Fabian Doñate
It’s never easy to be on the receiving end of a negative health diagnosis. Making the experience even more unsettling? When a child has to deliver the news to a parent because of a patient-doctor language barrier.
Much to his chagrin, Fabian Doñate is all too familiar with this very situation. He was in his late teens when he accompanied his father — who immigrated to the United States from Zacatecas, Mexico — to a doctor’s appointment to learn the results of some medical tests.
As a member of the Culinary Workers Union through his job as porter at the Stratosphere Hotel, Doñate’s father had top-notch health insurance. However, because his father only spoke Spanish and the doctor lacked bilingual skills, Doñate was charged with translating the diagnosis: type 2 diabetes. Not only that, but he also had to interpret the doctor’s ensuing instructions.
“Even though we had the best health insurance in town, we still experienced a great health disparity that may have changed the entire trajectory of my father’s health and the life of my family,” Doñate says. “It’s a prime example of our health care system failing our family.
“As a patient, my father deserved to be treated better — and as a child, I should not have been placed in that situation.”
As troubling as the story is, a silver lining emerged from the experience: Doñate began to develop a passion for health care. Specifically, he became determined to help fix a broken system — not as an often-ignored and marginalized bystander but as an advocate on the inside.
That’s why Doñate pursued a public health degree at UNLV. It’s also why he earned a graduate degree in health administration from the University of Maryland. And why he answered the call when asked to help shape the health policy for the Joe Biden-Kamala Harris 2020 presidential campaign; why he answered another call a year later to fill a vacant seat in the Nevada Senate; why he successfully ran for his election in 2022; and why he currently chairs the state Senate’s Health and Human Services committee.
“What happened with my father is exactly why many children like myself often have to grow up and mature faster than our counterparts — because society leaves us behind,” Doñate says. “So studying public health was my avenue to solving these injustices — it’s the reason I chose the career that I did.”
That career actually got off to a sluggish start after Doñate graduated from UNLV. After several months, Doñate landed a gig in his chosen field, but it necessitated a temporary move to Washington, D.C. Then COVID-19 hit, the world came to a screeching halt, and millions of citizens got crushed in a pandemic-induced economic vice. Among those citizens: Doñate’s family, most of whom work in the service industry and were laid off overnight.
The situation forced Doñate to return to Las Vegas, where he worked remotely and assisted his family however he could, starting with filling out complicated unemployment forms.
“That was the hardest moment of my life,” Doñate says. “And it led to my deep frustration with the political system, which I believe failed my family and my community.”
Instead of internalizing that frustration, though, Doñate expressed it to the masses. In summer 2020, he wrote an op-ed that criticized both Nevada’s public health response to the pandemic and the state’s public health infrastructure. The article for The Nevada Independent — an online-only nonprofit publication that covers issues of import to the Silver State — received national attention, even landing on the radar of campaign officials for then-Democratic presidential candidate Joe Biden.
Biden’s campaign team was so impressed that it reached out to Doñate and offered to make him one of the youngest members of the future president’s Health Policy Platform Committee. Doñate accepted and not only assisted with crafting Biden’s health care strategy, but he also was part of a team that helped establish a new agency within the Department of Defense that focuses on innovative health care research and technologies.
Then shortly after being elected president, Biden recruited Nevada Senator Yvanna Cancela to join his administration. When Cancela resigned from the state Senate, two organizations with political muscle — the Culinary Workers Union Local 226 and Make the Road Nevada — suggested that Doñate run for the vacant District 10 seat.
After some initial trepidation, he accepted the challenge and went on to beat out 14 other candidates. When the Clark County Commission made Doñate’s appointment official in February 2021, the then 24-year-old became the youngest state senator in Nevada history.
Not that Doñate ever intended to make such history. In fact, his plan was to hold off running for office later on in his life. So why accelerate the timeline?
“I realized that many of the state’s problems weren’t going to be fixed until someone like myself was represented in the political process,” he says. “Given my public health background, which wasn’t yet present in the Legislature, and the experiences that my family went through — whether it was my dad’s diabetes diagnosis or the fact that I had to assist in filling out my family’s unemployment forms during COVID-19 — I wanted to make sure others in similar situations had a voice advocating for them in the state Senate.”
And Doñate didn’t waste any time using that voice. During his hearing with the Clark County Commission, he wore a face covering emblazoned with a message in all caps that clearly conveyed his top priority: Health Comes First.
“As chair of the Senate’s Health and Human Services Committee, I’m now in charge of writing our state’s health policy and [shaping] how the health care system operates,” Doñate says. “My goal is to rid injustices in our health care system and ensure that no child ever has to go through what I did with my own family.”
How did you end up choosing UNLV, and when did you realize you made the right decision?
Actually, I didn’t choose UNLV; it was chosen for me.
My dad immigrated to the U.S. from Mexico, and like most immigrant households, my parents did not want to take out loans for anything — including higher education. So even though I was adamantly against going to UNLV — I wanted to attend college outside of my hometown — my mom strong-armed me into enrolling a few months before the fall 2014 semester.
In exchange, I would be given a car that I could use to go to and from school and work. I thought it was a great bargain.
Then, as my mom and I walked around on campus and explored some of the student organizations during freshman orientation, she mentioned that her coworker’s son had received a stipend for participating in student government at UNLV. She thought it would be a good opportunity for me to network and earn some extra income, so she encouraged me to sign up.
I did, and on my first day of college, I was appointed as a senator in the student government organization CSUN (Consolidated Students of UNLV). It was one of the best decisions I made during my college journey. Because being part of student government sparked my political activism at a young age and led to my later involvement in campaigns.
So while I enrolled at UNLV a bit begrudgingly, I’m glad that I did.
When did you first become politically motivated, and when did running for public office become a goal?
I started getting more motivated to participate in our democratic process during the 2016 presidential election. Being in student government at the time, I got the opportunity to work with campus leaders and local community members. That, in turn, prompted my eagerness to get involved on a greater scale.
But, while my political activism was rooted at UNLV, my journey to political office was much different — it’s honestly a story about luck and timing.
By the end of 2020, I had already returned to Las Vegas and was working from home for several months while finishing my graduate degree at the University of Maryland. Around this same time, Leo Murietta — my mentor and the executive director of Make the Road Nevada — invited me to breakfast to catch up and learn about my post-graduate plans.
When we met, I told Leo I wanted to pursue my doctorate — I had just spent months applying to schools across the country. During our conversation, Leo asked if I would consider running for office one day. I told him, “Maybe in my thirties.”
A few days later, State Senator Yvanna Cancela announced she was resigning to take a job at the White House. Leo called me that same day and asked if I would be interested in applying for the seat. I knew that I didn’t have the experience or connections to be a competitive candidate. But I nonetheless responded the same way most elected officials do when receiving “the call”: If called upon to serve, the answer is yes, of course.
After that, a coalition of labor organizations began to build around my candidacy, including the Culinary Workers Union Local 226 and UFCW Local 711 — the two unions in town that both my parents belong to.
What do you recall about the process that led to you being appointed to the Nevada Senate?
I still remember my first call to discuss the appointment with Nevada Senate Majority Leader Nicole Cannizzaro. I shared with her my personal story — about my experience as a Culinary kid and the devastating circumstances my family went through after being laid off during the pandemic. Majority Leader Cannizzaro shared similar life stories, and we bonded over our mutual experience growing up on the east side of Las Vegas. We talked about her advocacy as the first female Majority Leader in Nevada, and making the Legislature more diverse and reflective of our state — it was a life changing conversation and one of the reasons why I consider her a role model in my life.
Two days before the Clark County Commission was scheduled to meet at the end of January 2021, Majority Leader Cannizzaro called to inform me that I would be selected for the appointment. Which meant I would be sworn in as the youngest lawmaker in the history of the Nevada Senate.
Following my conversation with Majority Leader Cannizzaro, I walked into my parent’s living room and shared the news. It was an emotional moment for all of us. Then we spent the evening just as any other middle-class Latino family would: around the dinner table eating arroz and frijoles.
Because of the pandemic, my family didn’t get to attend my swearing-in ceremony in Carson City. But they were able to watch it virtually, as did other relatives from across the country and in Mexico.
It was a moment we’ll never forget.
You’re the first person in your family to attend and graduate from college. So what’s your message to other first-generation students who might be struggling and fear their obstacles are insurmountable?
I actually have two messages. The first: Reflect on your “why” and follow your north star. Because if you’re determined to reach a goal, you will find your way to the finish line — nothing will get in your way.
The hardships of my family were my “why,” and my north star was to provide my ancestors the life they dreamed of when they came to this country.
That’s not to say things were easy for me. During my time at UNLV, there were many days when I would skip meals because I needed to save money for the vehicle that got me to and from work and school. Then during graduate school, my full-time job didn’t pay enough for me to live on, so I had to get a second job.
These were very difficult times in my life. But, they taught me a lot about humility and privilege. Plus, I knew what my parents went through was 10 times more difficult than what I was going through. And there was no possible scenario in which I would take their sacrifices for granted. That ultimately fed my persistence to keep going.
The second message: Ask for help when you need it. UNLV has great resources for students who find themselves in difficult situations. For instance, financial therapy sessions helped me and provided an opportunity to discuss my hardships without fear of being stigmatized or embarrassed.
These services are often free or offered at a reduced price. Don’t hesitate to take advantage of them.
A recent UNLV graduate who is considering throwing their hat in the political ring asks you for some “must do’s” and a “must don’ts.” What’s your response?
Must do’s: First, find your purpose and your story. If you don’t have a solid reason for running for office, it will be difficult to navigate the political system once you’re in the ring.
Most legislators discover their purpose through personal experiences or hardships. I ran for the state Senate in response to my family members being laid off during the pandemic. Many public servants find themselves in similar positions of hardship, pain, and suffering — all of that usually provides the inspiration and purpose to fight for change in our communities.
Second, identify your support system. Running for political office is physically and emotionally draining, so it’s important to develop a support system that can act as your “ground.” It will help you navigate your campaign and help you succeed once you’re in office.
Lastly, before declaring for office, meet with local elected leaders and ask them to share their experiences running for and serving in office. These connections might lead to vital mentorships should you decide to run for office.
As for must don’ts, here are two:
Don’t run for the title. I’ve spoken to several candidates over the years who have expressed a desire to run for office, but when pressed as to why, it’s clear some are more interested in notoriety and attention than serving the public. The glitz and glamor of public office expires within the first month, then reality settles in. Running for office is a sacrifice that can be both draining and fulfilling, but it should be methodically considered before sprinting into action.
Also, don’t feed into political partisanship. It’s easy to see why the world of politics is viewed as divisive and partisan, but it’s actually quite the opposite. There are principles of decorum, procedure, and integrity ingrained within our institutions, and ultimately it’s our responsibility to protect these norms.
That’s why, during the first two weeks of every new legislative session, I make a point to set up meetings with every legislator — Republicans and Democrats from each chamber. These kitchen-style conversations are often missing from today’s politics, but they make us a better society in the long run.
I know during campaign season it seems like competing candidates are on opposite sides of every issue. But in reality, when we get to Carson City, we’re all fighting for the same team: our home state of Nevada.
