On being Mexican

Mexican 

/ˈmek.sɪ.kən/ 

adjective

1. Belonging to or relating to Mexico or its people

I’ve always wondered how much of who I am could be credited to my nationality. What parts of me have been helplessly shaped by my country? Apart from the values and the education that my parents have instilled in me, what traits of my personality do I owe, entirely, to Mexico? 

I think the most accurate way to describe the relationship I’ve had with my nationality is that it’s been complicated. I have not always been proud to call myself a Mexican. After many hours of introspection, and with the help of sporadic therapy sessions, I’ve slowly discovered that the birth of my seemingly unprecedented hatred towards my roots, could undeniably be traced to the very same day that a series of very unfortunate factors conspired in just the right order to result in the kidnapping of someone extremely close to me. 

This atrocity, combined with several other personal factors, gave me an uncontrollable necessity to flee my country. How could I possibly love the place who gave me the urge to run away? How could I ever be able to acknowledge the people that caused my family so much pain, some fellow Mexicans, as my own people? How could I ever feel proud of belonging to a place that has killed, manipulated, disappeared and traumatized not only my loved ones but also thousands of other people? 

One of the things that I love the most about living abroad is that it gives you the opportunity to literally step away from your reality and look at it from afar, with a new pair of eyes and renewed points of view. And so, as it has happened with many other things in my life, time and distance granted me the opportunity to understand that I was looking at this particular situation the wrong way. I was committing what I now consider one of the biggest crimes one could ever indulge in: generalizing. 

My resentment had clouded my vision to such an extent that I had decided to blame my entire country for one misfortune, I started to regard the entirety of my fellow citizens as corrupt, savage and useless. When in reality, even though it is true that some people are simply evil, I just couldn’t continue to blame an entire group of people for the decisions of a  few, while ignoring all the positive, unique and incredible things that characterize the rest.

With time I’ve come to not only acknowledge but deeply treasure every single trait I possess that has been instilled in me by the magical coincidence of being born in Mexican territory. Immersing myself in foreign cultures and ways of life, has led me to recognize the values that many of us, as Mexicans, (each of us in our own way, in our own time, and due to very specific circumstances), have internalized. 

A country that is known for its drastic social inequalities and contrasts not only forces you to value what you have but gives you an undying drive to find ways that contribute to shortening the gap that separates some lucky few from those less fortunate. A place where “having connections” is known for trumping talent makes you resilient, makes you persevere and forces you to learn how to go the extra mile without complaining, in order to achieve what others are easily handed. A culture that uses music, food, and tequila as its cure for any type of setback, gives you a keen capacity to enjoy the little things, and to laugh at yourself, mastering the art of not taking life too seriously. When one of the most recognised traditions of your country is the “day of the death”, a day in which we use music, poetry, and flowers to pay tribute to our fear of death, helps you develop a special eye that’s able to identify silver linings, and that’s able to look at the glass half full (even when there’s no water in the glass to begin with).

I believe the entire world had the incredible privilege of witnessing the power of the Mexican spirit a few months ago when an earthquake shook the ground of our country. This catastrophe made entire buildings collapse, it took the lives of hundreds of people, but I like to believe the biggest thing it did was destroying the invisible structures that confine us; such as political views, religious affiliations and socioeconomic differences, forcing us to look beyond them in order to find all those things we have in common, the very special things that tie us together. Our buildings collapsed but our spirit arose…I’ve never felt more proud of being Mexican. 

With time, I’ve come to comprehend that the problem with my country is not its people, it's the incompetence of its sociopolitical system. Even though it's true that we’ve still got a long way to go when it comes to social matters and civic behavior, we all have one thing in common: we want to see our country thrive. We just have to work together to challenge and dismantle this incompetence, in order to make room for our common desire to show not only the rest of the world but especially ourselves, what our country is really made of. 

I eventually realized that for the better part of my life, I had fallen prey to the same misconception as many other people around the world: stereotyping an entire population based on the terrible actions of a minority; Mexico is not the corruption and greediness of its politicians, Mexico is not the violence of its drug cartels, Mexico is not its entitled and terribly educated elite, Mexico is not its social inequalities. 

Mexico is music, Mexico is diversity, Mexico is creativity, Mexico is nature, Mexico is its hard-working people, Mexico is its indigenous people, Mexico is its food, its contagious humor, its colors, its amazing dance moves, its drive… and its undying courage. Mexico is a set of diverse people who refuse to give up on its country.  

I can now see clearly that much of the parts that I like the most about myself, I owe, entirely, to Mexico. 

“They tried to bury us. They didn’t know we were seeds” 

– Mexican proverb

Sincerely yours, 

Natalia