Neighborhood faces profile: Juan Ortiz (FINAL)

Around 3:30 p.m., a man walks into the Williamsburg Community Center accompanied by many happy-spirited children, who he had just picked up from school. On the surface, he seems like the typical citizen of the community, whose desk is strewn with toys and other tokens of appreciation.

There is, however, another side to this man, Juan Ortiz, that most would not suspect unless they glanced upon his wooden shelves which hold the remnants of his past as a community activist and organizer in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

In one frame is a certificate acknowledging his completion of The Dynamics Of Community Activism, which he received in 1978 from Columbia University. In another is a certificate he received in 1981 from the New York Law School for criminal procedure law. His wife Franchesca was a law student at the time and insisted that he learned criminal law, something he himself grew more interested in. “Law can be manipulated but not justice,” he explained.

He spoke about the crack epidemic of the 1980s and 1990s and even referred to the neighborhood as having once been a “warehouse of crack.” “I have seen this neighborhood kill people and also give birth to people,” Ortiz said.

Around that time, Dominicans and Puerto Ricans were struggling to stay in the area, although they were being pushed out. He sympathized with this community, as a Dominican and Puerto Rican himself, born in the town of Isabella, Puerto Rico.

Ortiz not only shared their nationality, but also understood their needs and addressed them as the treasurer of the South Side United Housing Fund Development; a position he held for 10 years.The corporation would purchase buildings – from the city for just a few dollars in what was deemed “symbolic purchases” – and fix them up, so people could move into them. The tenants of each building collectively owned it and were part of an organization that met monthly.

Upon one of his shelves was a trophy he received in 1990, from the Somos Uno Conference, which he received for his “selfless commitment to the labor movement.” With a smile on his face, and an occasional laugh, Ortiz reminisced on how it happened.

“Some people use the word everybody, but they do not include everyone often times.” He continued with an analogy: “When they sit at the table to cut the pie, we do not get a crumb.”

By “we”, he meant the Puerto Ricans and Dominicans in the area, and on a larger scale, the Latino Community. Before taking an initiative, Ortiz went about figuring out the needs of the community: jobs, health, food, shelter; pretty universal needs he acknowledged.

He was one of many who wanted to mobilize and travel to Albany, to present their needs to the Assembly. But in politics, you need numbers, Ortiz explained.

They had Machito, a Cuban band leader, perform that day, confident it would attract many attendees and in fact it did. Blacks, Whites, and Latinos were in attendance and they spontaneously began chanting: Somos Uno, Somos Uno! (We are one!) If there was a recording of that day, it would not do any justice to what had transpired, Ortiz explained. From that point on, the annual conference was called the Somos Unos Conference.

Ortiz moved on to the next “chapter” of his life speaking about his involvement in two campaigns. The first was David Dinkins’ campaign. “I wanted to be part of that!” He wanted to contribute to making history by helping get the first African American elected as mayor of New York City. Dinkin was elected and served from 1990 -1993.

Ortiz was also part of the campaign that helped Congresswoman Nydia Velazquez (who presides over Williamsburg, Greenpoint, and Bushwick) get elected.

Ortiz moved on to his current work; his role at the Williamsburg Community Center located on 95 Graham Avenue. By choice, he does not go by a title there. “I do whatever needs to be done,” he said. Some of his roles are the fitness instructor, counselor, cook, gardener, cleaner, and so on.

The center offers children help with their homework, the opportunity to learn chess and boxing, among many activities that Ortiz and others teach them. Teenagers and young adults go there three hours a day for counseling, fitness, or sports, and other things. “You can come here and be safe,” Ortiz said.

Upon learning of his accomplishments, many people wonder why Ortiz has made the center his second home, he explained, as if to imply they deem it beneath him. Unlike the rest of his successes, he explained, “You can not document the things I do here.”

“People get caught up in titles […] wanting to sell themselves.” He explained that despite titles, we are all humans. He added, “You are not a tabloid in life!”

Ortiz is fulfilled by his role in the free community center, where the children cultivate crops – like tomatoes, cucumbers, jalapenos, cilantro, and grapes – in the garden with him and learned how to cook over the summer with Rachel Ray.

You should not measure one’s success by what they have, he explained. Out of all the memorabilia documenting his successes, he handed over a certificate whose value is priceless. With a smile on his face he said,”This one means the most to me […] This is my daughter’s perfect attendance award!”

As a father of four and grandfather of two, it is things like that which give Ortiz pride and he treats all the children at the center as if they are his own. “This is the most rewarding job in the world. You are building the future.”

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