I love being a Cuban American. My husband and I would always be surprised (and joked about) just how different our cultures were… who knew?!? I always considered myself “American”, but the Cuban influence made our marriage quite the learning/teaching experience. It was great… and challenging!
I love the violeta smell, the pastelitos, the loud, passionate, loving attributes that accompany everything, Cuban. I enjoy the traditions, the food, the connection to family, and the music. My goodness… the music! Between the horns, bongos, these ardent lyrical achievements that numerous artists have recorded, and the Afro-Cuban beats; it’s intoxicating.
But…
Let the record show… there are a few things of my Cuban culture that I have been intentional with eliminating. Things (attributes) that my husband did not have. This, further solidified for me, exactly WHY I do not like some components of my heritage. Components which are deeply embedded into the Miami/Cuban/Latino culture, such as:
1. The Machista BS that some Cuban men have.
My boys have been raised to respect women, to do chores, and to be gentlemen. To not treat sex as a game, or a sport, and never a conquest… but, I have talked to them about sex being a beautiful, special, and an intimate experience that God gifted humanity with. Afterall, ALL good things come from God. They have been taught that if God sees fit to make them husbands someday, that they should love, nurture, encourage, support, and spiritually lead their brides and families. They know that men are not “better” than women. Women were not created to serve men. Women are designed to be helpers… but can’t do all the heavy-lifting, and who the heck wants to help anyone that does not want to help themselves?! I pray that the outdated sexist Cuban macho-man BS is not passed down to any of my sons.
2. The “what will people think” aspect of Cuban Culture.
I give NO CRAPS what other people think. If you’re not paying my bills…. Byeeeeee.
3. The “pretend-everything-is-fine” thing…
Yeah… nope. Everything is not always “fine” and if I’m not vulnerable with people, they will not be vulnerable with me, thus causing a fakeness that I absolutely cannot tolerate. I cry, I laugh too loudly, I’ll be mad when I’m mad, I reminisce openly about the beautiful relationship my husband and I shared, and I’ll be candid about how sometimes being a mom isn’t all that great. I will also be transparent, I have NO problem sharing where I’m weak, where I’ve faltered, talking about the horrible choices and mistakes I’ve made in the past… it’s all done with the hope that me, and the person (or people) I’m being real with, can someday have REAL conversations, about things that actually matter and are important.
I’m personally of the opinion that if we choose to remain at superficial levels with others because we are more concerned with guarding or protecting ourselves from emotional hardships; then, can we ever really deep-dive into the parts of us that help us see and talk about truth?
After experiencing the loss of my person, and subsequent shenanigans (my, shenanigans that I’ll 100% own) me and my kids have had some very honest, and hard discussions. We’ve grown closer (I think) out of experiences that could’ve torn us apart. I really do believe that love, authenticity, and honesty, helped. So, I’ve chosen to live in such a way and express myself in a manner that perhaps isn’t very popular or comfortable for everyone. It is not my intent to make anyone (but me) uncomfortable. But… I want to live a life that honors Christ. Therefore, in my weakness HE is strong. If I pretend, I’m never weak; then, when is HE strong? If HIS grace is sufficient, but I pretend to be all the sufficiency I need; then, where’s HIS grace? If I pretend to be strong enough to pull myself out of situations, or save myself; then, when do I point to HIS salvation and provision?
I love a lot of things about the passion and heat that comes with the Cuban culture and the upbringing I was blessed enough to have, the influence of the city that molded me, my beautiful Miami. Then again, I love a lot of what I learned from my husband’s journey, he was born in Michigan raised in the not-Miami parts of Florida, his culture and his family’s upbringing resulted in the man of my dreams… so something about that was very right. Perhaps, providing our kids with multiple layers of culture, and working through the challenges we did face in blending together our lives, results in a more evolved Cuban-American experience for our kids. Even our “gringo”, Chris’s son, was exposed to the intensity that a Cuban-momma brings to a kid’s world. He was exposed to a different culture too.
I’m so grateful for the privilege and honor of being part of a blended home. It was a perspective I had never had, a challenge I never wanted, and an experience I can never forget.
Sometimes cultures clash, at times they compliment one another, and at other times we can surely dissect them and pick and choose what we want to pass on to the next generation. Regardless, all of our different experiences are beautiful, IF we choose to accept that not everything was perfect and, that, that’s ok.