The Evolution of a New Culture

I was running around with the rest of my cousins as an accomplice to their mischief, while the women cooked our lavish dinner, and the men sat around talking about politics as they took sips of their Scotch. We all gathered around the table and helped ourselves to a banquet of appetizers, salads, pork, beef, turkey, lentils, bread, and of course our staples, rice, and plantains. After dinner, we all danced in the living room to Latin ‘Cumbia’ music.

At midnight, the adults accompanied us, kids, outside for the burning of the ‘Año Viejo’. The literal translation is ‘The Old Year’, but it is represented by a stuffed dummy full of fireworks and hung on a post like a scarecrow. The tradition of burning the dummy every New Year’s Eve symbolizes the burning away of the old year and starting anew. Interestingly, it’s also meant as a low-key jab and protest against the corrupt politicians by the people.

As the night progressed the grown-ups shared in a time of guitar playing, old folksong singing, and even poetry. Soon after, I had fallen asleep for the night.

This treasured memory of such a special time with my family in Ecuador will forever be branded in my mind. The warm, festive, and joyful ambience of food, family, and music, is typical of my culture.

In our culture, you cook for people to show them love.

I was born and raised in Southern California around my Ecuadorian family. My parents would drop my sister and I off at my grandparent’s house just as my aunt would do with my cousins. My grandparents took us all to school, picked us up, fed us, and took care of us at their house until our parents picked us up after work. Having spent a large part of my childhood with them shaped part of who I am.

My grandparents taught us to be proud of our heritage; to not only preserve our Spanish language but to speak it correctly. No ‘Spanglish’ was allowed, or they’d snap at us. I certainly learned about our cuisine by watching my grandmother cook every day. Cooking Ecuadorian food now is ‘comfort food’ to me. While I enjoy the deliciousness of the food, more importantly, it transports me back to an edifying time in my life full of nurturing love from my grandma. In our culture, you cook for people to show them love.

The Challenges of growing up American

Growing up American with such deep ethnic roots has had its challenges. My life has been a cultural balancing act; a journey of picking and choosing the best traits from each culture and making it my own.

While I love my Ecuadorian culture, it’s not perfect, but nothing ever is. From a very young age, I was taught ‘Family comes first’ and ‘Never go against the family’, almost to a fault. I learned it meant I was to turn a blind eye to anything wrong my family did. Loyalty meant always siding with family over friends even when they were being unreasonable.

It never made sense to me. Impartiality and justice took precedence over family ties and is something I learned to value from the American culture.

Mental health was taboo in our culture. To seek professional help from a psychologist implied subtle shame. It was never actually verbalized. But the subject of anxiety and depression was never openly discussed. The irony is they run in my family. When I encountered it, after realizing it was hampering my life, I decided to seek the proper help without giving any thought to its former stigma.

The Expectations

In Ecuadorian culture, it is expected that adult children live with their parents until they get married. It’s also assumed that daughters will be married by the time they graduate from college. Traditional gender roles are also prevalent; the woman being in charge of domestic duties from cooking, laundry, cleaning, etc. while the man takes care of the yard, car maintenance, taking out the trash, and home repairs.

I moved out of my parents’ house right before graduating college and I’m glad I did. Breaking out of this expectation made me a 100% independent young adult and I was proud of it. I didn’t receive a dime from my dad after that. I worked a part-time job while completing my bachelor’s degree and was immediately hired as a full-time employee allowing me to pay my rent, utilities, car insurance, and necessities.

I was certainly not married right after college. I had a life to discover after having immersed myself only in studying for the last few years. My family started asking me the dreaded “When are you going to get married?” question in my late 20s. After dismissing it well into my 30s they stopped asking. I didn’t marry until I turned 40. It wasn’t out of rebellion; that’s just how it played out for me.

Being married now, I have automatically taken on the domestic responsibilities of our household. While I believe it would be ideal for both spouses to share chores, I don’t mind doing all of it now since I have a lot more time than my husband does. I also enjoy cooking for him and having the care-taker role because, for me, it’s an act of love.

Having children is also very important in my culture. Children are considered the highest blessing even over wealth. Shortly after getting married, as expected, my family asked about kids. All we can continue saying is, “We’re trying.” Having the importance of family embedded in my DNA makes the struggle of infertility that much more difficult. But I’ve learned that having peace with it can only come from letting go of what I can’t control.

Education

In my extended family, the expectation of women obtaining advanced college degrees or scientific degrees is not common. One reason for this is the belief that a woman who pursues higher education will neglect her children as a result. My aunt obtained a master’s degree and a Ph.D., and I remember my grandparents discouraging her when she first brought it up. To them, being the best mother took priority over furthering her education. In this regard, I observed the initiation of my family’s progression in America from my aunt.

Women are also thought of as fit for liberal studies college degrees. As a result of my dad’s influence and investment in me, I took a different route and went on to pursue a degree in Civil Engineering. Once I reached my upper-division classes, I was the only female student and when I started working, I was the only Hispanic female engineer. I chose to break away from this stereotype, just as my cousin did by becoming a physician in Los Angeles.

Take-Away

My identity is a blend of values I hold near to my heart that comes from my immigrant family and culture, as well as from my precious country, the United States. I love that I hold the fervency of my Ecuadorian roots while embracing the American standards of social freedom. I’ve created a new culture that defines who I am now.

And that’s the beauty of the United States. Regardless of which countries we’ve immigrated from, we have the power to choose who we want to become. We have the freedom to preserve what means the most to us from our native countries. And we can celebrate the rich diversity this country consists of.

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