Three long years ago, in a southwest Texas town now almost synonymous with the tragedy, something happened in an elementary school so horrifying that it nearly defied meaning altogether, challenging any sense of a guiding plan or greater judiciousness in human affairs. Nineteen children. And two teachers. Gone. Uvalde—a place name to be forever followed by a fraught pause.
What was stunning then, and stunning still, was the almost-immediate insistence on meaning from the families who lost their children. Parents, siblings, tíos, and grandparents suddenly coalesced to push for accountability from both school district leaders and the myriad police agencies whose outrageously disorganized response exacerbated the disaster, and to push for gun control measures that could prevent such a threat to other parents’ children in the first place.
Among that coalition of the bereaved was Jesse Rizo, an uncle who lost his niece, 9-year-old Jackie Cazares. Rizo became a regular at local government meetings, exacting in his calls for justice yet calm in his delivery, along with Cazares’ immediate family members and many other leaders. Last May, Rizo was elected to the Uvalde CISD school board, one target of the families’ diverse demands.
Manuel Rizo, Jesse Rizo, Felix Rubio, Kimberly Rubio. Uvalde families gather at the Texas Capitol on November 1, 2022, for a march to the Governor’s Mansion to demand gun control legislation. (Gus Bova)
Still employed as an AT&T customer service technician (the school board position is unpaid), the 54-year-old Rizo grew up in a family of farmworkers in Batesville, some 20 minutes southeast of Uvalde. He left for Austin as a young man, where he graduated from St. Edward’s University, before eventually coming back home.
Three years since the massacre, Rizo sees some positive change: Public officials and school administrators have, for varying reasons, turned over. And he sees family members reengaging with the district. They signed the final beam of a new school building that, in a different location, replaces the shuttered Robb Elementary building where the shooting happened, and Jackie’s older sister Jazmin, for example, recently appeared in a video with the current superintendent. At the same time, Rizo remains outraged that the local district attorney’s prolonged investigation led to only two police officers facing criminal charges for the shooting response, and he eagerly awaits their trials and the further transparency they might bring.
The Observer spoke with Rizo about leadership, anger, and what can still be done.
TO: When did you decide to run for school board and why?
The massacre highlighted a lot of, I call them areas of opportunity, and when it really dawned on me was when we were at one of the meetings at the auditorium. And I’ll never forget going up there, and I was not a public speaker at all. I was kind of intimidated by the thought of even having to do it. But I remember going up there and questioning the board and questioning [former superintendent Hal Harrell], asking him, basically, what are your plans? … And he had this look about him, and I knew right then and there that there were no policies, that there were no procedures in place for anything remotely close to this. Like, man, they don’t have it together. And so that was the first time that I thought, there’s no way that they’re gonna survive this one, that they [the school board] needed the help.
You were part of a group that obviously felt a lot of anger at the school board. But you felt like you wanted to help.
I learned a long time ago that you can’t come with problems without solutions. You have to come to the table with ideas, and so that was part of it.
Man, when I would get up to talk, I would always ask God that he would send the children’s voices through me. In other words, let their words be spoken through me. How would they handle it, right? Then I knew what I needed to say, and a lot of times I didn’t even have notes.
Thinking back, the last year on the board, what’s been the most rewarding thing you’ve been able to do? And what’s been the most frustrating thing?
The most rewarding thing, there’s a multitude of things, but being able to provide a voice for the people that are either afraid or too shy, that want to say things but they just don’t have the courage. And the other part of that, being able to hold each other accountable, and what I mean by that is, the most important thing that you have is the child, right? The children that go to school at all ages. The learning, the safety, being a role model to them, to empower them and to say, you too can speak out.
As far as the challenging part, it’s understanding the language of the school, the acronyms. I understand the philosophy, I understand the methods, but when you get to the nuts and bolts of how things work on a day-to-day basis, that’s a big learning curve. And so how do you tackle that? I’ve been fortunate enough that they’ve asked me to be part of advisory committees. And I go to as many meetings and campuses that I can and I meet with staff and I just sit there and I have lunch with them or I just listen and listen and absorb as much as I can so that when I’m faced with those decision-making things, I’m gonna make a well-educated decision.
A little more big-picture, we’re approaching the three-year mark since the Robb shooting. I know you can’t speak for everybody, but how do you think the families are doing, and how do you think Uvalde as a whole is doing?
As far as the families are concerned, you know, things are still difficult. But I think that we’re trying to make sure that we honor their children, that we honor the teachers, and that we honor the survivors from a school standpoint.
One of the things, I’ll speak to this, man, one of the things where you start seeing the train turn a little, is Felicha Martinez and Abel Lopez [who lost 10-year-old Xavier Lopez], they’ve been volunteering [with a school district food distribution program and Thanksgiving event]. And at the meetings, I’ll never forget, you know, her emotions, especially her, and now several years later she’s giving back to the community, both of them. And if that’s not a testimony of something turning around, I don’t know what is.
You had said at some point, “We used to be a close community. Now it’s like we don’t know each other anymore.” Do you not feel that way anymore?
I think that we’re beginning to rebuild and come back together. And, not too long ago, I kind of analyzed, like, how is it that this is happening? And it took a lot of work. It took a new superintendent. It took a new board. The old chief of police is gone, assistant chief is gone. You have a new city council. You have a new mayor. And everybody, when you go to these meetings, you hear the word transparency, you hear the word accountability, and so everybody’s practicing what they’re preaching, and so we hold each other to that. So it’s mending.
The Robb Elementary memorial in Uvalde in July 2022 (Gus Bova)
In general, what measures of accountability are you still closely watching and waiting for?
The [former UCISD Police Chief Pete] Arredondo and [former UCISD officer Adrian] Gonzales trial that’s coming up—and that the community, just like the rest of the world, sees and acknowledges the absolute failure of the different law enforcement responses. You can only do so much as far as accountability legally. And that is the only two individuals that were charged with anything—[which is] beyond comprehension. I mean, there should have been so many others that were also held accountable, prosecuted. But I’m hoping that these two individuals will be held accountable, whether it’s a prison sentence or some type of discipline.
What happened three years ago really affected, I would say, millions of people, because it was basically one of the worst incidents in modern American history. Is there still anything for people who don’t live there to do to support the families or to support Uvalde as a community?
Definitely. I think exercising something that doesn’t cost any money—and that’s love and compassion. You know, whether it’s through social media or you see them on TV or you run into them anywhere. Just a simple gesture, let the families know that you’re with them and you think about them. To me that’s really important. As far as the gun issue, to me it’s awareness, be aware of your surroundings, be aware of your loved ones, if you see that they’re troubled or whatever don’t just ignore it, don’t let it build up.
You should not allow these kids and the teachers to die in vain. There’s gotta be something that comes out of it. And whether it’s just basic awareness or it mobilizes you or it engages you, you become engaged in some kind of movement, you have to follow your instinct. You have to follow what you think is right, so that somebody else, some other community, some other family member, doesn’t have to go through this. Because it does turn the town inside-out.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
The post Three Years Later, an Uncle in Uvalde Searches for Solutions on School Board appeared first on The Texas Observer.
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