By Arlette Dumais
Having lost my Dad, I realize more than ever how important it is to share the stories of my homeland and the proud heritage of our ancestors. We come from a long line of self-determined individuals who survived extreme poverty and political oppression. Our story needs to be told and retold so that this and future generations will know the sacrifices that were made before them, and never take our freedoms for granted.
Portugal, before America
A few years ago, my father confessed that the day I was born was the first and only time he ever stole anything in his life. It was the middle of winter and they had no money for firewood, so he took it from a neighbor’s land in order to keep me and my mother warm. There were tears in his eyes as he shared this story with me shortly before his death.
Back then, Portugal was especially hard for peasant families like us. I never went hungry that I can remember, but my father did, many times. At three he was sleeping in the barn with his four-year-old brother; by six and seven, both were working for a living—loading a donkey with cobblestones for construction crews rebuilding the country’s infrastructure.
The year was 1932 and António Salazar had just come to power. Conditions improved slightly by the 1950s, but as peasants we were still at the bottom of the heap. Corruption was rampant; without jobs, money, or opportunity, the lower classes were trapped in an endless cycle of poverty.
Entrepreneurial spirit
My father set himself up as a shoemaker and my mother started her own chicken farm—with 200 chickens, no less. Rather than wait for customers to come to her, she loaded up our donkey and went to them. She developed a thriving business selling eggs to neighbors and surrounding villages, along with household goods wholesaled from the area’s only store many kilometers away.
As always, I was by my mother’s side—feeding chickens, gathering eggs, loading the donkey, making the rounds. I was just three or four years old when we started. Those memories are priceless, and they taught me many valuable life skills.
An early lesson in confidentiality
One of the most valuable lessons I learned was to never repeat whatever gossip we heard—and we heard plenty. It was a tough lesson for a chatterbox like me, but it has helped me tremendously throughout my life and career, especially with employers and candidates who rely on us to protect their confidence.
My mother was often criticized for “gallivanting” all over town. In Portugal’s class-based system, peasant women were at the bottom of the heap— but my mother always fought it. Today I have a deep appreciation for her extraordinary courage. That’s how I learned to never give up working toward what I believe is right and just, no matter how unpopular.
God Bless America
It wasn’t until we came to America that my mother found a kindred spirit of sorts in the freedoms American women took for granted. “God Bless America” still has deep and personal meaning for her—and for our family.
In spite of tireless efforts, life in the village was harsh: no indoor plumbing or running water, laundry by the river, kerosene lamps, a fireplace for heat and cooking. Ironically, those years were also among the happiest of my life. My parents shielded us from the harsher realities of poverty, and there was always “the village”—a network of extended family and friends ready with a helping hand.
Those roots—hard work, confidentiality, resilience, and putting people first—still shape how Careers Unlimited Insurance serves employers and candidates today.
— Arlette Dumais, Retired