By María del Sagrario Ramírez
Arizona Daily Wildcat
October 31, 1997

Latinas have a dual struggle in society

Arizona Daily Wildcat María del Sagrario Ramírez

As I approach my final year as a UA student, I can't help but reflect on the experiences that have shaped my attitude as a Chicana writer and about the world I live in. Most importantly, I can't help but remember how hard it's been trying scheduling my classes and my life around three other people who look to me for their schedule and their lives.

Latinas learn that in American society, women have struggled for the right to be seen as equal, competent and intelligent members of society. Not only do Latinas struggle through college, but many of us are torn between the very culture that made us and the culture we live in.

Over the years, as more Chicanas entered college and the work force as professions, we've not only had to deal with the double discrimination that comes with being a woman of color, but we've also had to deal with the disapproval and disappointments from our own culture against the lifestyle many of us have chosen to live.

I often remember the comments of a college adviser as she looked over my information, which I couldn't help but doubt my ability to finish.

"Do you always do things the wrong way?" the adviser asked me.

"What?" I answered, somewhat confused.

"Don't you know you're suppose to go to college first, then get married, then have kids?" she said with a sarcastic smile. "Don't expect any special treatment because this is a luxury for you and it might be the last chance you get, " she said as she ended our meeting.

So for years, as I tried to get through research papers and midterms while staying up late nights with a sick child or not going to class because of doctors' appointments, I always remembered and believed what that adviser had said to me.

Going through school, as I met other Latinas with the same experience, I began to understand that my endurance and strength came from other women.

In the stories of women, particularly indigenous women, and the teachers who taught the history, I found the strong and tolerant creatures I wanted to be when I grew up. Not only did I begin to understand how that tolerance was ingrained into our childhood, which is so characteristic of Latinas, but I also began to understand the limitations that are woven into our culture.

As girls, we are taught the distinctive gender roles of being mothers and care takers. In our culture, good woman could cook, clean, mend and heal all wounds, both for our future children and future husbands. As young Chicanas, we learn quite early about the sacrifices and disappointments we will face as caretakers and learning to endure those also makes a good Mexican wife and mother.

Some of us fall into the role, either accidentally or purposely, living happily ever after or living with the consequences of our bad choices. Chicanas who tolerate the unhappiness are not stupid; we are taught and raised to endure the situation, reaching out to our religion and family for support and strength, or to find escape in novellas.

Although my parents are proud of me, they can't help but not understand what school and career really means to me as a woman. It all means making a difference, feeling proud of us and breaking free. Within my culture, it would be easier and safer if I would just find a nice man and raise my children.

"¿Quéeacute; estas estudiando?" (What are you studying) my dad asks me at the beginning of every semester.

"¿Y los niños?" (What about the kids?) my mom reminds me of my kids.

"Esos niños te necesitan." (You know they need you.) Anyone who knows Mexican parents or is part of a Mexican family knows you don't ever say anything to your parents when they call attention to your behavior.

For Latinas without children, a simple late-night library visit or study group meeting could lead to the Spanish Inquisition by concerned parents.

For those of us who have remained, we find the strength in the stories of women who worked in the cannery factories, picked with their husbands during the mine and farm labor strikes and fought city hall in East Los Angeles.

Some of us find ourselves in the stories about La Malinche, who was an Aztec princess during the time of the Spanish conquest and sacrificed her privileged and educated position to help millions of Indians from being slaughtered.

Others find their strengths with the professoras who give so much of their time and energy because they understand our struggle as Latinas.

As I leave the UA this semester, I leave behind those young women who continue to question their decisions and break the family expectations of children and family and continue to work hard to live their dream. To them, I quote Max Lucado:

"A woman who wants to lead the orchestra must turn her back on the crowd."

In just a few weeks, many of Tucson's finest Latinas will get together for the 1997 Hispanic Women's Conference "Mujer 2000." This conference is especially important for young Latinas trying to find their place in today's society. Awareness of this internal struggle can help other Latinas look for the support they need to reach their goals, but more, talking about the struggles can dispel the myth that Latinas, because we choose to have children, are unachievers.

Years later, I heard a similar comment while attending a college seminar for women. When I told this woman how many children I had, she said:

"Wow, that's a lot of kids. Why did you have so many kids if you couldn't take care of them?"

My very good friend, Lorena Howard, heard her and said, "Because she was doing her part to replenish the Chicano [race] with health, happy, decent Chicano children, OK!"

Latinas are some of the most beautiful women in the world and we owe it to ourselves, our mothers and grandmothers, our ancestors and sisters to show the world this majestic beauty.

María del Sagrario Ramírez is a senior majoring in Mexican-American studies and journalism.