Meet our Mid-Valley: Jose Gonzales 'drives' diversity in driver's education
This is part of a weekly series introducing readers to individuals who are passionate about our Mid-Valley community.
Jose Gonzales can point to the case that changed his life.
He was at work as a court interpreter in Salem's municipal court. A “sweet old lady” stood in front of the judge because she was caught driving without a license.
Judge Jane Aiken didn’t want to fine her. Instead, Aiken told the woman to get her license and the citation would be dropped.
But the woman kept failing the test. Even after Aiken gave her another chance, she couldn’t pass. For almost a year, she tried, and failed, to get her license.
Aiken turned to Gonzales.
“Jose, is there anything we can do for her?” Gonzales remembers her asking him. “Do you know of an organization or someone out there who can help these folks that are struggling?”
He didn’t. But, he figured, he could become that person.
A year ago this month, Gonzales opened the doors to Driving Diversity Multilingual Driving School, or Escuela de Manejo (driving school in Spanish) with his wife, Dina. They teach classes in both English and Spanish.
“A lot of these folks haven’t had the same opportunities as far as education,” Gonzales said. “We make it our goal to help them achieve their goal, which is to obtain a driver’s license.”
A clear need
On a recent Tuesday night, the little office building on State Street slowly filled with students. Some had traveled from Portland, Gresham and Beaverton. Others tuned in via Zoom from further pockets of the state.
One couple got bad directions and ended up in Vancouver, Washington. Dina said she didn’t know how that could happen, but she sent them the Zoom link so they could still participate.
Gonzales wasted no time. He started class at 6:02 p.m.
What do you do, he posited, if you arrive at a stop light that is illuminated, but a police officer is guiding traffic at the intersection? Who do you obey, the light or the officer?
The police, students offered.
They were right, and it’s a question they might see on the licensing exam.
Gonzales is quick but clear in his instruction. He repeats himself often and offers call-and-response style questions about the lesson. Every lesson, he said, is something they might see on the test.
Students continued to file in, to the office and via Zoom, until roughly 7 p.m. At 6:40, Dina took a call from a woman in Portland asking if she could join the class.
The next session will be Sept. 19, Dina told the woman, but if she paid now, she could join this class on Zoom and watch the recording to see what she missed.
Twenty minutes later, the caller was tuned in. She couldn’t wait a month.
Dina said she gets calls not just from across the state, but from across the country. She’s gotten calls from Texas, New York, California and New Mexico.
Classes were full as soon as they were offered, Gonzales said. The need was immediately clear.
The school has already outgrown its office on State Street. Next month, Gonzales will begin teaching from a bigger office on Lancaster Drive.
"This is an area where my community is underserved," Gonzales said.
Navigating the roadblocks
Gonzales is only certified to teach in Oregon. He and Dina can’t help the out-of-state callers. But he said he hopes to help as many Oregonians as he can, for as long as he can.
It pays off every time a student comes into the office to show off their new license, he said.
Some of his clients are farmworkers who need to be able to drive to different work sites (Gonzales is working on a certification that would allow him to set up satellite classrooms at work camps across the state). Others have taken the test a dozen times and failed. Others still are teenagers whose parents want lower insurance premiums and safer kids — Gonzales is also certified to provide behind-the-wheel instruction.
Obtaining a driver’s license wasn’t an option for some of Gonzales’ clients until last year. The Oregon Legislature voted in 2019 to allow people without legal documentation of residence to apply for a license.
The law took effect in January 2021. Gonzales opened his school eight months later. The time was right, he said.
“I’ve seen over and over again how many families that work hard for their money end up paying so much in fines [for driving without a license],” Gonzales said. “It hurt me because they didn’t have a choice. When the law changed, I thought ‘Ok, this is it. This is an opportunity for me to do something, to give back to my community.’”
Once they’ve paid the fee — $175 — students have access to the school and its resources, including a practice test, for as long as it takes.
His clients have faced all sorts of barriers to obtaining their license, Gonzales said. Of course, language is a big one.
Gonzales is one of two schools in the area to offer driving courses in Spanish. The other is in Woodburn.
The test questions can also differ from what’s on the study guides, Gonzales said.
“People can memorize, but then they get to the exam and the questions aren’t the same,” he said. “I want them to understand the concepts.”
Technology is another barrier. The clients that travel long distances for class do so because they don’t know how to use Zoom, Dina said. Once they get to the DMV, some folks are intimidated by having to take the test on a computer.
“Technology produces so much anxiety and stress in them,” Gonzales said.
In those cases, Gonzales said the school will write a formal letter to the DMV recommending they take the test on paper.
Normalizing driver's education
Gonzales is also trying to normalize driver’s education in his community, he said, especially for teens.
“When you turn 15 or 16, your parents start thinking about driver’s ed,” he said. “It doesn’t happen with us. I’m trying to change that.”
Formal instruction, as opposed to, say, learning from a family member, can lower the chances of a serious accident, Gonzales said. (The data are conflicted here. Some studies have found no significant correlation between driver’s ed and crashes; others have found the opposite, especially among teens).
“We have all these hopes and dreams for our children,” Gonzales said. "They turn 15, 16, 17, we send them out into the world to try and chase down their dreams, and many times they don’t come back because that very important part of their education is missing. They never really learned how to drive.”
It’s a cultural battle. Gonzales said he is fighting it “one family at a time.”
A family operation
Gonzales and Dina were both born in Mexicali, just across the Mexican border in Baja, California. Gonzales was a “border boy,” he said, but grew up mostly on U.S. soil in Calexico (Mexicali’s U.S. opposite).
Dina moved to the United States as a young girl. The pair met when they were 21 and married in 1997.
Gonzales has lived several lives: as a preacher (a hat he still wears), a realtor, a loan officer and a school district employee.
He and Dina moved to Salem in 2000. They tried other homes: Phoenix, Texas, Washington. Oregon was their favorite.
“Folks really treated us well here,” Gonzales said. “Salem embraced us.”
They raised two daughters, now both teenagers, in Salem. Their dad taught them to drive. They were part of his first class.
“Treat me like a student,” 17-year-old Carmesi remembered telling her dad.
She meant that with students, Gonzales is patient and professional behind the wheel. With her, he was protective and maybe a little short. Still, she was grateful for his instruction.
His daughters were a big motivation for starting the school in the first place, Gonzales said. Now, it’s a “family operation.”
The driving school is one of several ventures under the Gonzales’ parent company, Escritorio Publico (public desk), named for people who would set up desks and typewriters in public spaces in Mexico and sell writing services. Gonzales is also a notary, a letter writer, and, still, a court interpreter. He’s also still a minister.
When asked whether her husband has any free time, Dina’s eyes widened.
Not really, Gonzales said. But he loves being busy.
“At the end of the day, I’m extremely, extremely tired,” Gonzales said. “But I sleep well [with] the sense of satisfaction that you feel from knowing that you changed lives in a positive way.”
You can reach Escuela de Manejo online, by email or by phone at 503-877-8345. Classes are offered twice per month and meet for three nights, two hours each.
If you have an idea for someone we should profile for this series, please email Statesman Journal senior news editor Alia Beard Rau at arau@gannett.com
Shannon Sollitt covers agricultural workers in the Mid-Willamette Valley as a corps member for Report for America, a program that aims to support local journalism and democracy by reporting on under-covered issues and communities. You may reach her at ssollitt@statesmanjournal.com.
This article originally appeared on Salem Statesman Journal: Jose Gonzales 'drives' diversity in driver's education
