Mayor Zohran Kwame Mamdani: Can we have another round of applause for José? I had never thought about thighs that way. And now I'm going to be thinking about it. ¿Cómo estás, New York? ¡Buenas noches! It is a pleasure to welcome you all here to Gracie Mansion as we celebrate our Hispanic community here in New York. Truly, welcome home.
And I want to acknowledge we have leaders both inside and outside of City government who are here with us. First, you've heard there are many members of our administration who are here. I'm just going to say a sweeping declaration to all the members of the administration that are here. You know them; you love them.
But we also have to give some love for the people that we've already heard from tonight. We have DJ ¡XoloHuizo!. We have Rafaella Abeo. We have the one and only Frankie Miranda. We have Ligia Guallpa. We have our deputy mayor, Helen Arteaga. And the man who reminded us of the beauty of the color of a yellow cab, José Olivarez.
I also want to acknowledge that we have the consul general of Mexico in the building, Marcos Bucio Mújica. And we have a number of elected leaders here. We have our state senator, Gustavo Rivera, in the building. We have Assembly Member Marcela Mitaynes in the building. She's over there. Marcela is the person who asked me, "Do [you] really want to know what Bad Bunny is saying on Callaíta?" I said, "I just want to listen to the song."
We have the Assembly member of the district I used to have the privilege of representing, Diana Moreno. And we have the Assembly member who, rumor has it, might soon be a Congress member, Claire Valdez, also in the building.
So truly, it's a joy because, as you know, there are so many more leaders than the ones that I have named. But it's a joy to have all of you here because what today is about is celebrating this community that has given this city so much and too often has not been recognized for what it has done, for who it has served and for what it has created.
And so, I'll say it out loud because we're all thinking it. For as long as there has been a New York, and even before we called this city what it is now, Hispanic people have arrived on these shores, searching for work, for opportunity and for a better life.
You can even go back to Juan Rodríguez, a trader from Santo Domingo, who came — Santo Domingo is in the house — came to this island as a translator on a Dutch ship in 1613. And when the ship sailed home, he decided to remain. He was the first non-Indigenous resident of what would later become New York City.
In 1868, when the Cuban people rose up against colonial rule, New York became a refuge for those escaping the conflict. They found work alongside Puerto Ricans, rolling cigars in the factories and tenement workshops of Lower Manhattan — made this city their home.
In the 1980s, Salvadorans and Guatemalans arrived here, fleeing civil wars back home. They worked double shifts in kitchens, cleaned office buildings overnight and saved what they could. And we see the fruits of those labors today in bakeries, in churches, in pupuserías from Elmhurst to Woodside.
Hispanic immigrants arrived in our city from every nation. But if I tried to name every nation, I would get accused of doing a terrible Benito halftime show impersonation. So, I'm going to leave it there.
Now, some families did not choose to leave home, but they chose to make New York City their new home, and they chose to stay. Those decisions were rarely easy ones. It took time to settle in, to find a winter coat that would fit, to grow comfortable with familiar dishes cooked with new ingredients, to find a rhythm in a new language, in a new city, in a new country.
And yet the story of Hispanic New Yorkers is also a story of refusing to be daunted by that hardship, of never accepting adverse odds as anything other than something to be overcome. And whether you arrived in this city weeks ago, or your family has lived here for generations, Hispanic New Yorkers keep this city running.
As I speak, a bus driver from Oaxaca is finishing a route on Staten Island. A doctor from Honduras is checking the charts at Woodhull Medical Center in Brooklyn. And a construction worker from Ambato is tuning in to a radio show in Kichwa on his commute home in the Bronx.
But la chamba is not all you bring to this city — it's not. Hispanic New Yorkers help to give our city its flavor, its sound, its very sense of style.
Where else can you savor the aromas of chaufa and champurrado on the same block? Where else can you hear Mixtec and Quechua on the train? Where else can a Dominican barber give a Venezuelan kid a fade, a life lesson and a new accent all in one visit? And this summer, when the World Cup came to our city, the world watched as our city's Hispanic communities came together to celebrate the beautiful game.
In Brooklyn, Panamanians and Colombians packed into living rooms and restaurants to watch their teams play. In Corona, Mexicans and Ecuadorians battled over the right to claim Roosevelt Avenue. It was El Tri vs. La Tri. And moments like these only happen in a city where people have the opportunity to stay long enough to become neighbors.
But we know that that opportunity is under threat for far too many Hispanic New Yorkers today. That is why we are here not only to celebrate this community, but also to commit that we will work every day to ensure that that choice to remain in this city is one that is accorded to all.
That means building a city that, yes, families can afford to stay in. And it also means defending our immigrant New Yorkers by upholding our sanctuary protections, by saying it with pride, ensuring 100 percent compliance of all of those protections, no matter what agency we're speaking of, and keeping our clinics, our schools, our shelters open to everyone, regardless of their immigration status.
And you know that for so many in our administration, this work is deeply personal. You've heard it already in the words that I will have a hard time ever forgetting that our deputy mayor has described what it means to be a Latina woman in leadership. The obstacles that you face, oftentimes ones that are not seen by anyone else but are deeply felt by those having to go through it.
And we know that in each of these commissioners and each of these executive directors, in each of these New Yorkers, there is a story of those who believed in this city's promise, who fought to overcome every obstacle placed in their way and whose children now help to run New York.
And it is the same words we say to them [that] we say to every family who chose this city: Welcome home. This is your home. This is a place that is proud that you have chosen it. It is proud because we can see that legacy in all those that I've named, all those who go beyond.
I look out there [and] I see a few soon-to-be Assembly members in the back. David Orkin, [inaudible], I think I see you there. Who else? Is there somebody else there? Brian Romero. Can't forget Brian Romero.
And what I see in all of that is a commitment that we don't just celebrate our past. We continue to work together to secure that future. And it is a future where Latino New Yorkers know that they can be both of those things.
There is never a tension in the identity of being Hispanic and being a New Yorker. If anything, it is one of the best definitions of what it means to be New York. Truly.
So, I say this as someone who recently started eating pandebono and now have no idea how I'm going to lose weight. It is such a pleasure to welcome you back home. This is your home. We are so proud of you, and we're so happy that you're here. Thank you.
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