Love-Blind

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Many people dream of that perfect relationship. They can vividly picture and feel the joy and bliss of loving and being loved, but many people’s dreams are shattered. Many relationships just turn out to be the complete opposite, but does one face the truth? When one wants that loving fairytale relationship so bad, they refuse to accept the truth. For many people, accepting the truth, means being alone, accepting failure, and accepting that your relationship is a lie. Many just cannot bear with the idea and would rather lie to themselves than face reality.
Part of my coming of age is that I experienced the very challenging end of six and a half years of a relationship. She was my high school sweetheart. We got together as freshmen and were together for some of college. She was my best friend, my other half and to be honest I really saw her as my wife. I had also grown extremely close to her family and they became my family.
She ended up going on a two-week class in the summer in Mexico and I was waiting at her house on the day she would come back. When she arrived I just felt something was wrong. Later that night I asked her if anything happened on her trip. After persisting a bit because I truly felt something, she admitted that she cheated on me on the trip. At that moment I was very torn apart. My entire image of my beautiful wonderful relationship was being threatened. Something like this should be impossible. I was struggling in my head on what I should do because a very small portion of me was aware of the fact but the majority of my being wanted and needed her. As I was struggling to make a decision she would look in my eyes telling me that she loved me and that it was a mistake. She wanted me to forgive her. I wanted to forgive her. No one is perfect, right? We all make mistakes. How could I hold that against her and throw away close to six and a half years?
A very small and weak voice of logic in my head would tell me, “anyone that would cheat on you does not love you. She could not care enough about you or your relationship if she would do that.” There was also a LOUDER and STRONGER voice and feeling that was saying, “ She made a mistake. She loves you. You have such beautiful relationship. What about all those great memories? What about all those plans for the future?” Then I also thought of my mom and her mistakes. How she let someone walk all over her. I swore in my mind that I would never let someone disrespect me like that. I refuse to suffer the same fate as my mom.
Even though only 2% of me wanted to end it, I did. It hurt more than anything in my life because I had lost my best friend and what felt like the other half of my soul. It was tough…
She ended up dating that guy she made the mistake with for a while but he ended up not wanting to be with her. She kept trying to suck me back in after that but thank God I did not fall for it. This really makes me feel for all those women who struggle to leave abusive relationships because even though I was not physically abused by my partner, I know how hard it is to leave someone that you have been with for a long time. The logic is almost non-existent and it doesn’t make it any easier when your partner continues to tell you that they love you, but I learned that words mean nothing and actions are everything. Now, I am with the most wonderful, smart, kind, amazing, loving, and respectful woman in the whole world.

Photo from Advanced Life Skills Website: <http://advancedlifeskills.com/blog/10-timeless-guidelines-for-a-happy-relationship/>

Malintzin

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I am currently reading The Memoirs of Dona Marina and while reading her book, I came to realize that Dona Marina was intelligent from an early age.  Her mother was Mayan and her father Aztec.  Both were well off and she enjoyed many benefits, obtaining education both in politics along side her father and women duties and dominance from her mother; this is were she was able to learn different Mayan dialects that eventually served her well during the conquest.

Dona Marina was sold off by her step father in order for her young step brother to acquire her position.  When kidnapped, Dona Marina was raped several times by her captors, because as she mentioned, she had developed breast and hips at an early age.  Another Aztec young lady, Xitalia, had also been kidnapped with Dona Marina, but her virginity was not stolen from her, because as Dona Marina says, she was heavy (24).  Xitalia would become very hysterical whenever she would loose site of Dona Marina fearing that Marina would suffer again.

Hepple, Jeffry S. The Treasure of La Malinche. Vol. 1. 2008. Print.

Before entering the City of Tabasco, Dona Marina and Xitalia went to a House of Many Women (prostitutes).  When Marina met the head woman, she gave her a gold earring in exchange of a bath for both her and Xitalia to look presentable before their new leader.  Dona Marina then explained to the head women that her virginity had been stolen from her so now she needed guidance regarding her sexuality in order to be in good favor with her new master.  In her memoirs, Marina mentions that loosing her virginity was more so a relief of the responsibility of being a virgin.  Now she could enjoy the ecstasy of sex her mom used to speak of.

Dona Marina was a very smart women who learned of a women’s dominance of a man at an early age as her mother dominated her father perfectly.  Through the loss of her virginity, Dona Marina realized that she had to grow up and act as a woman and try her best to survive and be in good favor of men.  Dona Marina was able to seal the deal with her new master and she was able to stay in the palace with full service along side Xitalia, who Lord Mayor Tabasco thought she was fat too.  Dona Marina came of age through rape, but never felt lesser than anyone else.

Halloween, Disney Princesses, and Skin Color

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PrincessBlog3

      It’s really easy for me to remember all of the Halloween costumes I have ever worn. When I was four years old, my mom dressed me up as Minnie Mouse. I have always had a great love and appreciation for everything Disney, but my Disney costumes stopped right there. The next year my mom dressed me up as what was supposed to be Mother Nature, and every year after that I dressed up as some kind of witch (it’s amazing how big of a variety there is in witch costumes). I did that for about eight years before giving up on costumes altogether.
      My mom made me an Alice (“Ale”-ce) in Wonderland costume two years ago. I kept putting it on and taking it off all through the night; I didn’t feel comfortable wearing it, even if it was a step up from all the years I was a witch. I didn’t look anything like Alice in Wonderland so I felt like I wasn’t supposed to be wearing the costume. And it’s not like I ever wanted to be a witch in the first place; I really wanted to be a Disney Princess just like every other little girl but I didn’t think I was allowed to be because I didn’t look like any of them. I have tan skin, dark almond-shaped eyes, and dark ringlets. I’m average height and even though I do have curves, I am not considered slim. There’s no doubt that our Disney Princesses are an integral part of American culture, setting the standard for beauty amongst little girls everywhere, but why aren’t girls that look like me contributing to the standard?
      When I was a little girl, I had the option to choose from Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora, Ariel, Belle, Mulan, Jasmine, and Pocahontas. Cinderella and Aurora are blonde, Ariel is a redhead, and Snow White, Belle, and Mulan have skin too fair in comparison to my own. I guess I could have been Jasmine or Pocahontas but they never did get to wear big dresses, and there was no fun in being a princess if I didn’t get to wear a big dress, jewelry, and heels (even the princess with the FINS got to wear a big dress at some point). Besides, the European settlers mistreated Pocahontas for what she looked like, calling her people “savages” numerous times – She happen to be the one to look like me the most, and I didn’t want the other kids to pick up on that.
      I wore my Alice in Wonderland costume one month before Disney’s Tangled hit theatres. It had been almost ten years since Disney had inducted a new princess and of course this one had fair skin, blonde hair, and colored eyes too. I guess that’s why Tiana, the very first African-American princess, took the world by storm. Would six-year-old me have considered dressing up as Tiana for Halloween? Maybe. The fact of the matter is that I don’t look anything like Tiana either. There isn’t a Disney Princess that looks like me.
      It hasn’t been long since Nancy Kanter, Senior VP of Programming for Disney Junior, explained that Sofia the First was never meant to be Latina in the first place. While some do think it’s time for Disney to introduce a Latina princess, others were relieved to find out that the company was not going to portray Latinos as people with fair skin, auburn hair, and colored eyes. Do I stand amongst those people? No, definitely not. I understand that being Latina/o is not about complexion so, honestly, I don’t care how Disney chooses to label Sofia the First. I do eventually want to see a princess that looks like me, even if she isn’t labeled Latina – hey, we don’t have to label her at all (isn’t it nice how we seem to forget that Belle is French and Rapunzel is German?). I know I didn’t have a full understanding of my racial and ethnic identities at six years old anyway. I just wish I could have at least felt like I had more options in costumes. Soon, Disney, soon…
      This blog would not be complete without mention of two other Disney heroines. When I first expressed my concerns to a friend, he suggested I move beyond the princess realm and start looking into all of the female characters to see if there were any that resembled my looks. I think I would have enjoyed dancing around and playing the tambourine in an Esmeralda costume, I don’t know why she never crossed my mind. It’s such a shame, though, that the only character that looks like me is a gypsy – not that there’s anything wrong with gypsies, but they’re often depicted as tramps and thieves. I also wanted to give a quick shout-out to Merida from Brave (2012). The daughter of King Fergus and Queen Elinor could never be inducted as a Disney Princess because Pixar Animation Studios produced the movie. My friend and I even had to wait in completely separate line to take a picture with her at Disneyland because she couldn’t be included in the Princess Fantasy Faire. Whatever. It was the best picture we took.

Discussion Questions: Under the Feet of Jesus

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Under the Feet of Jesus by Helena María Viramontes

Reading assignment for Monday, November 12. Your reply (under Comments) is due before class.

Be sure to check and make sure your response posts.

Describe and discuss Estrella’s life and her coming of age. What is her position in her family? In her community? How does the barn fit in with the narrative?
How does the barn fit in to the novel? What is Estella’s relationship with her mother Petra? With Perfecto?

Barefoot Heart

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Barefoot Heart

 

Barefoot Heart is a bildungsroman due to the accounts that Elva has when she recounts the memories she had of her family while they were migrant workers going from Texas to Minnesota, and Wisconsin to work the beet fields. She recounts the experiences she has while living in migrant farm town.  She recounts the long hours and hard days her siblings had to work in order to support the family. While all her family members worked Elva was standing on the side of the fields getting ready to take water her family working on the farm land, this was her migrate job for the family. 

Elva coming of age is both psychologically and morally due to different events that she encounters while growing up in a large family. Also the national landscape that was changing at the time also played a part in her coming of age. Some of the psychologically aspects to her coming of age were the young story teller she met when she was a young girl at the Wisconsin farms, she would tell stories to the children at night and this helped Elva get a greater imagination. The public library had a big role in the development of Elva, she was able to check out books and read as much as she wanted and this increased the way she saw stuff. The music in Elva life played a big part too, morally the music connected her with her past. With the music she was able to connect with the vibe that the past had, while still growing up she was able to learn new music through the band in high school.

A major changing point in Elva’s life was the age different she had with her siblings, and parents. The gap between her and the rest help her get more opportunities in life, like traveling to Wisconsin and to New York City. She did not have to work the fields to survive, and life was a little easier for her. She did work the farm fields, but it was not as dishonorable as her sibling saw it. But she was a supervisor, not a worker on the fields so she never experienced the back braking work. She was smart and wants to not only graduate from high school, but she wanted to go on to college. So with her being so young she was treated a little more easily because life was not as hard as it once was. Her parents were collecting Social Security, her sibling were all married with kids. So she was lucky enough to see the dark side of the migrant farm workers, and she was able to experience the American dream by what her older sibling had experienced and what they have learned in life.

#CHST 302 Barefoot Heart Twitter

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Debate on Child Farm Labor

Religious Beliefs

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My mother is a very religious and conservative women.  She intended to have my siblings and myself completely devoted to her belief system and enjoy every step of the way.  My mother began as a bible student back when I was in middle school.  She later became a regular bible student and began going to church like an addict.  My siblings and I were not very enthusiastic about the whole idea, however I noticed that her life had changed.  Compared to her past demons, this was a positive for her.  Because of my mother’s shaky past, this religion saved her life in every way it could.  Spiritually, physically and psychologically.  This is one thing that I do appreciate religion doing for her, she was not a happy and stable women before this.

My mother became so involved in her church that her children, who once were her main focus, now became her third chore.  Religion, saving others, then her children.  The needs her children had, had become alien to her as she expected us to behave the way her religion wanted us to behave.  She believed religion should rule us and from then on we would be able to act and behave as expected.  I had lost my mother to this construction of dominance created by society (religion).  I respect everyone who believes in religion, however for me, this has become very hard to understand.  Religion was, in some cases, created to control and dominate individuals.  We can see that in the forced conversion of many peoples around the world.

My mother is happy, or appears to be happy, and I am an onlooker who watches her and feels so detached from her.  It’s like watching a television character.  From my teenage years, my mother was not there for me.  I was expected to read books in order to understand my development.  I did not have private talks with my mother and when things were getting out of hand, she felt that saying “I do love you” would change things, no surprise that it did not.  It felt artificial.  My mother found herself and I lost myself in the process.  I now have come to terms with myself and accept my mother in any way.  I guess I always wanted her to be happy when I was a child, I just did not think she would leave us behind.

Coming of Age Through Motherhood

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My boyfriend’s parents have an amazing story. I recently had a chance to sit down and have a heart to heart my boyfriend’s mother, Monica, about it and about her coming of age experience.

The second oldest of five children, Monica grew up in a very strict Mexican household. When she met Manuel, my boyfriend’s father, she was 15 and a freshman in high school. Her parents were so strict that she was not allowed to see him outside school, and had to come straight home every day. However, Monica and Manuel still managed to see each other, and soon Monica found out she was pregnant. Neither Monica’s nor Manuel’s parents took the news well. Monica’s parent’s practically disowned her, kicking her out of the house. Manuel was also kicked out of the house. The only thing that their parents approved of (reluctantly), was Monica and Manuel’s marriage. They needed to sign the papers allowing them to marry, but after that they offered no assistance to the young couple, who had to find a way to make it on their own. By 16, they were married with a son, and renting an apartment. Monica describes this time as being very difficult for her, mostly because of the rejection she received from her parents. They acted as if they lost their daughter, and that only made the already difficult situation that much worse.

Manuel found work any way he could. He did construction, gardening, stone work, any physical labor jobs he could find. Monica stayed home to raise their first son, Manny, and then found part time office work. She told me that many people were surprised to find out that they never had to rely on government assistance, even at such young ages. They always worked and saved for what they needed. While many young couples face similar situations, (getting pregnant at a young age, needing to support themselves), and end up separating or divorcing, Monica and Manny truly made it work. What may have started as “puppy love” or infatuation, had turned into real love. 27 years later, not only have they stayed together, but they had three more children, all boys. Monica and Manuel loved each other, and they loved building their family. When I talk to Monica about it today, she always says that marriage is about love, but more importantly it’s about hard work and respect. Monica and Manuel never had it easy, but it was with hard work that they raised their family happily together. Both of their parents came to forgive their children and there hasn’t been any bad blood since.  Although Monica and Manuel had to grow up at a very young age and had difficult lives, the home they created for their children has been one of the happiest and most secure of anyone I’ve ever met. Monica says that looking back, although she was forced to become a mother, wife, and an adult at the young age of 16, she couldn’t be happier with how her life turned out. If she could go back, the only thing she would change would have been the reception she got from her parents. It may sound cheesy, but looking at the happiness and love that Manuel and Monica have for each other and their children proves to me that incredible things can come from the most difficult situations, and that true love isn’t easy, but it does exist.

Mi Pobre Mama

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My mom got a boyfriend after my parents divorced. He seemed nice at first but as we all got to know him better the truth came out. I was about six years old when this happened. He turned out to be an alcoholic and would constantly yell and cuss at my mother, brother and I. He never hit my brother and I but he would threaten to hurt us and kill us. He would bring his other drunk and drug addict friends and hang out in front of our house every day. His daily routine would be sitting on the porch and drinking beer all day and listening to Nirvana with his friends. It was the same songs all day every day. He had an occasional job here and there but that did not last long. He would mostly just hang out all day and do nothing. He would rarely ever help my mom out with anything in the house unless she bribed him with a beer.

He would also constantly tell my mom that she would be nothing without him and that she needed him. I don’t think he ever seriously hurt my mother physically but I do recall a few times that he shoved or pushed her. Eventually my mother broke up with him and I was thrilled, but shortly after she begged him to come back. He came back to live with us again. He would constantly be telling his friends and everyone else that lived on my street that my mom was a whore and a “puta.” He was always convinced that my mom was cheating on him and sleeping with everyone, which was not further from the truth.

My mom would work long hours and then spend all her free time at home taking care of my brother and I. She broke up with him eventually but she felt so sorry for him that she let him live in the shack in our backyard. Even though they weren’t together anymore we all still had to deal with the same shit. My mother could never have any male friends come to the house even after they were not together anymore because he still lived with us. He would always tell her that she better not be bringing any “vatos” to the house or he would blast them. It would not matter if it was just a friend or someone selling things, he would always get worked up. Even when my father came to visit us or takes us for the weekend he would try to argue with him, but he would mostly talk shit to his friends about my dad or to my mom because my dad was a lot bigger than him. As the years went on he became sicker got more into drugs and was really not all there. He would be shouting daily to himself that my mom was a “fucking whore.” He would repeat this like a mantra again and again daily. “fucking whore,” “fucking whore,” “fucking whore,” “fucking whore!” I don’t know why mom put up with this, all I know is it did not help with her self-esteem to be hearing this everyday.

(photo by online pharmacies canada: http://www.onlinepharmaciescanada.com/ailments/alcoholism.aspx)