Monday, January 29, 2024

"Mirror's Reflection: My People and Me," by Rebecca Hart Benitez Hernandez

[Sense of community is] a spirit of belonging together, a feeling that there is an authority structure that can be trusted, an awareness that trade and mutual benefit come from being together, and a spirit that comes from shared experiences that are preserved as art.” Dr. David McMillan

 I often struggle to explain to white people the sense of community and connection I feel within my race and culture and how that sense and connection is different from theirs. I currently live with my husband and in-laws, who are white, and from living with them I can see that the relationships, connections, and loyalties they have within themselves as a family and within their cultural community are different from that of people of color and immigrant families in America. 


As a Mexican-American, I immediately feel connection, understanding, respect, and love toward any Latinx person I meet. I see my parents in the faces of the elders in my community. I see their struggles, and I see their pain. I think about how, like my mother, maybe they haven’t held their mothers and fathers in over 30 years. Maybe they, too, came to this country young, and now many years later, with adult children of their own, cry out in their rooms for their parents and family as my parents do. I wonder if like my parents they left a peaceful life on a village farm, where life is slow and full of love and laughter, for uncertainty. I can look at any old Latina woman and know she hugs her children tight every chance she gets. I know she prays for them constantly, I know she makes all their meals with love and care. I know if she doesn’t have documentation she probably babysat kids in the neighborhood for money like my mother. Or sold things she made like the many years my mom would make hundreds of tamales every weekend, drive an hour to a Latinx-dense neighborhood, and stay out until she sold every last one. Or maybe, like my mother, she sold AVON or winter blankets or pots and pans. I see my father in every Latino man I see who is tired after a long day of labor. I know that after a hard day at work, that old man still makes time for his kids. No matter how tired my pops was or how late it was, he was there for me, eye bags and all with a smile on his face. If I ever come across a younger Latinx person, I know that like me, they have a soft spot for their mamá. Maybe their mom also stays up at night with them, telling them stories of their village life, and maybe they too, laugh together like I do with my mom when I ask her about how the boys were in her village. Maybe when they complain about being tired, their dad too, starts telling stories about how back in his day everyone had two full time jobs and that we young folk have it easy. 


I am constantly trying to explain the logic behind the trust I have in Latinos who are complete strangers. It is hard to put into words that I simply trust them because they are like me. They too love their Mexico as I do, their first and biggest love is their mother, and like me they will work themselves to death before seeing anyone in their family suffer. They will sacrifice everything good to make sure those they love are okay. Their father is the protector and head of the family, like mine. They have a blinding trust in God and in his word like me. They have a mother who poured all the love in the world towards raising them like mine. They eat what I eat, they love what I love and love as I love, they respect as I do, and they were raised with Latin-specific rules, beliefs and morals like me. I find myself getting comfortable quickly around Latinos because I am able to see myself in them, I am able to see similarities in how we process and respond to information, on how we act and what we care about.. Their mother is a mirror to mine, their pain is the same, their struggles and their love are the same. They are responsible to their families, they take accountability, and they love like no other. I feel safe around them because I have faith in the strength of our culture and that our values align. I find that that mentality isn’t the case for white communities. Thus, what takes me one meeting to read, open up to, and decide if I can trust or feel safe around a fellow Latino, takes more with a white person, because I am unable to trust that the morals, values, rules, beliefs, family roles and structure for their community as a whole will be consistent with all members of their community. It is a very individualistic culture whereas Latino culture is heavily community and family based. 


“Collectivism stresses the importance of the community, while individualism is focused on the rights and concerns of each person. Where unity and selflessness or altruism are valued traits in collectivist cultures, independence and personal identity are promoted in individualistic cultures.” 

Kendra Cherry, MSEd


For us, family is everything, and my people are very important to me. Immigrant communities also take those bonds very seriously. They are what make us who we are. We are truly never alone. I experience my people’s love in all aspects of my life. I can go up to any Latinx people and strike up a conversation. A simple hello followed by where are you guys from. "De que parte son?" And the possibilities are endless for where that conversation will lead. A new friend? A new family member? Food advice/ a recipe to try? Talking about what we know and love about each other's regions? Telling every older Latina woman she reminds me of my beautiful mom because they all do in some way. I see mi gente everywhere and it brings me great pride. And with that community growing so does our connection. It will never falter, we will always be there for each other, helping our raza continue on one step at a time.