I the first time I was interviewed by a Mexican newspaper. I had recently arrived in Tucson, Ariz., to accept a reporting job for KGTV, the ABC . Tucson is situated about 40 miles north of the U.S.-Mexico border so covering big stories in México and along the border region was part of my beat.
They wanted to do a profile piece on the new Latina reporter.
Our Mexican counterparts in Nogales, Sonora, were friendly with Latino reporters working on the U.S. side. During that interview the Mexican journalist asked me my nationality and when I responded “Mexican,” she looked at me rather strangely. “Where were you born?” she asked. “Chicago,” I answered proudly.
“Then you are not Mexican, you are American.” she protested. I feeling rather slighted. Later that night, I called my father, telling him the story. “Well mija, she’s right. You are Mexican American.”
It seems the more time I’ve spent covering stories along the borders of Arizona and California my eyes were opened to the fact that I am not a Mexican national. While my abuelos were all born in different states in Mexico, and even some of my tíos and tías were born in México, we did not bring all of our Mexican culture, language or tradition with us when we settled in the United States.
My parents and siblings in Chicago did not celebrate el 16 de septiembre as much as we did Fourth of July.
I know many other Mexican and Chicano families today here in the U.S. who celebrate one holiday but not the other, and, yes, some who celebrate both.
As the younger generations mix and blend, Mexican parents have to make a conscious decision to instill Mexican culture and language into their daily lives and include it in their own family history if they want the children to hold those traditions in their heart.
It reminds me of the famous line in the movie “Selena,” where Edward James Olmos’ character says, “We gotta know about John Wayne and Pedro Infante. We gotta know about Frank Sinatra and Augustin Lara. We gotta know about Oprah and Cristina.”
My orgullo is alive and well and ready to celebrate el 16 de septiembre. I think of my ancestors and urge my own children to know and cherish their identity, and language.
Having married Juan Luis, a proud Mexican national, for me, el grito is more than just a shot of tequila at a restaurant or in our household. We have participated in the events at the Consulado General de Mexico en San Diego over the years. On the 16th, we will honor the holiday in one way or another.
¡Viva México! Let Mexico’s fight for freedom forever ring on both sides of the border.
Castañeda is deputy editor of The San Diego Union-Tribune editorial and opinion section and lives in Chula Vista.
