It wasn’t until she turned five years old that Josefina Dueñas was diagnosed with a disorder her family had long suspected: hipoacusia bilateral, or severe hearing loss that affected both of her ears.
Almost 60 years later, as Dueñas walked into Ukiah’s city hall, located in northern California’s Mendocino county, she recounted her childhood memories and the years that trained her to overcome the many challenges that still arise due to her hearing disability.
“Here, I represent the women, the immigrants, the disabled, the homeless,” said Dueñas, who at the age of 64 became the first deaf Latina mayor in California.
Alongside the six council members in Ukiah, the mayor represents the interests of more than 16,000 people, most of whom identify as Latino or white, according to US census data.
Council members are elected for a four-year term by the voters while the mayor is appointed every year on a rotational basis by the council.
Long before Dueñas could serve as the mayor of Ukiah, she studied psychology at the Benemérita Universidad Autónoma de Puebla in Mexico and worked for the state secretary of finance reviewing tax documents. She had started wearing earbuds and communicating in sign language.
While Dueñas seemed to grow professionally, the situation at home was increasingly alarming.
Fearing the threat of domestic violence against her and her children, Dueñas migrated to California. She arrived in Ukiah in 1989 and soon worked in the fields along the busy Highway 101 corridor, picking grapes and contributing to the success of local vineyards, one of Ukiah’s main attractions today.
“I remained undocumented until 1999, when I suffered domestic violence at the hands of my second husband,” Dueñas said on a recent afternoon, inside Ukiah’s city hall.
With the passage of the Violence Against Women Act, also known as Vawa, in Congress in 1994, immigrants who have been abused by a US citizen can seek legal protection in the country.
Federal law also prohibits discrimination based on disability in immigration proceedings.
Dueñas said she was granted permanent status thanks to the Vawa program in 2000 and granted US citizenship 17 years later.
By then, she had obtained a bachelor’s degree at Sonoma State University and other associate diplomas, worked as a teacher’s assistant at the Ukiah Unified school district and wrote occasionally for bilingual newspapers. But she struggled to make ends meet.
“The monthly cost for my electricity bill was $750, the same amount I paid for rent,” said Dueñas, who moved around and even lived in her car for some time, unable to afford rent.
“I decided to go to an open city council meeting and protest. I thanked them for what they were doing for us, but I told them it wasn’t enough. Then I said to myself that I could be there and do something different.”
Dueñas ran for a seat in the city council in 2020 and won. When it was her turn to be appointed as mayor, following the stipulated rotation, some of the council members voiced concerns about challenges Dueñas might face in the new role.
Just as civil rights laws prohibit discrimination on the basis of race, color, sex, nationality and religion, the Americans with Disabilities Act, known as ADA, guarantees that people with disabilities have the same opportunities as everyone else nationwide.
In the US, about 17.7 million adults have a hearing disability. Nearly 2 million of them live in California. The deaf access program was created in 1980 to ensure that state programs are adapted for people who are deaf and hard of hearing. As of today, the program serves approximately 64,647 adults. Dueñas is one of them.
Amid opposition to her appointment, Dueñas remained as vice-mayor for a second year through December of 2023, when she was confirmed as the mayor. Two members voted against her appointment.
On the eve of Dueñas’s appointment, a local report quoted Mari Rodin, the outgoing mayor, saying: “I wouldn’t vote for Dueñas to be the mayor simply to add diversity, equity or inclusion; that goes against my principles. I need to adhere to my role as city council member, which is to support a mayoral candidate who meets the qualifications necessary to perform as the mayor.”
Rodin declined to be interviewed for this story, saying her previous comment was the most diplomatic thing she felt comfortable saying.
Douglas Crane, who is serving his 20th year on the city council, including four terms as the mayor, said he supported Dueñas’ appointment because “it made sense that she had the turn and that she could do this”.
Crane was adamant that while he had assisted Dueñas, she already had methods to help her conduct meetings and address public concerns. “I want to be clear that I didn’t teach her the process, I was reviewing it with her. I don’t want to take anything away from her ability or knowledge. It was an effort to be helpful for her to be more confident with things that she largely already knew.”
To facilitate conducting the meetings, Dueñas said, she was given an iPad by the city. The iPad has software that transcribes what she says, as well as what others say, in real time.
Though her current term is near its end, Dueñas has balanced her responsibilities as a mayor with once again running for one of two seats available on the city council.
On a recent afternoon, Dueñas tested the software on her iPad, which didn’t transcribe as quickly as she spoke. The hindrance, she said, could have been a problem in meetings when she was mayor, wounding her confidence and testing the patience of other council members.
Minutes before 7.30pm, the deadline for her and the other candidates to answer questions from residents at a forum, Dueñas stepped aside to a quiet area and closed her eyes.
There were no lips to read; only words and scenes that she found solace in.
“I thought about the people that let me stay in their homes when my kids and I had nowhere to go in Ukiah. They told me ‘Josefina, you could do it.’ And look at me, I am here. What were my chances?”
