When you enter Mickey Ibarra's White House office, you meet the adviser's namesake — a life-size statue of Mickey Mouse. Ask Ibarra about that name and he'll tell you a tale — a tale that begins with Francisco Ibarra, a Mexican migrant worker of Mouseketeer size whom friends called "Mickey Mouse," and ends with "Mickey Jr." serving as President Clinton's personal adviser.
Along the way, you see Ibarra's father become a miner and later a hairdresser. You meet his hardworking brother David and his teenage mother from St. George.
You meet two sets of Utah foster parents — one white, one brown — and spend some time in a rickety home near I-15 where the wind whistles through the slats.
In all, it is one of the most compelling stories in current American politics, the kind of rags-to-riches history politicians can't buy. It is a story Ibarra may one day ride into national office. Already he's mentioned as a possible secretary of education in a Gore administration, a rumor the Intergovernmental Affairs director downplays but doesn't discourage.
"Right now I'm focused on doing the best job I possibly can," he says. "I have no expectation of being asked to be secretary of education."
As for a running for office, Ibarra says, "Elected office isn't something that motivates me. You have to have that fire in the belly. But I'm not going to say 'never.' "
Ibarra was in Salt Lake City to discuss the 2002 Olympics with local officials and attend an official function. Degrees from Brigham Young University and the University of Utah, along with a stint running the political arm of the National Education Association, have given Ibarra a knack for diplomatic discourse and for striking the right tone on such occasions.
He is a practiced yet personable spokesman. When asked about the push in Utah to name English the official language, for instance, he says, "English is the dominant language and always will be, but I think America will be better served when we raise our aspirations above English. Everyone needs to learn English, yes, but a second language is not a threat."
When asked to name the No. 1 priority for Hispanics today, he says, "The education gap. Until we close the education gap, the Hispanic community will never reach its potential."
Like his boss, Ibarra handles political questions with aplomb but always relishes the personal touch.
"I had a surprise coming off the plane today," he says. "My father was here to greet me. I guess my brother, my father and I will spend some time walking down memory lane this weekend. This is a very different Salt Lake City than the one Francisco Ibarra knew."
The threesome likely won't make it back to the old Monalisa hair salon in Sacramento, but they may make it back to Spanish Fork, where the elder Ibarra picked fruit and young Mickey taught school. They may even go by the home of the late Cecil and Ila Smith, the kindly Utah County couple who took Mickey and brother David in, two folks who "stepped up at just the right time to help two young boys."
And, needless to say, the three will talk a lot of politics.
"The first time I brought my dad to the White House to meet the president and vice president," says Ibarra, "he lost his voice. He couldn't speak."
Telling the story, Mickey Ibarra has trouble speaking. It's a moving story, the kind of story America may hear more and more as he makes his way up the political ladder.
E-mail: jerjohn@desnews.com