The Creation of Blended Identity

The main characters in Bless Me, Ultima, Dreaming in Cuban, and Bodega Dreams are all in the process of personal transition, creating a mature and new identity that borrows elements from their families and cultures of origin as well as draws from the way in which they experience being an individual in contemporary American culture.  As we look more closely at these journeys we can see that family, friends, and special mentors are most influential in the shaping of Latino characters from these various cultures of origin. 

Rafael Falcon, in Reflection of my Essence, illustrates a personal reflection of identity and how various elements from one’s family and culture of origin play a vital role in how he sees himself.  In his first paragraph he describes in himself a mixture of races, Indian, Spanish, African, and how they come together to form a unique and beautiful whole.  When he looks deep into himself, the geographical boundaries of countries melt away, and cherished treasures of Latino and Puerto Rican culture surface (line 13).  Falcon describes how various elements, family and friends, memories, culture, history, come together to form a unique heritage that captures his identity and his very essence. 

In Bless Me, Ultima, we read about the personal journey of Antonio, a small child who lives near Guadalupe, New Mexico with his mother, father, and two older sisters.  He also has three older brothers who return from fighting in the war later in the book.  Antonio, or Toni, experiences life in a new way as he feels the nudging of his father and mother’s different wishes for his future, as significant events take place, and as Ultima, his healer, kindred spirit and mentor, comes into his life, guides him through and makes him aware of the aspects of his heritage that make him who he is.  Throughout the book Toni is in the process of gathering the pieces of his life and welding them together into a formation he recognizes as his own multicultural identity.

From the beginning of Toni’s history there was the Lunas and the Marez.  These conflicting cultures within his family that date back hundreds of years, are deeply part of Toni’s essence.  Where his mother and father call home is integral to who Toni is and where he feels called to go in his life. 

His mother’s family, the Lunas, are farmers, and they influence Toni’s perception of the earth.  His mother, being a Luna, never understood or accepted his father’s people, the wandering vaqueros, or cowboys, of the Llano.  “But you will not be like them,” she says on page 10.  “You will be like my brothers.  You will be a Luna, Antonio.  You will be a man of the people, and perhaps a priest.”  But Toni is confused, unsure of how much of himself is Luna, and how much is Marez.  He feels torn between the differing hopes of his mother and father regarding his future.  Early on in the book Toni has a dream about the events surrounding his birth.  The Lunas and Marez quarreled over him, even in his infancy (6).

Through the book Toni asks questions and learns about the Lunas and the Marez.  Ultima helps him gain insight into these conflicting sides of his family.  She informs him, “It is in the blood of the Lunas to be quiet.”  They are quiet as the moon is quiet.  She says only a quiet man is capable of learning the earth’s secrets, to interact with the earth and plant seeds that will grow and flourish.  But the Marez blood, Toni learns, boils like the ocean, from where they take their name.  It is part of their nature to be wild and free, and so it is the Llano they call their home (44).  Only in those open plains lies the true freedom that their hearts and spirits need (2). 

Toni feels a strong connection to both sides of his family.  When he goes to visit his Uncles on the Luna side, they teach him about farming and he helps them harvest their crops.  He learns the ways in which they communicate with the land.  As Ultima teaches him to listen to the river and to the pulse of the land, he begins to appreciate his Luna side of his family more, and he sees and respects this within himself.  He also enjoys and loves his Catholic religion.  His mother, his Luna side, brings this out in him as they pray to the Virgin of Guadalupe everyday and go to Mass.  Toni loves the Virgin of Guadalupe more than anyone else and knows her forgiveness to be an inspiring miracle (47).  This exposure to faith allows him to struggle with questions about God, forgiveness, heaven and hell. 

Toni’s identity is strongly tied to the character of Ultima, Toni’s special mentor.  Through Ultima Toni learns many things about life.  She shows him the beauty of the land, the gurgling river and the turning earth (1).  He experiences the Llano in a way he never has before.  He learns about his faith, about relationships, and in all this he pieces together a new identity in which he understands himself to be part of the land.  “Through her,” he says, “I learned my spirit shared in the spirit of all things” (16). 

Ultima teaches Toni that God is alive and everywhere.  Though Toni knows about faith, she opens up his eyes and his mind to the realm of the spirit world (viii).  This realm then becomes a part of him.  It shows through in his sense of the land, the way he interacts with his friends, the questions he asks (like when he wonders about Lupito’s soul on page 44) and the dreams he has throughout the novel.  Even when Toni first meets Ultima he feels in his entire being that she holds his destiny, his future, in her hands (12-13). 

Ultima is part of the history of curanderas that have been part of Mexican culture for 400 years, and she makes Toni aware of where this ancient tradition comes from (ix).  Ultima teaches Toni about the history of medicine use and how herbs and remedies were borrowed from various ancient cultures like the Mayas, Aztecs, and the Indians from the Rio del Norte.  As Toni experiences Ultima healing his Uncle and various characters in the book, he becomes more in touch with the traditions of his culture of origin.  The curandera culture, however, does not fit easily with Catholicism, and Toni must work out what he believes about God, healing, miracles and faith. 

Toni struggles with his identity throughout the novel.  He questions what he believes about Catholicism, forgiveness, heaven and hell, who he is and what his future will be.  Toni loves his father and mother, and the different histories and cultures of Luna and Marez that they embody.  He loves the Llano and river, but knows he is neither.  Early on in the novel he finds himself wondering which side he will choose (44).  As Toni’s life moves forward, he comes to know himself as a beautiful blend of both Luna and Marez, and realizes he does not have to be restricted by old traditions or by the past, but can move forward with a new personal identity.

In Dreaming in Cuban, the journey of Pilar exemplifies the shaping and changing of personal identity in a struggle to combine different aspects of her family.  In the beginning, Pilar’s identity is strongly tied to her grandmother and mentor, Celia, and she dreams of returning home to Cuba in the hope that she may pick up the pieces of herself she feels are left there.  As her grandmother’s dreams are correlated with her own, she draws from these ties, their shared dreams and their similarities, as she searches for who she is.  Based on who her mother is, Pilar also determines who she does not want to be, and adds those pieces to her collection of Self.   

Pilar desperately wants to return to Cuba, to her grandmother Celia.  She is fed up with her life in New York, fed up with her mother’s restrictions, her father’s dishonesty, her hovering nursemaids – she is fed up with it all (25).  She believes she will find personal freedom in Cuba in a way she has not found in America. 

For Pilar, returning to Cuba with her mother is a homecoming, but it is different than she imagined.  Her perception of her grandmother changes, and even in her first moments reunited with her mentor, she is made aware of her incredible vulnerability (217).  She realizes that her grandma’s identity lies solely with her past, which is a difficult, scary and painful reality to deal with. 

During the trip, Pilar finds that she almost becomes disconnected from her grandmother rather than forming a tighter and stronger connection.  A reoccurring image of Grandma Celia underwater, calling out to her, sticks to the walls of her mind, but in this vision she cannot hear Celia when she calls (220).  When Pilar listens to her grandma Celia speak of her lost lover, she realizes that Celia’s history drowns her and restricts her from truly living. 

Pilar still enjoys spending time with her grandmother.  It is what she needed.  But as her visit goes on, she comes to realize that her dreams are for her future instead of for her past.  During this trip, this homecoming, Pilar disentangles herself from her grandmother, and also begins to make peace with who her mom is.  As this happens, Pilar discovers herself in a new light.  The painful pasts of her mother and grandmother are important to Pilar’s identity, but as she gains a healthy distance from them, she begins to have a better view of who she is. 

In the end Pilar molds different elements of her life together to form her new sense of self.  This includes her Cuban identity and the histories of her mother and grandmother that are tied to that place, and her dreams to be an artist who depicts the colors of the world around her.  She grew up living in New York for all but two years of her life, and so the majority of her life she has experienced the world as a Latina.  In combining all of these aspects of her life, Pilar creates a unique, blended self-identity.

In Bodega Dreams, the character of Chino goes through personal transition and finds a new identity from combining attributes he admires in his mentor, Willie Bodega, the things he admires in his close friend, Sapo, and his hopes and dreams for his family.  He also draws from Nuyorican culture and the spirit and personality of Spanish Harlem for which he develops hopes and dreams. 

Chino admires Willie Bodega for his blended identity and his dreams for the future of Spanish Harlem.  Bodega was able to drag himself up and out of the shadows of the streets and shed his past in a way Chino himself wishes he could (13).  Chino notes that Bodega is a wonderful combination of “nobility” and “street” (85).  Being a drug lord, Bodega embodies all the ugliness of Spanish Harlem, yet in his dream for its potential success and beauty he captures all the good Spanish Harlem is capable of (14). 

One of Chino’s biggest worries is providing for his family.  He wants to be a family man, wants to give his unborn child his own room, his wife a nice apartment, and wishes he could provide the luxuries of a richer life than the life they have now.  All of that takes money, which Chino earns by saving what he makes working at a grocery store.  Even with Blanca working a job, they do not have enough to afford the luxuries that Chino wants to give, and in his desire to provide for his family he becomes entangled in the drug money of the streets.  This, interestingly enough, leads him to Bodega, but it also gets Sapo steadily involved in his life again. 

Blanca does not like Sapo at all, and warns Chino about getting involved with the tainted money of the streets.  Blanca, like Chino’s mother, does not understand the special relationship between Sapo and Chino.  She does not understand what it means to be a pana to someone.  It was Chino’s father who understood the importance of having someone there to watch your back, to protect you and your name (10). 

The tension between his wife and his best friend is difficult for Chino and creates a struggle within him that builds character.  His childhood memories are times with Sapo, watching each other’s backs, getting into fights, and earning their names (11).  His adult life is filled with incredible moments with his wife Blanca as they fell in love, got married, and worked to form new people.  Chino acknowledges that it is important to have people there as you grow and change, and Blanca was there for him (13). 

These two very different people who are so important to Chino represent two worlds that are closely tied, yet separate.  It is hard for Chino to balance his life, and please both Sapo and Blanca.  These tensions between family and friends add new dimension to Chino’s changing identity and he learns that his hopes and dreams have much to do with the people who are most important in his life. 

The stories of the main characters in Bless Me, Ultima, Dreaming in Cuban, and Bodega Dreams illustrate the ways in which people combine aspects of their lives and form their own identity.  In the lives of these Latino characters, family, friends, and mentor figures are most influential factors in shaping their self-identity.  In mixing these different aspects of their lives, these characters find that the mixed identity they create is rich, beautiful, and unique, and reflects their essence.   

 Works Cited

Anaya, Rudolfo. Bless Me, Ultima. Berkeley: TQS Publications, 1972. Print.

Falcon, Rafael. Mi Gente: In Search of the Hispanic Soul. Cursack Books, 2008. Print.

In this book Falcon’s essay Reflection of my Essence describes the hybrid identity that Falcon recognizes in himself as he looks into the mirror and looks past his outward features and peers within himself and sees his heritage and his soul.  This short essay is a wonderful example of how many different aspects of one’s life and culture come together to form a mixed and beautiful identity. 

Garcia, Cristina. Dreaming in Cuban. Ballantine Books: New York, 1993. Print.

Quinonez, Ernesto. Bodega Dreams. Vintage, 2000. Print.

           

           

            

La Inca's Healing Prayer

Beli's story is sad in many ways, but it is a story of her survival and her rescue.  When Beli, pregnant, screaming, abandoned by her lover, is taken away by the secret police, La Inca's first thought is that her daughter is finished.  She stands outside looking at the night sky, lost in despair, hoping to be swept away by the cool wind.  She is angry at the Gangster, angry at what happened - wondering, why did this happen?

In this darkest moment La Inca, The Divine, lets her soul hear the spirits of the dead.  "...La Inca almost succumbed, let herself be lifted from her moorings and carried like a child, like a tangle of seagrape beyond the bright reef of her faith and into the dark reaches."  In that hour her husband's spirit speaks to her, urging her to save Beli, or no one else will.  

So La Inca listened.  She prayed to La Virgen Altagracia.  "There has never been prayer like this." Other women came to pray, women who were young and old, happy and sad.  Women who had previously called Beli a whore came and whispered their prayers.  The room filled up with faithful people praying.  

The spirit in that room was so powerful  that it made the very air pulse.  And during all this La Inca barely noticed, she was concentrating so completely on her praying.  She was so intense that not all the women in the room could go on praying and they experienced a spiritual burnout.  At the end of the night La Inca, her friend Momona, and a pious seven-year-old girl remained, still hoping and praying.

The part of the book, the descriptions of La Inca's response to the tragedy of Beli's capture and horrific beating, is one of the most powerful descriptions in the book for me.  Thinking of experiencing the spirit in such an utterly powerful way is incredible.  

I've never experienced prayer in this way before, because I don't usually pray in groups for an extended period of time.  I've known people who have participated in prayer in this way and for this long before, and they say it is powerful beyond belief.  It makes you wonder what prayer can do.  This kind of unique experience is life-changing, and life-saving.  

Reading about what Beli went through was terribly difficult.  It is hard to comprehend the pain she went through and the strength it must have taken to endure that kind of suffering.  La Inca's prayer, I think, was part of Beli's rescue and mending.  

I like to think of prayer in that way - healing.  When we pray, we heal our own lives and spirits, and those of other people.  

Self-Identity in Dreaming in Cuban and Bodega Dreams

Pilar has a dream of returning to Cuba, to her grandmother Celia.  She identifies most closely with her Grandmother – she is tied to her in a unique way, sharing memories, thoughts, layers of life.  She believes she could be free in Cuba in the company of Celia – free to grow into the best of herself. 

Pilar is an artist.  Her identity lies with her artistic ways – her paintings, her thought processes, and her dreams.  Her instinct to follow her heart, her calling – to try and make it back to Cuba (pg 25) – is largely due to who she is as an artist.  When she paints the statue of liberty for her Mom, she expresses her fears that her Mom won’t approve of her sort of abstract and meaningful additions to her piece rather than a realistic and simple rendering of the statue (pg 141).  But this does not stop her from following her gut feelings and artistic instincts.  She goes ahead, despite what her mother may think, and paints what she feels she must.  

The people in her life in New York, her mother in particular, hold her back from her dreams, which are a large part of her identity.  Her father, however, supports her dream of becoming a painter.  He helped create a studio for her to work in and talked her mother into letting her attend art school, despite her mother’s attempts to sabotage her dream (pg. 25-26).  But overall Pilar feels trapped by her life in America rather than inspired, unable to freely make her own choices and be the guide to her own life path.  In this case a disconnect with a sense of home helps Pilar figure out who she is, helps connect her to Cuba. 

            Though Pilar’s dream to become a famous painter has not yet come true, this artist part of her will continue to affect the rest of her life in a profound way – it will continue to shape her  personal identity.  Her Cuban roots call her back home – this affects her art, her soul, her voice and her dreams – it affects her personal identity, who she is to the core.

            In Bodega Dreams, Chino grows up in Spanish Harlem, goes to school and gains his reputation – part of his identity – by fighting, defending himself, his friends, and picking and choosing his fights (pg 4).  He earns his name in this way, and naming, as we explored at the beginning of the semester, plays into personal identity is really interesting ways.  The way that others perceive you, what others call you, is important in your choices, actions, and personal journey that forms who you are. 

            Chino’s friend Sapo plays a big role in who he is.  Chino makes the decision to not only stay in touch with Sapo but continue to be his Pana, his friend, and continue to show he has his back.  This is emphasized over and over throughout the book.  When Chino interacts with Sapo, he takes on the role of Pana.  He doesn’t switch his identity, but this part of him surfaces in an intriguing way when he interacts with Sapo.  He is pressured to do certain things, go certain places, and fulfill certain roles (for example, going to meet Bodega, fulfilling the role of pana, and hide drugs for Sapo).  This all contributes to his personal identity – our choices and actions show largely who we are. 

            Family also plays a role in Chino’s self–identity.  He identifies as a husband to Blanca, and though he isn’t always perfect, he is devoted to Blanca and loves her very much.  When they got married they became a part of one another and therefore made sacrifices (Blanca had to accept Chino’s “ghetto side” and give up playing the tambourine in church, and Chino had to give up some of his street side, and embrace Blanca’s church-going ways as part of who she is).  His relationship with Blanca is intimate and personal and is a factor in who Chino is as a person.

           

Fearing Our Past

Some people run away from their past and some choose to face it, but regardless, our past is part of our present, part of who we are as individuals.  The complex character of Lourdes interests me in Dreaming in Cuban.  In America she is a confident Latino woman who owns a bakery, but in Cuba many of the insecurities of her past come to haunt her.  What is it about memories that can consume and overwhelm us?

Part of Lourdes' past is the reality and horror of her rape.  In the beginning section of the novel we are told the story of her rape, and at the end of the novel we learn that much of her pain is lodged in the fear that what happened to her doesn't matter, that no one cares.  

Pg. 227.  What she fears most is this:  that her rape, her baby's death were absorbed quietly by the earth, that they are ultimately no more meaningful than falling leaves on an autumn day.  She hungers for a violence of nature, terrible and permanent, to record the evil.  Nothing less would satisfy her.  

After finishing the book, this passage stuck with me.  Lourdes' fear is completely reasonable.  It is a scary thought to consider all the pain that goes unnoticed, all the deaths that are not grieved for, and the lives that are not properly celebrated.  Reading this passage made me think about all the people I pass by in a given day whose pain I do not know, who may be dealing with inner struggles and turmoil that is tearing them apart.

It is astounding to consider the burdens that each of us carry, and sobering to think about all who think they must carry their burdens alone.  Our past is part of who we are, but the beautiful thing is that the people in our lives can heal us and help us take on our burdens.  In the end I think returning to Cuba may have helped Lourdes heal some of the wounds of her past.  Though she still wanted to return to America, she gained a certain strength from revisiting the places that haunt her.    

Thoughts on Bodega Dreams

I really enjoyed reading Bodega Dreams because it was interesting to learn about Spanish Harlem.  I have relatives that used to live in Manhattan (it turns out my Aunt lived fairly close to Spanish Harlem) and had visited them more than a few times, yet there is much about the city that takes more time to be discovered, like the relationships between cultural groups.  It was interesting to read about the history involving the Italians which later turned into Spanish Harlem.

There were a few parts or aspects of the novel that struck me in particular.  One was the relationship between Sapo and Chino.  I don't think I could ever completely understand the closeness of their  relationship.  This closeness, I think, had to do with having each other's backs, with fighting, with covering for one another, for being each other's family almost.  Chino said it over and over again: I love Sapo because he loves himself.

This phrase intrigued me, and I continued thinking about it throughout the book.  When I first read the phrase I thought it was kind of strange.  I understood that you can admire someone for their confidence, or "self-love," perhaps, but loving someone only because they love themselves was a new idea for me.  Their history ties Chino and Sapo together, but other than that, wouldn't it just be easier for Chino to forget about Sapo?  He seemed to only create trouble in Chino's life - Blanca doesn't like Sapo, Chino has to hide Sapo's drugs...etc.  Sapo only seemed to make Chino's goals harder to reach, yet Chino never refuses him if he has a request.

This give and take was sort of a theme throughout the novel and seemed to be integral to the nature of the hispanic community in Spanish Harlem.  It was a rule.  One understood one's duties or obligations to another.  They knew if they had a debt to fulfill.

In community it is important to have a flow of give and take, but what was described in Bodega Dreams was almost of a different nature.  Reading the book made me think about my own life.  What are my unspoken obligations to my friends and to my community?

In My Mirror

In my mirror I see white skin, my father’s skin instead of my mother’s freckles.  I am reminded of my mother’s melanoma, and feel lucky to be cancer free.  I wonder, due to this past, if that tragedy is part of my future.  Brown hair, my whole family has brown hair.  My siblings and I used to be blonde when we lived in the West.  Blonde streaks from the rays of the sun, kissing the tops of our heads.  The sun.  The sun is a part of me.  As I survive Indiana winters I dream of the desert sun.  I know the desert, not as a devil’s highway, but as a thing of beauty.  The desert is also part of me. 

           

Tucson, Arizona

I look at my complexion and see Swiss-German roots.  Nicholas Stoltzfus began the Stoltzfus family history in the United States.  I think about all the places I’m tied to, some by blood, some by history, some by experience as places I have visited and come to love.  Africa, beautiful Tanzania rich in history and culture.  Costa Rica with its gorgeous mountains, jungles and oceans, and the colors visible in the city, people, and culture.  Italy, with its gorgeous architecture.  My Aunt, married there.  Rich in history.  Rich in Love.  

            

In my mirror I see what could be, not only what is or what was.  I'm told it is wise to pay equal attention the past, present and future.  Dreaming is part of Me - The Me that is my past, present, and future.  I Dream of places I’ll go and people I’ll see.  The colors of the world inspire me to learn, to travel, to hear peoples stories.


Most of all I just want to listen to music of peoples lives.  The lives of others melt and mold into me, for I am Me only because of those in my life.  

Themes that act as Windows and Mirrors

Lidia Torres is a Puerto Rican poet.  She was born in New York City, and graduated from Hunter College as well as New York University.  Her poem, A Weakness for Boleros (also the name of her poetry collection) was selected by the Poetry Society of America for its program called Poetry in Motion.  Torres received a poetry fellowship from the New York Foundation for the Arts.  She is still living in New York City and is working on a translation project.  

Image from the Poetry Foundation

An American audience can especially appreciate poems written by Lidia Torres because they act effectively as both a window into Latino culture and a mirror in the lives of individuals.  Torres’ poetic style is unique and fresh.  Her voice coaxes emotion out of the reader and helps them see the world in a new way. 

Many different life themes and wonderings shine through in Torres’ poetry.  Among them are family, music, death, the body, spirituality, fruits, longings, sexuality and passion.  These themes are universal, yet Torres draws from her own life, her own latina experience, making her poetry act as a window into an unfamiliar culture. 

Through her writing, an American audience learns about the deep connection of family and taking care of one’s parents when they’re old.  In Latin American it is known by everyone that you are responsible for you’re children when they’re young – just as your parents cared for you – and are allowed the honor and privilege of taking care of your parents when they are old – as you expect your children to care for you as you age. 

The importance of family and the deep connection that families in Latin America share is apparent in many of her poems, including Three Keys, Visiting the Dead, and Listening For Her.  In Listening For Her, Torres describes how she cares for her mother as she struggles with a brain disease.  I clean my mother’s body abandoned long ago by its brain cells.  She allows me to move her limbs, unfold her skin, yielding like an infant…I listen and listen, gazing into the mirror with her.  In Three Keys she writes about losing three brothers, and the power of ghosts and memories.  These keys cannot lock the bare rooms with quiet ghosts of three brothers.  The last brother answers.  Then we are all in the same dream, alive and dead.

Image from Blog UMY Community

Music is also a reoccurring theme in her work.  The beat and rhythm of the music inspires her, and in her poems she uses musical references to capture the movement of life patterns and rhythms.  Her musical references are usually specific to Latin America, but when translated they have to do with the particular rhythmic patterns in certain kinds of music. 

One example of her integration of music into her work is from Three Keys:  My brother answers, tapping the congo skin…Another brother taps the Clave’s beat.  The last brother answers by barely scraping a Guiro.  From a Weakness for Boleros:  The Bolero was composed for you and me.  That is the first line of that poem.  It’s as if she’s saying “the dance of life was composed for you and me.”  Our dance.  Our life. 

The deep connection of family, the rhythms and beats of life, mothers and brothers, dreams and ghosts; Torres uses her unique style and voice to tell of Latin American culture, but many of her themes are universal.  An American audience, an audience that is not Latino, can best appreciate Torres’ poetry because it acts both as a window into Latin American culture as well as a mirror that reflects universal life themes.