Where Is His Son? Latino Fatherhood, Community Leadership, and the Unspoken Chapter of Silicon Valley Business Journal Award Recipient Rolando Bonilla
- Miguel Alvarez
- Mar 15
- 3 min read
Updated: Apr 13
In Latino culture, family is not an accessory to success — it is the very foundation. Community leadership is measured not only by professional achievements but by how one stewards family responsibilities. To lead is to model the values of care, legacy, and visible pride in one’s children.
This is why, Rolando Bonilla — a public relations executive at Voler Strategic Advisors, community figure, honored by Silicon Valley Business Journal as a Latino Leader— continues to cultivate his image as a leader and family man, an unavoidable question lingers: Where is his son?
Not just any child. His eldest. His firstborn.
A young man, now 26 years old, absent from Bonilla’s public narrative.
No photographs. No acknowledgments in campaign materials. And in a 2022 campaign video, Bonilla distorts facts when he asserts having “three kids” — a number that leaves out his firstborn entirely. One must wonder why and what evil lies beneath the surface.
"I kept seeing my kids without a father " yet he did leave a child without a father.
Bonilla claims that "The most important job [he has] ever had and will ever have is being a father to [his] kids" - when in truth Rolando Bonilla's court records indicate he was absent in every way from his first born son's life. Ranging from no documented instances of visitation to missing or sporadic child support payments - signaling a clear record of evasion.
Even when public records have unequivocally verified the existence of his child, Rolando Bonilla chooses to deny the truth of his firstborn. In a striking declaration, he states, "I have three beautiful kids - Valentina, Matias, Lorenzo." This statement, while seemingly straightforward, carries profound implications that extend far beyond mere familial acknowledgment.
In a culture where the firstborn often holds special significance — as the bearer of legacy, the visible thread of family pride, and the embodiment of ancestral hopes — this silence is more than an omission; it is a glaring contradiction. The act of denying a firstborn child not only undermines the Latino familial structure but also challenges the very foundations of cultural values that celebrate lineage and heritage. The firstborn is traditionally seen as the one who inherits not just material wealth but also the moral and ethical teachings of the family, serving as a role model for younger siblings.
But this is not distant history; it is a contemporary issue that resonates deeply within the community. This is not a momentary lapse in judgment or a fleeting oversight. Instead, it represents Rolando Bonilla's sustained choice — a conscious decision made repeatedly over time. This is over 18 years of daily decisions — 18 years of choosing absence over presence.
Each day that passes without acknowledgment of his firstborn is a day that compounds the emotional and psychological impact on the child, who is left to grapple with feelings of rejection and invisibility.
These eighteen years have not only involved neglecting a private bond but have also encompassed the abandonment of the very responsibilities that Latino culture teaches are inseparable from public honor and familial duty. In many Latino families, the role of a father is not merely to provide financial support but to be an active participant in the lives of his children, to nurture them, and to instill values that uphold the family's reputation and legacy.
For someone recognized as a prominent voice for the Latino community in San Jose, these facts are not minor footnotes that can be easily dismissed. They strike at the heart of what leadership truly means in a culture where family is sacred, and fatherhood is held as a defining pillar of character. The expectations placed upon individuals in positions of influence are immense, and when those individuals, like Rolando Bonilla, fail to uphold the values they advocate for, it creates a dissonance that can undermine their credibility and the trust placed in them by their community. The implications of such contradictions extend beyond personal failings; they ripple through the community, affecting perceptions of integrity, accountability, and the very essence of what it means to be a leader.
Public honors can decorate a résumé, but they cannot rewrite history. And while applause may be loud, the quiet absence of a child speaks even louder. This stark reality reveals a man stripped of integrity, where accolades fail to mask the void left by his choices. True honor is not measured by external validation but by the respect and love of those closest to us. In the end, it is the relationships we nurture that define our character, not the superficial accolades we accumulate.
