Thoughts Of Machismo On Father’s Day
I love my father more than I could ever put into words. And, now that I think about it, my father and his male relatives have been the people who have been the most formative in my life, the people actually, who have helped me become the Latina bloguera suprema that now sits at the helm of News Taco. I know that, at least in my pocho culture, there’s always a lot of talk and criticism about machos or machismo. And, luckily for me, I’ve never experienced any of this within my family — not something I could say for the larger world, though.
My father is a kind, honest and brilliant man who has loved me so well since before I can remember (he taped us when I was two years old), and always had the highest expectations for me. And once I was an adult and began an ongoing conversation with his father, my Güelito Chente, I realized why. My güelito, like my father, believed ardently in a gentle and supportive kind of love, not one that was overbearing or that classified the men and the women into different categories of expectation, but a kind of love that brushed past the façade we all have, and into the heart of who we are.
They loved me and supported me because of who I am as a person, not because I was a woman.
And while there may be whispers of what could be interpreted as machismo in my relationships with the two of them, it’s nothing that could be interpreted as “terrible.” For example, my grandfather was very proud of me when I graduated from college, but was always worrying after when I would get married — so someone could take care of me. In his old school Mexican world, and as someone who cared for me, my security and safety would be boosted by being “taken care of” by a man. I’ll give him that; I’ve since read studies that show that marriage brings a whole host of benefits for both men and women, albeit men tend to benefit more in certain ways.
My father prepared me for many things, among them to be his intellectual heir, to make my own decisions, to work to make the world a better place. Of course, when I shaved my head freshman year in college, it totally freaked him out, and he’s never really forgiven me for that (yes, there are pictures). I wouldn’t necessarily bill this as “machismo,” but he certainly didn’t freak out when my brother did the same thing.
So, I guess what I’m getting at as I reflect on Father’s Day and what it means to me, is that there’s a wide world of machismo, and not all of it is bad. I’m a lucky, lucky woman to have been raised by men who, while not machistas, held values that could at once be interpreted as “traditional,” but were more often than not overshadowed by a sincere and deeply held belief that I was a person of value before I was anything else (like a woman).
¡Qué vivan los papis!
Follow Sara Inés Calderón on Twitter @SaraChicaD
