Digital Extra

  3/11/98
Women can be macho, too
Hispanic role models that have excelled at manhandling tradition

By Marta V. Martinez

In the spring of my junior year in high school, after I announced to my family that I had decided to attend a college away from my home in Southwest Texas, I was not surprised to find that the loudest protests came from my mother and grandmother.

Being traditional Mexican women -- that is, fearful and protective of their female offspring -- they began to do everything possible to try to make me change my mind.

My Mama Abi, my grandmother, would get into deep discussions with me regarding what a "good Mexican girl" is expected to do -- or not do, like hanging out with the wrong people or coming home late. "Doing those things," she would tell me, "reflects badly on the family, and especially on your mother." And a girl never does anything to make her mother look bad.

"In my days," she continued, "if an unmarried girl left her home, there would be a lot of talk among the neighbors. What will others say?"

In those days, girls in most Hispanic households were considered good daughters only if they were submissive and stayed close to home so they could take care of their mothers as time went by. Girls weren't even supposed to play with boys after age 7. Boys were too assertive and aggressive -- too macho.

In the months that followed, as I prepared to go away to college, I began to feel a strong discomfort, not only with the way my family was reacting, but especially with the way in which I began to feel so negative about my culture. I began to realize for the first time how the Mexican and other Hispanic cultures had traditionally short-changed women by not highlighting their contributions and ability to make change in the world.

Perhaps this was one reason why my mother and grandmother made me feel incompetent and unimportant: because that is what they had been taught by their own ancestors. It especially bothered me that trying to better my education was not the issue, but rather that I had chosen to break tradition.

Today, when I think about the meaning of the word macho -- which is derived from the term machismo, the Spanish word for "the male gender" -- I find it is quite symbolic of the traditional values bestowed upon me and other Hispanic women by our culture. For truly, the word macho means more than to be of the male gender. Today it usually brings to mind such qualities as strength, importance, bravery and power -- qualities bestowed traditionally upon men, who are seen as the leaders, providers and the more capable gender.

With this definition in mind, it is no wonder that the history of Hispanic people -- and American perceptions of them -- do an injustice to the many strong contributions by Hispanic women.

Mexico's macho matriarchs

Hispanic women have proven that they can be quite macho -- that is, brave, strong and resolute. They have emerged to claim their rightful place in history and everyday life; they have taken part in and contributed meaningfully to the history and development of the Americas.

They are women like Dona Marina, also known as La Malinche, who played a key role in guiding Hernan Cortez through the new world, and who some social historians today call the first Mexican feminist.

An Aztec native, La Malinche was sold as a young girl to the Maya during one of Montezuma's attacks on southern Mexico. When Cortez and his men landed in the Yucatan in 1519, she was given to the Spanish as a gift by the Maya and, being fluent both in her native tongue of Nahuatle -- the language of Montezuma -- as well as the Mayan tongue, she served as an interpreter for Cortez and his men.

In this role, La Malinche not only translated the Indian languages for Cortez, but also interpreted for him what went on inside the psyches of the natives. It is believed that, because she had enormous clout with the Spaniards, she may have saved the lives of many Native Americans who otherwise might have gone to their deaths.

Later in Mexican history, during La Revolucion, The Mexican Revolution of 1910, many women served as capitanas and corregidoras -- captains and chiefs -- as they organized revolutionary armies and fought valiantly in a number of battles.

Also during this time, a group of women came to be known as Las Adelitas, or Little Adeles, because they fought side by side with men and performed extraordinary acts of heroism. Adele was the name of Pancho Villa's lover, who was said to have been seen riding on the same horse with him, blasting away at the hacendados, or landowners, with a shotgun fired one-handed. (Pancho Villa was known as the champion of the poor and fought for justice on their behalf during the Mexican Revolution.)

In the 1970s, Las Adelitas became the symbol of empowerment for Hispanic women during the Chicano (Mexican-American) Movement in the Southwestern United States.

The U.S. honor roll

Many other Hispanic women also struggled bravely for their rights in the Southwestern U.S. Take for example Dona Chipita Rodriguez who, while fighting off the sexual advances of an Anglo during the frontier days in Texas, was accused of murdering him -- ultimately becoming the only woman ever hanged in Texas.

Later, in the 1930s, a woman named Ema Tenayuca organized the first successful strike of pecan-shellers in San Antonio, lighting the flame that was to be taken up in the 1960s by Cesar Chavez, the famed labor leader of migrant workers in California and the Southwest.

Around the world there were women such as Rigoberta Manchu, champion of the Guatemalan people who also opposed atrocities committed against Guatemalan women by their own government during the 1970s and '80s; Eva Peron, controversial first lady of Argentina during the 1940s and '50s; and more recently Antonia Novello, a Puerto Rican who was the first woman appointed as surgeon general of the U.S., by President George Bush in 1989.

Rhode Island also has women to look up to, such as Juanita Sanchez, who worked tirelessly for the rights of Hispanics and other people of color until her untimely death in 1992, and who inspired the creation of the first Hispanic-run foundation that offers grants to programs which aid Hispanics in Rhode Island; Anastasia Williams, the first Hispanic elected to the state House of Representatives, in 1992; and women from Central Falls, Pawtucket, Providence, Woonsocket and other towns who today work closely with charitable organizations, local and state government agencies, law enforcement and religious organizations to make life better for the fast-growing population of Spanish-speaking people in Rhode Island.

These are women with whom I feel a strong connection, and who symbolize a hopeful future for today's young Hispanic girls.

Breaking free

I think back to the days of those long conversations with my Mama Abi and smile warmly -- not only because of her memory, but because I am relieved that today's young women don't have to give up their hopes of achieving the highest place among roles traditionally held by men.

It is truly ironic that my grandmother took such great pains in trying to mold me into the "traditional young Mexican girl," because my Mama Abi has now become one of those strong Hispanic women who inspire me in my adult life. For during my early years as a child, I hardly saw my grandmother before 8 p.m. because she was busily, and proudly, running a business of her own -- a diner which eventually became a popular eatery in my home town.

Those were the days when women-run businesses were almost unheard-of. I admired that, and always thought of her as a strong, important, brave and powerful woman whose opinions were blinded by the hold tradition had on her.

I often wonder what she is thinking today as she looks down on me and my family. I hope she has now given me her blessing and wishes me well in all I do.

Marta V. Martinez lives in Warwick.

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