As I begin my final post for Hispanic Heritage Month, I
reflect what it means to me. I grew up in Southern California in a highly
Hispanic and Latino area. My best friend from junior high and high school is
Hispanic/Latino. Her parents graciously opened their home to me so I could
graduate high school with my friends. Her mother taught me how to make taquitos
and fried burritos. To make chile and refried beans. It is no surprise to me
that I would fall in love and marry a Hispanic man. I’m often wondering,
especially with the high tensions in society right now, how does the Hispanic
community view me?
I married my husband 8 years ago. At our wedding, one of my
husband’s cousins came up to us as we said our goodbyes and told him: “Hurt her
and you will not only have to answer to her family but yours as well.” It’s a
statement that has stayed with me ever since. I felt truly welcomed into the
family. Even while we were dating, I felt overwhelmingly accepted by his
family. It may have been because he finally found someone. Sometimes though I
feel like an outsider looking in. I often wonder if my efforts to learn their
culture, their family history, to participate and understand their culture, I’m
seen as trying too hard, an outsider trying to atone for sins of the past. In
my head, I know this is not true because my family has only been in California
since the 1940s and grew up knowing that my family truly never treated anyone
differently because of the color of their skin. However, is my family lumped
together with the Anglo-Americans who oppressed Hispanics and other minorities?
I don’t know. I’ve never asked.
I do know that my husband has been given disapproving looks
and even comments because he married a white woman. He’ll have comments made to
him about my cooking Mexican food along the lines of “Not bad for a white
woman.” As if my skin color would affect my cooking ability or my ability to
follow a recipe. I do know that we still gets looks when we are out in public
especially when we are with our daughter. The looks are especially harsh from
Hispanics from an older generation who probably believe we should all stay with
our own kind. I would love to learn to speak Spanish fluently; however I am
self-conscious about my accent and horrible pronunciation. It keeps me from
trying. My fear of ridicule from native speaks if I were to make a mistake. I
do feel I’ve proven myself worthy of the family as I love and adore my husband.
It is obvious that we care very deeply about each other. And I have taken good
care of him. Stood by him in good times and especially in the bad.
I feel we need to understand the truth in history.
Acknowledge and embrace the Hispanic and Latino influence in our state, our
country and our lives. As well as other cultures that have helped make America
who we are. To ignore their contributions would be to ignore everything about
our great country. We eat the food but criticize the people who brought it
here. Hispanics and Latinos have touched every aspect of our lives and may not
be aware of it. They are award winning authors who open our eyes to a different
point of view. They are musicians who touch our hearts with their music. We may
not understand the language but it can speak to you in so many other ways. They
are the actors and actress who make us laugh, make us cry, and makes us cheer
for those have overcome. And in many, many areas of life that we may never know their names. How do we move forward? We acknowledge and learn from
the ugly truth in our history, we work on the present and focus on the future.
We cannot fix the past but we can shape the future.
In conclusion, I will continue to embrace my husband’s
heritage as it is a part of my daughter’s heritage too. The common sentiment I
have read in Latino literature is the sense that they are straddling two
culture and not truly belonging to either one. I want my daughter to know and
be proud of both sides of her heritage. I want her to know her ancestry and
where her family has come from and been through to get to America. I remember in
school, America was called a melting pot of different cultures. I see now that
statement is not true. Throughout history, those in power have taken bits and
pieces of other cultures as a way to prove we are a blend. I see now that we
are more of a mixed salad. Multiple cultures together in the same bowl.
Cultures blending together where possible but still distinct.
No comments:
Post a Comment