During these final days of Hispanic Heritage month, I’ve taken a moment to reflect upon my childhood to try and collect my thoughts on my heritage. Somehow, however, I’ve only found myself more and more confused. My mother was born in Cuba in 1971. At around age 6 her family was lucky enough to come to America and escape Castro’s regime. When her family arrived in the states, she didn’t understand a lick of English. As for my father, he was born into a Cuban-Sicilian family in Tampa, Florida. Both of my parents grew up immersed in Cuban culture. They spoke Spanish in their homes, listened to Spanish music, and knew the ins and outs of most everything that was Cuban-American at the time. As for me, however, I never even properly learned Spanish. As I grew up, I found that I could never 100% relate to other latina girls. I may have the cravings for guava pastries and the devout catholic abuela, but I grew up with next to no contact with latinx media. TV shows, music, and slang are all almost 100% foreign to me.
I’ve noticed that although I find it hard to relate to my latinx peers, I find it even more difficult to relate to those of mine who are not. I never met my Sicilian grandmother, so my only experience with grandparents is with my very Cuban abuelos. Almost every family gathering I’ve been to has been at my abuelos’ house, every time we visit you can guarantee there will be an excessive amount of beans and rice, along with the familiar chatter of my older relatives gossiping and laughing in their native language. On thanksgiving we serve yuca with our turkey, and my abuelo likes to smoke cigars (much to everyone else’s dismay) on the back porch with the other men of the household. Your grandma bakes cookies? Mine rarely speaks english and prays the rosary on the daily.
I’ve spent my whole life confused about where I stand as a Latina. I’ve attempted to get closer to the culture over the past 5 years through taking Spanish classes at school and attempting to practice with family members, but it’s only left me more conflicted. Am I faking it? If I ever do become 100% fluent in the language will I be considered “more Latina”? Will I finally feel comfortable with my identity?
Not only that but with my increased fluency in the language comes a heightened awareness of the prejudices of my conservative cuban relatives. I find myself wondering if I’m better off not understanding what they say, not knowing what they think of queer people like myself. Though my family’s tasteless stances are discouraging, I am still determined to pursue a minor in Spanish. Regardless of what happens when I speak up against their hatred, I know for a fact that I love the Spanish language and the Latinx community, and I hope to find where I stand in it as I continue my academic career here at USFSP.
Until next time,
Francesca