We’re often taught that history is the exclusive domain of the elite few. But oral histories, once regarded as secondary to written archives, offer something that traditional narratives often lack: “They have the potential of unearthing new truths about our collective past that have been overlooked,” said Socorro Romo, executive director of West Marin Community Services.
Ms. Romo, who moved to West Marin at the age of 22 from the Mexican state of Jalisco, is part of a new collaboration between the Point Reyes Light and the Jack Mason Museum of West Marin History. The partnership aims to fill gaps in local historical records by documenting the lives of Mexican immigrants on the coast.
With $10,000 in matching funds from the county’s Nonprofit Community Partners program, the newspaper and the museum will embark on a yearlong oral history project that will preserve the stories of Mexican immigrants who began arriving in the area in the 1970s. Ms. Romo was an inspiration for the project, said organizer Tess Elliott, editor and co-publisher of the Light.
The museum will house the project’s resulting archive, marking a significant step toward making its collection more diverse and equitable. The Light will broaden its coverage by publishing short narratives extracted from the histories, enriching the community’s appreciation of its heritage. The Inverness Association, which oversees the museum, is sponsoring the project.
“Our history column in particular stood out to me as a place where we can expand our collective sense of identity,” Ms. Elliott said. “Latino history is a big part of West Marin’s history of the last 50 years. But people feel unseen and unrecognized.”
When Ms. Romo arrived in West Marin in 1981, she noticed that Latinos were largely invisible, and were primarily confined to farm work.
“Latino people were hidden,” she said. “They only worked on farms. They didn’t work in stores or in hospitality.”
Moving to the area to be near her siblings who worked on a local ranch, Ms. Romo found employment at Johnson’s Oyster Farm. Despite their contributions, Latinos have been consistently excluded from the dominant narrative, she said.
“We always give credit to those in power and ignore the workforce behind it. When I go to exhibits or watch documentaries about the area, I don’t see any brown faces,” Ms. Romo said.
She reflected on the reasons. “Is it that Latinos don’t want to be seen?” she asked. “Or is it that certain groups are reluctant to give credit to the contributions made by those they perceive as ‘the wrong people’? Or could it be that the creators of these exhibits and documentaries still fail to recognize the profound impact this group has had on the region?”
Ms. Romo shared similar thoughts in past conversations with Ms. Elliott, who applied for a grant for the project last winter. The funding will pay interviewers and interviewees and will be used to purchase recording equipment and to transcribe, translate and archive the work. Ms. Elliott envisions the project as ongoing.
Along with Socorro, Lourdes Romo, executive director of Papermill Creek Children’s Corner, will participate as an interviewer.
Lourdes, who is not related to Socorro, moved to West Marin from Jalostotitlán, a small town in the northeast corner of Jalisco, at age 10. She grew up on B Ranch in the Point Reyes National Seashore, where her father worked as a dairy farmer. Lourdes said she has been keenly aware of the absence of stories like hers in local narratives.
“Nothing has changed since I was growing up,” she said. “We’re still not represented in the history of this town.”
Lourdes said the Latino story is not marginal, but rather inextricable from the history of West Marin.
“There’s a lot of work to be done,” she said. “Though there have been small increases in representation, I feel like it’s not enough.”
Ms. Elliott is working with historian Dewey Livingston, a member of the museum’s board, to train the team, which also includes Claudia Gonzalez and Alex Porrata. Mr. Livingston has run a history column in the Light for decades and also wants to see it expanded.
Building cross-generational connections and fostering a culture of storytelling are additional goals of the project, Mr. Livingston said.
“I believe that when people work within their own community, they not only gain a deeper understanding of where they come from but also make meaningful contributions,” he said. “This fosters a sense of ownership and pride, unlike when outsiders come in, which can sometimes feel almost extractive.”
Mr. Livingston noted that although oral history often adheres to formal and structured methodologies, he prefers a more conversational approach. “Just set out a recorder and keep it really informal,” he said.
“It is really something to go into somebody’s kitchen and ask them about their family, their history, their secrets, what they did as a kid—what life was like,” he added.
Lourdes agreed, noting that past projects have often failed due to a lack of trust and communication.
“I’m not going to open the door to anybody I don’t trust,” she said. “You have to build those relationships and earn that trust. I think that’s a component that has been missing from past projects.”
As Ms. Elliott put it, “The time is ripe.” The uncertain future of the ranches and dairies in the Point Reyes National Seashore leaves many workers’ livelihoods and homes hanging in the balance. Many of them are descendants of immigrants who arrived in West Marin decades ago.
“We want to capture their stories,” she said. “We want their children and grandchildren to hear those stories and feel a sense of pride and inclusion in the official narrative of this place. And we want the discussions around Point Reyes and its future to include the human element, the human stories, the human presence and homes that have long been in the park.”