This mother has taught her daughters, Rubi and Hannah (now they are 16 and 14 years old), the importance of helping the community. They have seen her at political events and protests.
It was the saddest day of her life.
On February 2, 2019, Angie M. Jiménez‘s father had died. With all the strength and humanity she possessed, she took care of all the arrangements. She endured the mourning, bore the pain of the entire family, and carried it all. But then, after the ceremonies for her father, Miguel Jiménez, ended, she began her own mourning. She lay in bed, grieving, not wanting to do anything.
This Montebello councilwoman is also a marathon runner, but she didn’t want to get out of bed.
“Then in a dream, I saw him sitting at the foot of my bed, pulling my feet, saying, ‘Come on! Get up!’ I opened my eyes and didn’t see him. But that gave me the strength to get up and go running in Palos Verdes with my club. It was raining. I started running, and under the rain, I let go of all that pain, those things that bothered or troubled me in my life. I let it all out, with each step, under the rain,” she says.
Angie had always been daddy’s girl. Since she was little, she would joke around, confront him, love him, and admired him. From him, she learned music, singing, and the strength that has now made her one of the most important Latina politicians in California.
“My memories go back to when I was three years old. I always protested if I thought something was unjust. I protected my sisters. If my dad wanted to punish us for a mischief we did, I would take the blame, saying, ‘It was me, hit me,'” she says.
Her admiration for her father was so strong that she still has a scar near her mouth from trying to imitate him shaving.
Her father was her idol; she would stick to him and go wherever he went, watching him shave with awe and pride. He was her daddy, the accountant who, one day, along with her mother Amelia, came to the United States, where she was born.
“We always joked, saying I was smuggled in, hidding in my mom’s womb,” she says.
Her dad would jokingly repeat that she was very bossy. But he also insisted to her and her sisters that they should never let themselves be treated unfairly or tolerate any injustice. Another characteristic that is now part of her personality
Daddy’s girl: Her father was her idol; she would stick to him and go wherever he went, watching him shave with awe and pride. In the photo, her dad carries her, alongside her mom Amelia and her sister Janet.
She has never been ‘spoiled.’ Since she was a child, if something was wrong, if she was angry about any injustice but couldn’t fix it, she would sing. One of her favorite singers and songs as a child, which made her family tease her, was Cepillín, a famous Mexican children’s singer, and she would sing the song, ‘En el bosque de la China.’ She sung it while we were on the phone, … “In a forest in China, the little Chinese girl got lost. Since I was lost, we found each other. In a forest in China, the little Chinese girl got lost. Since I was lost, we found each other…”
Today, she still holds that fascination for singing; when she runs, she often sings, it empowers and gives her strength. Her favorite song is “Busco-Me,” and she resumes the lyrics on the phone, with a voice many professional singers would envy- “One day I will learn why some things are/ I try to learn how my heart walks/ I rush, I leap into the void/ Then I fall down out of fear, but I keep searching/ I search for myself, I search for myself… And I don’t stop searching for myself more/ And I go around and think non-stop/ And I look in the mirror slowly/ I analyze myself and get angry with myself again…”
And without a doubt, Angie has been searching for herself all her life, but always with her eyes open.
After a brief stay in Guadalajara, where the family had returned because her father had found a job, they returned to California, where she continued her studies.
“It was difficult to leave Guadalajara. I still remember that my family had some piglets. I was the one who fed them, earning a few pesos and saving them. But in December, when they killed them, it was painful. I remember the smell of chicharrón, of carnitas… but when I knew it was the smell of the piglets I had been feeding and caring for, it broke my heart. Even today, I don’t eat pork,” she says.
She returned to the U.S. and attended Montebello Unified School District schools. She graduated from Bell Gardens High School; it was difficult, there were no bilingual teachers, and she still remembers when she and her sisters, scared, would listened to the teacher ask for their names… “What’s your name?”… And they just looked at the teacher, not knowing what she was saying.
She learned English quickly; she couldn’t be left behind. Her method for learning English? Music.
“I learned songs in English, repeated them until I could memorize and express them well. It was music that helped me,” she says.
When she runs, she often sings, empowering and strengthening herself. Her favorite song is “Busco-Me,”: One day I will learn why some things are/ I try to learn how my heart walks/ I rush, I leap into the void/ Then I fall down out of fear, but I keep searching/ I search for myself, I search for myself…
In high school, she opened another battle front. She didn’t like how the newly arrived students from Mexico were treated.
“Those born here made fun of them, calling them ‘wet back, go back to Mexico.’ And where they gathered, they called it ‘Little Tijuana.’ I couldn’t stand it; I knew how they felt because I had lived through some of their experiences,” she adds.
And of course, her best friends were these newly arrived students. And again, that little girl who couldn’t tolerate injustices came out.
“I’m not a fighter, but I can defend myself. One day I was walking with them, and the ‘pochos’ made fun of them. I was carrying a bag; I grabbed it and hit them with it, ‘Don’t make fun of them,'” she laughs, remembering.
She was a popular student with good grades, a member of the cheerleader team… “My brothers say I was very ‘noviera’. But it wasn’t true. Yes, the most popular boys followed me, courted me, asked me to be their girlfriend. I didn’t care for it, but I felt embarrassed for rejecting them. I accepted some for those reasons,” she laughs. “You know? That’s when I realized that I’m attracted to intelligent people. After the most famous boy on the basketball team courted me, I ended up with one of the ‘nerdy’ students. Tall, thin, with a big nose. My friends would say, ‘What happened there?’ My mom was also surprised,” she says.
In high school, her passion for political participation began. She ran for the Student Board in… THE JUSTICE COMMISSION. Where else? Justice was her passion.
Always with the people. Angie has been arrested in several acts of civil disobedience.
After graduating from high school and starting her college studies, she met the man who would become the father of her two daughters, Gil Cedillo Jr. His father, Gil Cedillo, would become one of the most well-known Latino politicians in those years.
“When I married Cedillo Jr., his father hadn’t yet reached the status he would later have. My then husband’s mother (Angie is now divorced) fell ill with cancer, and I stopped everything. There were no trained nurses to care for her. I took charge, moved into her house, and stayed with her for about a year and a half. I never questioned it or regretted it. It was my duty; it was what I had to do at that moment,” she says.
There she met and interacted with many politicians who came and went. She remembers now-councilman Kevin de León; Cedillo was his mentor and frequently knocked on the door.
And then, the then-mayor of Los Angeles, Antonio Villaraigosa, invited her to join his team.
“I didn’t ask for permission, I didn’t notify anyone. It was a job offer. I knew my father-in-law and Villaraigosa didn’t have the best relationship, but I decided to take my path. In my political and personal career, many people come up to me and say, ‘You should have told us.’ And I tell them, ‘What should I have said?’ and they say-‘That You are a Cedillo.’ I would do the oposit and say I wasn’t a Cedillo. In fact, when I started running for public office, I kept the Jiménez name. My father was super proud of me,” she says.
Since then, her life hasn’t stopped, just like when she starts her marathon runs.
“You have to set a goal, reach it, and get there whole,” she says.
Besides being a councilwoman in Montebello, she collaborates and works with numerous organizations. Many political candidates call her for support. She participates with hotel unions in acts of civil disobedience. She has been arrested numerous times for her participation.
“In one of my jobs, at Hollywood Forever, they ask me, ‘Angie, we have this event, do you think you won’t be arrested that day?’ And she laughs.
In Montebello, the homeless problem is very personal. Her sister Janet had a relapse and fell into depression. Angie understands the problems people face on the streets. “For me, this is personal,” she says.
“Now I focus a lot on people who haven’t had the same opportunities I had. I have the opportunity to contribute to making changes in society,” she says.
And her dad was right when he used to tell her, “¿Quién es la más mendiga?” (Who’s the toughest one?)
But with a big heart and humility.
“I think we must understand other people, be humble, but defend against injustices,” she says.
That little girl standing in front of her father saying, “Hit me instead” is now standing, defending a community.
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