It’s time to come forward and admit the truth. I played hooky on Yom Kippur last Friday night. Instead of service, I went to an ALAS (Association of Latin American Students) meeting.
I’m blessed with two ethnic identities-Jewish and Hispanic-that 98 percent of the time complement each other wonderfully. Both Jewish and Hispanic cultures emphasize the celebration and enjoyment of life, are committed to social justice and teach the importance of family and community.
But every so often, like last Friday, they just conflict. It would seem like an easy choice-the holiest day of the Jewish year versus a simple meeting.
I’m a pretty serious Jew: I’ve kept kosher (in different degrees) for eight years; I study Jewish teachings; and I strive to live my life in accordance with Jewish law (though I don’t read them strictly). But these are all personal commitments, not community commitments. The truth is, I don’t feel that connected to the Jewish community.
I never clicked with Hillel, or, for that matter, many of the people there. And I was half the Jewish population on my freshman floor. Being one of two Jews on a floor at Wash Jew in St. Louis isn’t luck; it’s fate, divine province, predestination, whatever.
Now, it’s true that Chabad, particularly Rabbi Novack, has been a powerful force in connecting me to the Jewish community. Without making a value judgment, Chabad seems to me more focused on the spiritual aspect of Judaism than the social aspect; Hillel, vice versa.
Back to the initial question: why did I skip Yom Kippur services? The basic answer is that I prefer to atone in private, much like I prefer to celebrate Judaism in private. Conversely, I prefer to be more public about my other ethnic identity.
Let me get to my real point, though. It’s Latin American Awareness Week this week, so I’m trying to raise awareness about Latin Americans on campus.
People associate us with dancing, burritos, passion, perhaps socialism. All these are valid associations, especially because we’re pretty public about our culture. But it’s not correct to associate Hispanics only with these things.
For one, we’ve had our share of corrupt, often fascist, governments. Burritos are Mexican, not Latin. And there are some of us that can’t dance (not me, thankfully). More importantly, there really isn’t a monolithic “Latino” culture. While universities and employers love us because we bring diversity to the classroom or workplace, there’s actually more to be said about the diversity within the Hispanic community.
In Argentina, where I’m from, the girls are often anorexic and at least 50% plastic; the guys have over 50 sex partners in their lives, according to one survey I read. In Mexico, women ride in female-only subway cars, while the men wear long pants, never shorts. Costa Rica has no standing army. And Spain is an upstanding member of the European Union.
Even across nationalities, there is diversity. Not every Latino is Catholic. I’ve met Protestant Hispanics, for example. There are quite a few Argentine Jews on campus, too, though I’ve met some Mexican Jews. And even among Argentine Jews, there are huge cultural differences. Some Argentine Jews are much more active in Hillel than me. Some are almost completely secular.
Amid this cultural chaos, there are some common themes, as I mentioned before. But these commonalities were forced upon us. The terms “Latino” and “Hispanic” were invented by the people who made the forms, not by the people who filled them out. Before coming to the U.S., my parents were Argentine, not “Hispanic.” It’s ultimately America, with its need to neatly categorize everyone, that invented the Latino.
So what is Latino? Fundamentally, it’s a partial rejection of American values, choosing instead to keep values from the home country. Rather than American Puritanism, we choose the beauty of life. But remember it’s only a partial rejection. Many Latinos have adopted the American work ethic, as you can see from the immigrant workers on campus who’ve left their families behind to work 12-hour days in America.
You may have noticed that I use “Hispanic” and “Latino” interchangeably. For some, though, the two are not the same term, so be careful with your usage. Questions of identity are often thorny and tricky for Latin Americans.