The Coconut I Was, The Mango I've Become

The Latina's Bible
by Sandra Guzmán

(Page 3 of 4)

As a college student, I tried changing my name to Sandi Rodgers (Rodríguez is my maiden name). When I told my mom of my decision, I think she thought alien professors had abducted her hija. My brothers and sisters, who'd stayed in Jersey City, thought I was trying to "go white." In the pain and process of finding myself, I just wanted to blend in. I thought with a different name, a less Latino name, I could erase history and everything that made me feel "less than." I hated always being "other," or "exotic." (I certainly never saw myself as exotic, even though others did, and still do!) Any of these feelings sound familiar?

So for several years I was a coconut — brown on the outside, "white" on the inside. In other words, I had a serious blanquita complex. I even picked up a silly California Valley girl accent to cover up my Spanish-Jersey-urban rhythm. Can you imagine? All this because I wanted to "fit in." Later, still trying to find my way, I adopted a so-called black attitude and embraced everything urban and black. I felt closer to the cause and pain of my African American sisters. And I could certainly claim African heritage, since my father is Afro-Boricua. I claimed anything but Puerto Rican heritage, anything but Latino roots.

Thank God my mother, my friends, and my family finally knocked some sense into me! Through them, I got history lessons; doses of my native culture through art, music, and storytelling; trips to my homeland and other Latin American destinations; and, more important than anything, love — love of myself and my people, which helped me heal the wounds of cultural battle. Today I can proudly reclaim my culture, and I do — every day.

I finally came to understand that this cultural amalgam is a gift, a marvelous and exquisite joy. I can take pleasure in this Pan-Latino joy within and all around me: the music, the families, the racial diversity — las indias, las mestizas, las negras, las rubias, las morenas, las bajitas, las flacas, las gorditas — the novelas, the food. Ay, que rico, our food! Driving in my car, I flip from salsa to rock 'n' roll to boleros to rancheras to elevator music to hip-hop, and it feels great that a little of me lives in of all these diverse worlds. I find joy in the laughter, the ancient spirits, the bochinche or chisme, the cadence, the cariño, and the chistes of our people.

For so many years I worried that my latinidad was a handicap, an obstacle I'd have to climb over or walk around every day in my career. Now I see that accepting myself — Latina hips, skin, accent, and everything else — has been the key to my personal and professional success. The power that self-affirmation has had in my career and personal life is nothing less than remarkable. There is extraordinary power in embracing, openly, publicly, and proudly, one's latinidad.

Soy Latina, si — but I'm different from Latinas a generation ago. My lifestyle reflects a combination of Old World beliefs and new American ways. I light candles to my santos and virgencitas, and have parties for my dead ancestors. I've taught my son to leave grass and water for pretend camels and their Three Kings, who in turn leave presents under his bed. While I celebrate the individual warrior in me — as the "me generation" was taught to do — my family is still like a fortress. They lift me and ground me; they're as important to my life as water is to a growing flower. Mom, sisters, brothers, and best friends go into the equation when I have to make major life decisions. Sometimes blood comes first, even at the expense of my personal priorities. So much of me is comfortable with Old World values.

But the schizophrenia kicks in when that Old World clashes with my New World. I am an unabashed feminist. I employ a cleaning lady. I have hired a nanny. I am not defined by the house that I keep nor the man and son that I so deeply love. I am not my mother or abuelas, nor do I want to be, though I love and respect them dearly. I do not believe that being a sacrificada is a noble thing. I am deeply spiritual, but I don't go to church three times a week, as Mom does. I have learned to challenge those in positions of power over me (first teachers, then college professors, and finally bosses) when I'm not treated fairly. When I worked in television, if I hadn't looked my boss in the eye and told her why I should produce the next special, I would not have won an Emmy in 1995.

I see ways in which old Latino traditions and values have morphed with my new Latina American lifestyle in almost every area of my life. And as uncomfortable and challenging as that constant reconciling can be, I have no desire to reject it — that daily synthesizing makes me me; and it makes you you. You are a special blend of tradición and the modern. Today's Latinas are blessed to live in a time when it doesn't have to be either/or, because it can be both: American y Latina, career woman and good hija. We have choices, and can carve out lifestyles that fulfill our individual dreams and goals without peros or, ay, bendito, shame or guilt.

We are so racially diverse that for non-Latinos, and surprisingly even some Latinos, this diversity can be confusing. Our skin color ranges from the whitest shade of pale to the darkest shade of ebony, including everything in between. I happen to be a café con leche shade. What are you? And then there's the range of our body shapes. From the Selena and Jennifer Lopez big nalgonas type to the plumpness you see in Botero's paintings to the flacas you see in some women's magazines and on TV (if not in real life!). And our hair texture is just as varied: it is Chinese-straight to African curly; it is blond, red, brown, black, and any shade made by Clairol!

Unfortunately, many of us still have superficial prejudices about who "qualifies" as Latina. My friend, a psychologist, told me that after she dyed her hair blond, someone called the office asking to speak to a Latina doctor and the receptionist told the caller that there were no Latinas in the office — my friend did not qualify as Latina since she was a "blond." Dark Latinas get it in other ways. Another amiga, a marketing director, gets so frustrated when she meets fellow Latinos who marvel at how this "black woman" speaks such great Spanish — they think it's so cool that a "sister" has learned their tongue! My friend constantly has to explain, "Pero, soy Latina!"

The fact is, Latinas embody every difference in the world. Some of us are married (to men or to women), some are single and happy, some are housewives, some are single moms, and some are childless by choice. We are straight, gay, bi, and undecided. Some of us live in the barrio where our great-grandparents settled; others have moved to the suburbs or across the country. We are descendants of people who were here before this country was a country, or just recently arrived from south of the border. Some of our parents speak no English, some speak not a lick of español, and many others switch easily between Spanish and English. (I fall into that last category. Where are you in the language spectrum?) We are many women, with many faces and many languages. But as different as we are, there are some things nearly all Latinas share no matter where we came from or when: familia (think how much we love our abuelitas); faith (think how much we love our virgencitas and santos and papa Dios); love of food; love of music; and the gender politics that insists las mujeres son de la casa, los hombres de la calle (no matter how much our lives as Nueva Latinas disprove it). ¿Me entiendes?

Another thing we share is a particular ignorance of our own place and value in "the big picture." The truth is that Latinas and Latinos have inspired America. We have been instrumental in making it the powerful nation it is today, and we have changed American culture — not just since the "Latin Explosion" but from the very beginning. From California to New York, to Texas, Illinois, and Florida, our contributions to this nation in the arenas of politics, entertainment, sports, food, music, fashion, literature, and style have been enormous.

We are the largest ethnic group in this nation. Demographers predict that by the year 2050, four out of every ten Americans will be of Latino descent. But we don't have to wait until then to be influential. Our buying power is already in the billions each year. Politically we can swing national elections. (Have you noticed how Anglo politicians love to drag out their one distant Latino relative to get our attention and — they think — our votes?) There is no need or reason to reject our language, culture, looks, music, or heritage, because all those things are America!

Copyright © 2002 by Sandra Guzman. Excerpted by permission of Three Rivers Press, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

About the Author

Sandra Guzmán, an Emmy Award-winning television journalist, is the former editor-in-chief of Latina magazine. A popular speaker, Sandra also worked as a producer at Telemundo and at the Fox television network.