Morales, a double major and minor senior, is working for equity and justice in underserved communities
Donovan Morales
By Taylor Pedersen, CLA Student Writer - June 4, 2025
By the time Donovan Morales reached middle school, he already understood that identity wasn’t something to be taken for granted. His father, who immigrated from Mexico, and his mother, a Californian from the Bay Area, raised him in a predominantly white community along the urban growth boundary in rural Gresham, Oregon. Though he was close with his classmates, Morales always felt an undercurrent of difference.
“I had a lot of white friends, but I always knew I moved through the world differently," he said. "Coming to college made that even more obvious.”
The 2016 election snapped his quiet awareness of difference into something larger. Morales was only 13 when he first felt fragility within his family’s security. “There was this moment, ‘even though I’m a citizen, do we need to leave?’” he recalled his Grandma saying. “That fear—it never left.” At the same time, watching figures like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez break barriers helped him imagine a different future: one where people who looked like him didn’t just survive in politics but led.
Law school had always been the expected plan for Morales, but after OSU’s fast-tracked law program, “three plus three,” ended before he was a freshman, Morales enrolled in a political science class almost on a whim. “I took that first poli sci class, and I was like—wait, I love this,” Morales said. One major turned into two, with ethnic studies joining political science, quickly followed by minors in Indigenous studies and social justice.
Despite the heavy course load, Morales wasn’t content to stay in the classroom. He noticed that the political science student body, like many parts of the university, was overwhelmingly white and male. He became the president of the People of Color in Politics & Law Club to help carve out a space for students like him: those navigating law, politics, and identity all at once.
“We needed somewhere to be in community," he said. "Most of the political issues we’re studying are ones that directly impact people of color. It didn’t make sense not to have a place for us.”
Morales also became involved in OSU’s chapter of Movimiento Estudiantil Chicanx de Aztlán (M.E.Ch.A.), a nationwide organization promoting Chicano identity, unity, and political empowerment. Starting as an intern event coordinator during his junior year, Morales became a community organizer and liaison for the group, creating inclusive spaces for Latino students to come together and discuss political action.
Morales’s academic work, especially the Indigenous studies courses he took with Dr. Luhui Whitebear, further sharpened his perspective on Oregon’s deeply rooted inequities. Learning about redlining, exclusionary laws, and Indigenous displacement gave him language for the injustices he’d felt growing up but hadn’t fully understood. “It’s like Oregon was designed to be a white-only state, and no one taught us that,” he said. “Now that I’m working in the legislature, I see how much of that history still shapes the policies we’re fighting over today.”
That firsthand look at policymaking began with an internship on Congresswoman Janelle Bynum’s campaign. Watching Bynum move from state representative to U.S. Congress, Morales saw the messy reality of politics and gave him a look into what no political science textbook can quite capture. Campaign organizing, constituent outreach, and fundraising gave him the tools he now uses daily as a legislative aide in Salem, tracking bills as they wind through Oregon’s House and Senate.
Working at the capitol, Morales is shocked by just how many good ideas never make it to the floor. "This session alone had almost 4,000 bills introduced," he said. "Some of them were awful, trying to take away rights. But some, like a study for reparations for Black Oregonians, were incredible. And still, they died in committee before they could even be voted on.” Morales explained that seeing everyday people, particularly Latino farmworkers, advocate for their communities has been the most moving part of the work, "That’s the kind of advocacy I want to support.” He said.
While Morales once pictured himself heading to law school, his time in the legislature has shifted his goals. Rather than practicing law, he hopes to continue in political organizing and campaign work, building power behind the scenes for leaders who share his commitment to equity and justice.
For students of color considering a future in law or politics, Morales’ advice is simple but passionate: start wherever you can, and don’t wait to claim your space. "At the end of the day, sometimes the only person you have in your corner is yourself. So, build your resume and be proud of what you’re doing. It matters."