Two men are picketing outdoors in front of a gray metal building. A man on the left, wearing a blue shirt and a striped tie, holds a sign that says "10 ROADS TEAMSTERS ULP STRIKE." A second man, whose back is to the camera, holds a similar sign. — Tampa City Councilman Luis Viera talks to workers outside 10 Roads Express in Tampa, Florida on Feb. 28, 2025. Credit: Photo by Dave Decker / Creative Loafing Tampa Bay

I have always been proud to be Latino. With us being in the midst of Hispanic Heritage Month, I wanted to write a preface to this month with my Top 10 reasons why I love the Latino character.

First, family means everything to Latinos. We call our parents every day—anything else is unacceptable. We live near and show up for family. When one of us is at the hospital, we all go: We sit in the lobby, stare and wait. Children are gifts from God to be overwhelmed with affection; parents are treasures to be revered; and deceased abuelos and abuelas who we have loving memories of reside in our sentimental hearts. When we talk to one another about a beloved departed family member, there is reverence, longing and gentle spirituality assumed.

Second, we spiritually internalize family journeys. The journey of Venezuelan, Cuban or Nicaraguan refugees fleeing Communism is sacred. The Mexican-American or Colombian-American seeking opportunity—or Puerto Rican family with pride in photographs of Abuelo in the Borinqueneer 65th regiment in Korea—is a blessing.

Third, we are patriotic. My friend Jose Valiente celebrates two birthdays: the day he was born and the day his family came to the United States from Communist Cuba. This is a patriotism of the heart, not always language. My late maternal Grandfather, Modesto “Api” Suarez came here at age 40 as a Cuban refugee and never mastered English. Api taught me more about patriotism and American culture in Spanish than anyone did in English. Api was my hero as a kid and is my hero today. When you have to dial 1 for English, remember Api.

Fourth, we are passionate. This is big. Think Andy Garcia glare big. We are passionate about worldviews, romance and conversations. Latino passion is urgency, not anger. Like a biblical Prophet with a Divine edict he must reveal, Latino passion has urgency. It is an urgency to share what is in our heart. Love for a woman can be urgent (our love letters are long and emotional). We are not detached or emotionless. We find it hard to hold sentiments in—we do not keep stuff in the basement.

Fifth, we hug and physically embrace. A sterile handshake is an insult to the affection we have for a friend or a bond shared.

Sixth, we have faith in God. The Latino journey includes the refugee, the demonized migrant and the farm laborer. Most are led in this journey by Jesus Christ (not all—there are proud Jewbans, for example). Our Jesus is with los balseros Cubans on a raft; He was with abuela when she was mocked as a teenager for her broken English; He is with the Spanish Harlem garment worker; He is with the Latina housekeeper whose boss never paid into Social Security; and He was with Dolores Huerta. And for those who do not believe in God, God believes in us and stands ready to welcome us back into the Latino God fold.

Seventh, we have romantic, intense and passionate music. There is the one-two punch soundtrack of my youth, Julio Iglesias and Hansel y Raul. Think Chavela Vargas, Antonio Carlos Jobim, Orquesta Aragon, Tito Puente, Celia Cruz, Ernesto Lecuona and Astrud Gilberto. Listen to Eydie Gorme and Los Panchos sing “Nosotros”—if there is a better song, I do not want to know about it.

Eighth, we helped build Tampa and make Tampa awesome. Watch television’s most unintentionally entertaining variety show, Tampa City Council, and you will see the kind and sentimental stylings of Latino Guido Maniscalco and the Cuban macho man only occasionally tamed by age, Charlie Miranda. Tampa Latino names and institutions include Lt. Baldomero Lopez, Judge Virginia Covington, Tony Garcia Jr., Francisco Rodriguez, La Gaceta, Marti-Maceo, the Gonzmart family, Governor Bob Martinez, Judge Dennis Alvarez, Col. Orlando Rodriguez, Julianne Holt, Roberto Pizano and Tampa’s Mr. Latino and patron saint of Latino lawyers, Judge EJ Salcines. And there are the Latino “hands that built Tampa” whose names are not collectively acknowledged, but who live in the hearts of Tampeno families. The Tampa Latino bus driver or teacher’s aide who is now an aging parent and raised a family is a giant in their adult son or daughter’s life and memory.

Ninth, we work hard. Do not let the bigots fool you: Latinos come here to work. My paternal grandfather, Juan Viera, saw his business—built by his once impoverished hands—taken by Fidel Castro. He would come to the United States with his family and worked harder. So did his sons. I work hard as a lawyer and public servant—I work like an immigrant. I do this because nothing is more Latino than to work hard. Anyone who says otherwise can go to hell.

And 10th, our men cry. Some say crying is a sign of weakness. Tearing up can be as masculine as arm wrestling to Latino men. Crying can be a sign of principle, love and devotion. I tear up at least once a week—and I would have it no other way.

I cried writing this column.

Be proud of your Latino gifts. Family gatherings should be loud and your heart revealed. Passion is no vice and rejecting your blood is no virtue. West Tampa, Town & Country and Wimauma got it going on. On matters of the heart, never compromise your Latino spirit to become an Inanimate Carbon Rod. Love that spirit—get teary eyed over it and embrace how God made you.

Special thanks to my sentimental Latino son, Luis Viera II, who helped me create this list.

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This article appears in Sept. 25 – Oct. 1, 2025.