Culture Clash at the Altar: My Wedding, My Parents, and Being Latina

My husband proposed on Valentine’s Day of 2010. As cliché as it sounds, it was our anniversary as boyfriend and girlfriend—to me that made it all the more romantic.

Then came the wedding. I know this will sound strange to many readers, but I was actually kind of dreading it. I wasn’t worried about being married; it was the ceremony itself that made me nervous.

I have Ecuadorian roots and his are Irish and Polish, but both of us felt the same pressure. Many of our acquaintances, family members, and friends wanted us to have your typical Long Island bridezilla extravaganza: limos, pricey food, an army of guests, all-star photographers, exotic flowers. Más que todo: Money, money, money, money.

Instead, we chose an intimate ceremony at City Hall in Manhattan, becoming husband and wife in September of 2010. Needless to say, we experienced a bit of a backlash. Not only were we defying conventional American culture, we were also breaking away from Ecuadorian and Latino tradition.

As a Latina, weddings are the “Happily Ever After” in all novelas. After strife and obstacles, two people – in front of a priest and inside a church – are finally able to seal their love in the company of family and friends.  Of course, anyone who watches novelas knows that there’s always an evil twin brother lurking in the closet or an amnesia-provoking accident about to happen. So maybe soap operas aren’t the best examples around which to base our lifelong commitments.

For my parents, a wedding was important for other reasons. Growing up in a Latino household, spirituality played a pivotal role within our lives. We would attend Sunday mass every week. My parents were very serious about spirituality, so serious that they chose to wait for us to grow a little older in order to receive our sacraments. That way we would be conscious of what we were doing and appreciate the importance of it. So when my husband and I got married at city hall, they weren’t very happy about the decision.

As a second-generation Latina immigrant, I can see the influence of religion on my family, and, by extension, on me. In her article, “Fathering Latina Sexualities,” University of Texas Professor Gloria Gonzalez-Lopez hypothesizes that all Latino cultural traits can be understood through the prism of religion. So it’s not surprising that our families think that we should be getting married in a church, and not in a government office. I can imagine the voice going through my dad’s head: How can a family function without religion?

While I did not want to displease my parents, I also didn’t want to make a decision about this new lifelong commitment solely based on what they wanted. I asked myself what role faith played in my life—values of respect, family, tolerance, and humanism were all things I learned through the influence of religion. When I thought about it, religion had helped shape many of the core principles that I thought should serve as a guideline for starting a family. So when I acknowledged this part of my identity, I thought it made sense to have a spiritual ceremony. And, of course, my parents didn’t forget to remind me.

I spoke with my husband, and he agreed to the ceremony. We both thought that spirituality and religion would be an important foundation for our family, as it had been in mine. I wasn’t choosing a religious ceremony to be “queen for a day” or to have an over-priced celebration; I was embracing being a Latina.

When I explained our plan for a simple ceremony to our parish priest in Babylon, I thought he might be taken aback, since there wouldn’t be any lavish decorations or trappings. Instead, he seemed pleasantly surprised, saying, “That is what a marriage really is.”

This Article was first featured in Long Island Wins: http://www.longislandwins.com/index.php/culture/detail/a_culture_clash_at_the_altar_my_wedding_my_parents_and_being_latina/

To Latinos, CUNY’s Tuition Hikes means: Puertas Se Cierran!

As many Latinos can relate, the value of an education is held on very high regard within our families. Part of the reason why our families come to this country is to provide their children a fair opportunity to an education. My dad would tell my brother and I, “A uno le pueden quitar todo, pero la educacion, nadie pueden robarles.” However, is an opportunity to an education in this country simply becoming an illusion to many Latinos?

The City University of New York’s Board of Trustees (CUNY) voted to increase tuition by $300 each year through 2015. Two years ago, CUNY raised tuition by 14%, last Spring it increased by 6.2% and this past semester by 5%. These increases claim to be the results of the New York State’s Legislature’s decision to cut funding for CUNY & SUNY (The State University of New York). While the CUNY system remains to provide a prevalently low cost tuition compared to other public university systems nationwide it does not diminish the negative impact to the Latino community.

CUNY historically and currently represents society’s diversity. It was founded as an opportunity for individuals who could not or were not allowed to attain a higher education in New York. Founded in the early 20th Century, it provided a high quality and tuition-free education to the poor, working class, women and immigrants of New York.The occupation of City College by Puerto Rican and African-American students in the late seventies perpetuated an open admissions system, as well as remedial courses providing students from difficult socio-economic backgrounds additional preparation in order to enter CUNY’s system.

Where according to the CUNY Office of Institutional Research and Assessment released in April 2011,the total enrollment of Latino Undergraduate is 24%; Community College Enrollment is 36.6% and Graduate Latino Enrollment is 14.1%. Today, CUNY continues to provide a similar opportunity for many of New York City’s diverse population, including the Latino community. It serves as an affordable resource where many of us can reach some of the dreams our families yearned for as they migrated to this country. However, this dream seems to be coming to a close as cost of tuition rises.As a former undergraduate and graduate student of CUNY’s system, I look back to the struggles my parents and I went through. Overtime, two jobs while taking four courses; or Full-Time job while taking graduate courses formed a long and difficult road. Luckily, I reached my goal.

This road just came to an end two years ago for me. If it wasn’t for my family, myself, aid, loans and scholarships I would not have attained my degrees. Furthermore, as tuition rapidly increases, how would I have been able to keep up if I was still a student?As a student, I saw many of my academic classmates, many whom were Latinos drop out. Affordability was a considerable factor in their decision, not lack of desire to attain a degree. This increase will only result in an even more diminishing rate of enrollment. I will quote Colombiano, academic activist and lawyer Jose Luis Cordoba – “Por la ignorancia se deciende a la servidumbre, por la educación se asciende la libertad” (“Through ignorance one descends towards servitude, through education one ascends towards freedom”).

CUNY will be going against everything it was founded for — an equal opportunity to higher education for individuals who, socio-economically seem to stand as second-class citizens in our society.

CUNY is heavily made up of low-income and minority students, like Cinthya Simistetta and Julian Jimenez.

“I support myself, work full-time and take part-time classes. I am now forced to consider the possibility of two jobs in order to attain an education. One job barely let’s me get by on my daily cost of living (bills, food, rent),” expressed Simistetta. “It’s unfair that my opportunity at attaining an education, which I believe should be a human right, is facing another maybe impossible obstacle.”

The day after the Board of Trustees approved the CUNY Tuition Hikes, Simistetta received a letter informing her of these rises in tuition. In the same letter they affirmed that Hunter College remains one of the most affordable CUNY schools. While Hunter confirms these ongoing hikes have served the College positively, she has yet to see the positive investment.

Their investments such as providing healthy (and very expensive) food and modernized cafeteria is not what she considers as a positive investment.

“While many day students utilize this service, evening students do not. And bathrooms still do not work,” said Simistetta, who is the first person in her family to attempt to attain a Higher Education.

Julian Jimenez, an Engineering student from Borough of Manhattan Community College, is not feeling that there will be a positive change in the school with the Tuition Hikes.

“My school is part of the CUNY system; therefore, the hikes have to affect my school one-way or another. Yet they do not have the funds to hire more professors to teach classes needed by students. Which in turn makes students spend more time in school in order to graduate. And I ask myself: How is that positive?” said Julian. “The fact that they are going to keep raising tuition, is leading me to go somewhere else.”

Article Featured in LatinBlah! @ http://www.latinblah.com/2011/12/13/to-latinos-cunys-tuition-hikes-means-puertas-se-cierran/

Latino Political Power Starts at the Dinner Table

Some kids I knew watched sitcoms or MTV after dinner.

Not me.

My brother and I knew that once 6pm hit, no matter what we would be watching, we’d have to tune into the news. I could not quite understand why my father would make us watch or read about politics, especially before I reached my teenage years. If it was up to me, I would have been watching The Wayans Bros.

Part of the reason my parents put on the news had to do with their educational experience back in Ecuador. Like primary and secondary school students in many other Latin-American countries, they were required to take a civics class, meant to teach them about the workings of government and the role they could play toward progress and social betterment.

The message of those classes stuck with my parents, even if the Ecuadorian government didn’t always live up to classroom standards. My father felt that if we understood the political landscape, we would feel a sense of responsibility to do our part in making sure our country moves forward in a socially responsible manner.

However, current events aren’t the only things that shape my opinions and concerns. I also cared deeply about family and community. With politicians promoting anti-immigrant policies and xenophobia – opposed to actual reform – I feel an obligation to consider the greater Latino community, not just my own interests.

Like many children of Latino immigrants born in this country, I witnessed the social and economic struggles my parents went through on a daily basis. I was exposed to this reality at a young age, giving me a sense of familial responsibility, a cultural trait that I’ve seen many times over in other Latino and immigrant families, regardless of country of origin or economic status. Whether I was interpreting, filling out forms, or attending doctor’s appointments, I became aware of how government and its institutions work – or don’t work – to serve immigrant communities.

In this respect, our sense of advocacy transcends politics. To borrow a phrase from gender activists, I would say that within our Latino culture, the personal is political. Issues of immigration, healthcare, labor, and education aren’t just up for debate – they’re issues that affect our families directly.

We cannot solely blame government for ignoring Latinos. We should also hold ourselves accountable. While we are the largest ethnic minority in the United States and our voting population is 9.7 million, only 50 percent of eligible Latino voters actually vote! We live in a democratic country where we have a chance to make our voice heard at the polls, but the Latino voting population has not done its part. So how can we expect government to address our concerns when we don’t turn out for elections?

Once I turned 18, instead of voting before work, my father would wait for me in the evening and we would take a trip to the election polls as a family. Even now that I am married and living on Long Island, when election time comes around he will not forget to ask, “Ya votastes mija?” or “You already voted?”

I realize that it’s easier for me to remember to vote because I grew up with a civic-minded father. But as I think about the Latino voting population in the US, which continues to increase by about 500,000 every year, I hope that parents across the country are nagging their kids on election day, changing the channel to the news at 6pm, and teaching our next generation about the power of their vote.

(This post was first featured in Long Island Wins http://longislandwins.com/index.php/features/detail/latino_political_power_starts_at_the_dinner_table/)

Domestic Worker Protections Should Extend Beyond New York

This past week, the Labor and Industrial Relations Committee in the California State Senate voted in favor of a domestic workers bill of rights that would provide basic labor protections for those workers in California.

Now the legislation will move to the Fiscal Committee; if approved, the entire State Senate will then vote on it.

As California’s domestic workers struggle to attain basic labor rights, I recall my master’s fieldwork spent studying the work of the New York City-basedDomestic Workers United in February 2010.

The organization traveled to Albany once or twice a month to lobby for theDomestic Workers Bill of Rights in New York State. During one trip I was given the opportunity to serve as an interpreter for a group of women.

As I walked down the halls of the capital building with the group, I clearly recall one woman who was not able to catch up. I remember asking myself, “Why does she walk so slow? Is she scared? Does she not want to be here?”

I found the answer later that day as I interpreted her story about abuses she suffered as a domestic worker.

She was forced to clean on her knees for hours, and now she could barely walk due to the excruciating pain she felt both in her knees and her feet. She endured verbal abuse while braving seven-day workweeks, with each day’s work lasting more than eight hours. Not only was she underpaid at her job, she was eventually fired with no warning.

Her basic rights were being violated yet there was no legislation protecting her and the approximately 200,000 other domestic workers in New York. My voice shook in an attempt to hold back tears as I had to translate her story for our meeting with a group of state senators.

That’s when I realized the importance of the Domestic Workers Bill of Rights, which was eventually signed into law in August 2010 by Governor Paterson.

The domestic work industry has become a robust foundation in today’s economy. As women have taken on an active role in what were once exclusively male workplaces, families have increasingly sought the services of domestic workers. And in the wake of the economic crisis, this industry has become highly susceptible to exploitation.

That’s why the bill of rights was so important. It grants basic rights to a historically excluded group of workers: The right to overtime pay, the right to at least one day of rest each week, the right to protection against any form of harassment under New York State law.

In the fight over domestic worker rights, we can see issues of ethnicity, gender, and immigration intertwine.

Many domestic workers – nannies, housekeepers, and caregivers for the elderly – are women of color. Many of them are immigrants. However, these women are often not viewed as regular workers. Due to the nature of the work, these jobs are perceived more as the duty of the woman, a holdover from a time when women were bound to the privacy of their homes.

Domestic work has been historically linked to particular socio-economic groups, such as indentured servants, slaves, or immigrants. In our current era of globalization, the work has often become a form of modern-day slavery, using immigrants, particularly Caribbean and Latina women, to provide the labor.

Considering this long history of mistreatment, I knew there would be opposition to the Domestic Workers Bill of Rights in New York. Prominent Republican leaders in the State Senate wouldn’t support the bill, including Long Island’s Owen Johnson (R-West Babylon) and John Flanagan (R-East Northport), saying they were reluctant to pass a piece of legislation protecting undocumented immigrants.

In their opposition, they failed to recognize the economic and social need for domestic workers on Long Island. They also ignored the motivations of the workers, many of whom are forced to migrate to the US because of free trade, privatization, and the extraction of agricultural and industrial labor in their countries of origin. Instead, these workers are label “illegal,” marginalized in our society, and thus susceptible to abuse and exploitation.

Who can forget Muttontown’s Mahender and Varsha Sabhani, a millionaire couple who enslaved two immigrant domestic workers for five years? The couple forced the victims to work long hours, starved them, and beat and tortured them.

Thanks to the passage of the Domestic Workers Bill of Rights, horrific cases like that can now be brought to the courts or reported to our labor department. Regardless of immigration status, workers can report abusive employers who violate their rights.

New York has already taken a vital step toward recognizing domestic workers and the importance of their contributions within our labor market, regardless of race, gender or immigration status. Now let’s stand by California, and aspire to see such a bill passed in every state.

(This post was first featured in Long Island Wins http://www.longislandwins.com/index.php/features/detail/domestic_worker_protections_should_extend_beyond_new_york/)

For Same-Sex Couples Trapped by the Immigration System, Marriage Equality in New York Isn’t Enough

Within the Latino community, especially back in our countries of descent, homosexuality can be handled as taboo—you know it exists, but you do not talk about it. In most Latin American countries, religion is quite important and shapes the values of many families, creating a sense of animosity towards the LGBT communities.

My parents are from Ecuador, and during a trip there nine years ago, I met individuals who kept their orientation a secret but would ask me how their lifestyle would be perceived in the US. Based on what I told them, they expressed their utmost desire to one day live in New York. This was their American Dream.

In a few weeks, LGBT couples in New York will be able to walk into City Hall and say, “I do,” thanks to the Marriage Equality Act, a law that was recently passed with the support of Governor Cuomo and a majority of New York State’s elected officials.

The mere thought fills me with excitement, even anxiety, at what awaits—New York State, a symbol of equality. It makes me feel good just to write that.

Unfortunately, this historic victory won’t change the way federal law regards LGBT couples, in New York or any other state, and it won’t help such couples enjoy the same rights afforded to their heterosexual counterparts.

Soon after marriage equality passed in New York, I started hearing about another piece of legislation: The Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA).

Signed in 1996 by President Bill Clinton, the act recognizes the institution of marriage as a union between a man and a woman, denying LGBT couples the federal status given to heterosexual spouses.

Not only does the Defense of Marriage Act block marriage equality legislation on a federal level, it grants states the right to not recognize same-sex marriages conducted by other states.

But that’s not all. The law also keeps LGBT spouses from applying for citizenship in the way that a heterosexual spouse could.

It’s no accident that our immigration laws target LGBT couples. Just look at our immigration system’s history of discrimination over sexual-orientation:

The Immigration Act of 1917 placed openly homosexual immigrants under the classification of “mentally defective,” and the amended Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 linked homosexuality to “sexual deviation,” enacting a closed door policy to any openly gay immigrant.

The Immigration Act of 1990 eventually made legal immigration possible for openly homosexual immigrants, but that still doesn’t account for same-sex couples who want their spouses to join them in the US.

Since the Defense of Marriage Act does not recognize same-sex marriages, one same-sex spouse cannot file for permanent residency for his or her partner, perpetually ostracizing those couples based on their sexual orientation.

Anyone who studies social issues knows that policies and problems tend to be linked to one another. Immigration and LGBT rights are a perfect example.

Immigrants today, regardless of their sexual orientation, share the aspirations that newcomers throughout history have expressed – the desire for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

For me, it all comes back to the people who I met in Ecuador. One particular guy who I met was living in secret. When I asked him what came next, he said “nothing.” He planned to eventually marry a woman and have children. He would be stuck living in the shadows, only able to dream of a different life in the US.

As a country, we should be proud that members of LGBT communities abroad look upon us in such a positive light. Let’s try to live up to that reputation, and support changes to our immigration system that will give long overdue equal rights to LGBT couples.

(This post was first featured in Long Island Wins: http://www.longislandwins.com/index.php/features/detail/for_same-sex_couples_trapped_by_the_immigration_system_marriage/)

Un Blanquito+Una Latina in a modern day world??

Interracial relationships and marriages are a topic that people choose not to talk about, instead many just choose to quietly judge or gawk at it. As long as it does not hit close to home, it will be a subject untouched for most. Based on a Gallup research, 83% of Americans approve interracial relationships/marriages however only about 8% of marriages are interracial. If most people seem to "approve" of it then why such a scarce number? If racism is allegedly diminishing from our melting pot society why such an obvious hesitation to approach a racially blind relationship?...My answer to this, interracial relationships continue being a taboo within our society.

Before 1967, interracial marriages and relationships were a cultural abomination within the United States. Interracial marriages and relationships were considered illegal by law. These laws were initially introduced within the thirteen colonies and continually enforced in states such as Virginia (the Racial Integrity Act of 1924) and Alabama -- all until 1967's Loving v. Virginia case. A white man and an African & Native American woman were married in DC in 1958; they were Virginia natives and were both caught sleeping in bed by officers who were defending the Integrity Act . They were thus sentenced to prison for one year that in turn was suspended as long as they left the state. After the ACLU filed a motion on their behalf, the Supreme Court ruled against any law throughout the nation which enforced anti-miscegenation.

Today, many fear to be labeled racist and choose to quietly disapprove of such a relationship while expressing progressive views publicly. However, there are groups in which attempt to digress back towards the anti-miscegenation laws. Such is the case in Mississippi -- A poll conducted by the Public Policy Polling announced that 49% of Mississippi residents desire to have interracial marriages/relationships banned. In Lousiana a Justice of the Peace, Keith Bardwell, refused to marry any interracial couple. The resistance to interracial marriages/relationships does not only come from one group. People of other backgrounds also perceive interracial marriages/relationships unseen for many reasons that may be similar to that of white groups. They might perceive it as a form of betrayal or selling out.

I am married to what many Latinos would call a, Blanquito/Gringo/Zuco/Colorado, in plain English - a white boy. However, when I met him, he was just another human being who soon became my partner. I am a Latina, very ethnic looking at that so walking down the streets of New York City we did get some looks of curiousity, some of disapproval from both sides. Walking down the streets of Babylon Village, there were the same looks however in a predominantly white community dissaproval was a bit more obvious and well, pissed me off. One day we were both curious with what each side was thinking. I tried so hard not to pre-judge many of the white people's stares and he felt the same way about Latinos. As we exchanged our thoughts and what our cultures were quietly thinking we both came to the conclusion that some things have yet to change...

I told him some Latinas or Latinos look for white partners to move up socially and even economically within society, this is not a generalization just cases I have seen and heard personally. Therefore others within our community consider that a form of selling out which of course I would agree because searching for someone based upon race is racist in its own matter. Others would feel its a form of betrayal to our community; a lack of solidarity and embarrassment of where one comes from, their identity. I have also had friends who have asked me, "What? No good Latin men?" and my answer would be "I'm sure there are, but I don't require a Racial ID". From his side, he made me aware that ignorance continues to exist filled with stereotypes and some that coincide with some of my community's misperceptions. He made me aware that while many looks might be curious looks, others were of disapproval. Individuals might think its a step down from the social ladder. A white man rescuing a latina from the ghetto. Therefore she must be somewhat un-educated, have an accent and maybe even not documented.

As we both confirmed the world has not caught up to present day, we both knew it would be a little harder since we both had to educate others down this path and continue doing so. I speak Spanish fluently and as many of you know my identity has a solid foundation. I don't have an accent, I love the skin I'm in and am very proud, I hold a Master's Degree and can hold a conversation with anyone. As for my husband, no he did not save me from any ghetto (I did not need any saving from anything; I love where I came from). He eats latin dishes, dances, speaks a little Spanish -- ultimately respecting my identity as I respect his.

Interracial marriages/relationships are quite the taboo however, its a taboo because there is a small amount as it requires a little more work due to the societal pressures that exist. But what's taboo is not necessarily wrong....

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Marcelo Lucero - You are remembered...

As a Latina but most of all an Ecuadorean American, Marcelo Lucero will always share a part of my identity. On November 8, 2008, this Ecuadorian immigrant was beaten and stabbed to his death by seven teenagers in Patchogue, Long Island. As Mr. Lucero was walking to a friend’s house, these teenagers who were “Beaner-Hopping” confused him as a Mexican, beat him and with a stab in the chest, killed him. Regardless of the assumption made by Suffolk County’s Executive Steve Levy, his death was not a “One Day Story”. Instead it has opened a Pandora’s Box which can no longer be ignored.

Post World War II, Long Island attracted manufacturing jobs. But in the ‘90’s the decrease of the industry made room for private sector jobs. As the industry expanded so did residents’ incomes and so did their need for low-wage labor. Service industries within restaurants, landscaping, construction and domestic work aided Long Island’s economy but enforced an informal labor market consisting of predominantly Latino immigrants.

Latinos compose 12% of the Long Island population, pronouncing itself the largest minority. Most of them low-wage workers, endure long hours, unsafe working conditions, low wages and no job security. Individuals such as Marcelo Lucero were a part of this community. Latino immigrants have forged an essential role within Suffolk County, but their “status” marginalizes them from the rest of society thus conceding to a sense of vulnerability. The lack of proper immigration reform has permitted hate crimes and exploitative practices towards our community. And has forcibly silenced many.

This “silence” is no conundrum. Their “illegal” status silences them out of fear. Fear not only of the people around them but of politicians. Politicians who have and are adding fuel to the fire. Politicians who stereotype and avidly express anti-immigrant sentiment and support for legislation promoting such, teach their followers the same. The only difference is that through ignorance; hate, xenophobia, racism or whatever one chooses to call it will reflect through violence. And if politicians are against the community, then “silence” is the best option. But this should not be their, our only choice or even a choice at all.

The term “illegal” should not be used as a way of setting a community aside and placing them in the shadows of silence. The lack of legality in this country should not dehumanize them. Everyone is entitled to the right to life. Regardless of color, race, sex, gender, status…we are all human beings and have a place in this world. Marcelo Lucero had one as well as many of the Marcelo Luceros in Suffolk County, Long Island, New York State…the United States. We all have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

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