Justice Center Bids and Blowback: What Happened When I Spoke to LULAC Again

Let’s get one thing straight right out of the gate – Sonny Subia is the heart and soul of LULAC here in Weld County. He’s the guy who keeps the engine running, the calendar full, and the conversations going. He’s also, let’s be honest, a little politically misguided (IMHO, of course), but hey, nobody’s perfect. I like Sonny. He’s a genuinely good dude with a genuine love for his community. That goes a long way in today’s world.

Now, for the second time in my 6½ years as a Weld County Commissioner, Sonny invited me to speak at LULAC’s monthly lunch. And no, I’m not on some personal mission to crash liberal luncheons or rack up frequent flyer miles in echo chambers that don’t match my voter registration. But if you want to really serve the people – all the people – you’ve got to be willing to walk into the lion’s den every now and then.

In this case, that lion’s den was Alberto’s restaurant on a Friday afternoon, where I delivered what I’ll generously call a “death by PowerPoint” presentation on Weld County facts and figures. The enchiladas were hot, the reception was… lukewarm. A few folks were stone-faced and clearly not there to hear about line-item budgets or drainage district statistics. What they wanted – the real meat of the meeting – was to talk about the Weld County Justice Center and our decision to keep it downtown.

And to their credit, the crowd didn’t storm the buffet table in protest. The consensus was that keeping the Justice Center downtown is good for “the community.” I’m assuming that was shorthand for the Hispanic community, but I’d argue it’s good for the entire community. A downtown Justice Center keeps services accessible, maintains foot traffic in the city core, and signals that justice isn’t just something you build out on the fringe.

Then Sonny hit me with the $64 million question, or in this case, the $490 million one: What is the county going to do to make sure Latino contractors get a piece of the work?

A fair question. Here’s the answer: The county has strict bidding processes codified in our ordinances. This project is going to be massive – national-level contractors will be submitting proposals. Our job is to follow our code, select the most qualified contractor, and get the work done right for the taxpayers.

But Sonny wasn’t just talking qualifications. He asked – point blank – if we were going to choose a Latino contractor. I asked him back: “Do you want us to choose a contractor based on the color of their skin?” His response? “We’ll talk.”

Well, I’ll save us both the follow-up. There is no talking when it comes to bending our code. Weld County has a process, and we will follow it. Period.

Then came a question about a “Community Benefits Agreement,” which sounded suspiciously like a polite euphemism for what I can only describe as an institutionalized kickback scheme for special interest groups. I looked it up. I still don’t like it. I’m one of five commissioners, but I’ll fight hard against anything that tries to hand out taxpayer dollars based on who screams the loudest or checks the right demographic box.

Let me be clear: I understand – to the best of my ability – the real racism that minorities, including Latinos, have experienced in Weld County. It’s not some fantasy cooked up on social media; it’s lived experience for many of our residents. But the solution to racism is not more racism. You don’t fight discrimination by institutionalizing a new version of it. Selecting a contractor because they’re Latino instead of because they’re the best for the job? That’s discrimination, plain and simple. Or as my granddad used to say, “Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

Despite the disagreements, I left the meeting with more hope than frustration. I heard real concerns – about gentrification, affordability, and the cost of simply living in Weld County and across Colorado. These are not partisan problems. They’re people problems.

We talked about possible workforce development programs to help get more folks – Latino and otherwise – into trades and skilled jobs. That’s the kind of forward-thinking solution I can get behind. No quotas, no box-checking. Just opportunity. Equal opportunity.

Before I left, I told Sonny I’d be back at the next LULAC meeting in September – not to talk, but to listen. Because that’s where real progress begins. Not in shouting matches. Not in check-the-box politics. But in honest conversations between people who aren’t as far apart as the headlines make them seem.

Sonny, keep that seat open. I’ll see you in September.