, let alone in rural communities where farm workers had limited access to the health support that they needed, to PPE. 

And so we mobilized, we were able to fund raise upwards of millions of dollars of close to $5 million in emergency funds and in PPE and sent all of those to the front lines, to the small little organizations that again, we knew did not have the capacity to be able to get these federal resources. We gave them the funds. We gave them the PPE. We gave them the donations from big companies and said, “Distribute it how you know best your community.” And when they would tell us, “Well, what about others eligible.” Don’t worry about the eligibility. Don’t worry about any of these pieces. The idea here is we need to get this money, this emergency funds and support to the communities that needed the most. Because we were getting stories of hundreds of families waiting in line at food banks and not getting any food at the end of the four-hour wait, because they ran out. 

I mean, it was really dire and we knew that was going to happen. And we kicked our COVID work into gear and we continued to do the advocacy work around the Bandana Project and speaking out against workplace violence. We continued to do work around the rural civic engagement and making sure that people in rural America, we changed that narrative. So we realized that rural America is full of so many beautiful women, women of all the different colors and backgrounds and LGBTQ and indigenous and black and Asian American and all kinds of different things that are often not connected as probably being part of rural America. But then also encouraging them to be able to get their voices heard, to be involved, even if they can’t vote because they’re undocumented or because of issues with the justice system or anything else. 

There’s other ways to be civically engaged in and to have your voice heard. And so I can go on and on because we do so much wonderful work to be able to empower migrant women, to be able to change the way people look at us and to be able to recognize the power in our voices and our stories. And part of that too, we lead with Latina Equal Pay Day, which is coming up as well too. All of it is really important work that we welcome people who want to come and be a part of this work. Everybody has their little piece. You talked about the communications piece, the policy piece, there’s so many pieces that people can be able to bring the little [foreign language 00:28:11], little way of being able to contribute and to be a part of this movement of what it means to be able to create a world in which we can all be able to thrive, including our daughters, that we are raising. 

Our brown and black and indigenous and all these other different kinds of children that are coming up in this world. We want them to be able to fulfill their promise. 

Gladys Godinez: 

Let’s break it down for two people. I want you to have two people in mind, one Mr. Young little sister, right. She’s trying to figure it out. She’s trying to get her pay raise because she’s bilingual, or she’s trying to figure out how to get that promotion because she wants to get that job. What would be some words of inspiration for her if she is currently working somewhere, she’s trying to do her best, what would you tell her and how would you let her know, hey, you’re worth this continue to advocate on behalf of yourself. How would you inspire her to do that? 

Norma Flores López: 

So the first thing I would do is to be able to encourage her to bring her full self of who she is. I think that when we are able to be our full selves in our workplace, that’s when we are able to really see some magic happen. When we’re able to be able to be our best. And that means for me, I’ve been able to bring my full Latina self, to be able to bring my full personality into this, and to be able to really lean in and to know what I am worth, that when I go into the board room, that I alone know my experiences and to be able to trust in that and that that is worth something. And I say that because oftentimes when I work with members of our community, they feel like no, no, those people that are educated know more than me, they have a better understanding. And what I try to remind them is your lived experience, nobody can be able to replace that. 

Norma Flores López: 

You who works to be able to pick these fruits and vegetables, that is an invaluable service. That is a labor of love. That is such dignified work. That is so important to be able to keep our country going, more so than me now as a talking figure. And so to them to be able to remind this young Latina who’s coming into the boardroom, who’s coming into the office, who’s going out into the field, wherever it is that they’re being, to be able to bring them their full selves and to trust in their story and their abilities and their skills and their knowledge, because it is very valuable. And so that would be the first piece of it. And I’ll couple that with saying that a lot of the times we tend to put this on those young Latinas and say, it is you who is making the determination of where you’re at. And instead of looking at those systems that we’ve been talking about that are keeping that Latina, she could work so hard and be her full self. 

And that doesn’t guarantee that she’s going to be paid a fair wage, because there is the wage left out there that there is the lack of rights and protections. There is the lack of protection even, and making sure that she’s able to get paid her fair share. All of those pieces are systemic. And so to blame her for what these companies are getting away with, to blame her for what our country is allowing to happen is unfair, to once again burden her with that. And so I think that the other important piece too, is to be able to sort of take a step back and to look at these systems and say, “We need to be able to break them down to make real change in order for our hermanas, our sisters, our amigas, all of those people, our coworkers, to be able to make a real difference and to be able to fulfill their promise. 

We need to make sure that everybody is doing their part to break down the current systems that is not set up for us to win. I mean, that’s the reality. They’re working exactly the way they’re supposed to be working and people like you and me are not meant to win in this particular game. And so we need to break that down and to be able to change that. And so for us that are making our way in the world, the trailblazers, the ones that are up in leadership positions, we have a huge responsibility of looking out for those behind us. It’s not enough that we quote unquote made it. I have my degrees, I have my job. I’m good now, I don’t have to worry about anybody else. But rather let’s look at how we are running our own organizations, our own companies. How are we compensating those that are there? 

How are we making sure that those women are able to succeed? They’re having those opportunities? What are we doing to make sure that we are breaking down our own barriers within our country, within our communities, within our workplaces. We also have a responsibility now to be able to create a better future for those Latinas. 

Gladys Godinez: 

Right. Well, Norma, I know you, I’m so grateful for your time. I’ve already… Yeah, thank you so much for putting a little bit of a time in your schedule to share a little bit about you, what you do, your work, your very important work, [foreign language 00:46:02] you are all invited to October 21st Equal Pay Day summit with Justice for Migrant Women, [foreign language 00:46:10] Norma Flores López. We’re so appreciative of you and the work that you continue to do. Thank you again for your time. I appreciate you and Monica también and all of your team.