Growing up as an only daughter of Mexican parents, certain ideas about women's roles in the household are embedded onto you. For a long time, I aspired to grow up, find someone to spend the rest of my life with, and have kids together because this was all I knew. I wouldn’t think much beyond that.
During the third grade’s career fair where several professionals shared what they do and what they love about their career, the teacher finished off by asking, “Does anyone want to share what they want to be when they grow older?” to the class. Everyone seemed so eager to share the jobs and careers they found most appealing and interesting to them. And then there was me, trying to avoid eye contact by keeping my head down looking deeply into my seat as the teacher scanned the room, right in front of me. I had no interest in having a job. It didn't feel like it was necessary for a woman to have one. Every woman who surrounded me was dedicated to their kids and their husband.
I’ve always admired my mom for everything she does. For as long as I can remember, delicious homemade meals have been served at the table three times a day, almost every single day of the week. I never understood how she did it. How can someone manage to cook this much and not repeat the same food so often. Reflecting on this now as I am older, I can assume my mom felt like she had no other option but to follow the traditional lifestyle women have in her culture. Although her meals and loyalty to her background have a very special place in my heart, I would much rather have seen her live her life to her fullest.
In the beginning of eighth grade my mom was so tired of her daily routine, she decided to go to work with her sister for about a month or two. For the first time ever, I saw myself obligated to cook for myself. I had always avoided it but, I didn’t have much of a choice now. So, I pushed the laziness aside and dealt with it. All I would make was scrambled eggs and if I was feeling a little creative, I would add some chorizo or potatoes. That was pretty much the extent of my culinary skills.
During that following summer, my mom began forcing me to join her every time she cooked. She wanted me to learn how to make all kinds of meals. In her opinion, it was mandatory for me to learn in order to become a “good” wife one day. Cooking all the time began to feel exhausting and pointless. I was only helping her, and by doing so I wasn’t really learning how to do it all on my own. It didn’t take much longer for me to realize that this was definitely not for me.
I remember this specific time I was trying to make breakfast for me and my mom. My goal was to make scrambled eggs with small pieces of sausage, but things went a totally different route. I began by turning on the stove and adding oil to the pan so that it would be ready to pour in the ingredients. I turned around to the other side of the kitchen to start cutting the sausage into small pieces. I didn’t pay much mind to the pan; I was too focused on preparing everything that was going into it. I then grabbed five eggs from the refrigerator to start stirring them in a bowl. But as soon as I cracked open the first egg, I smelled smoke. I immediately turned around in panic and to my surprise there was a huge flame reaching all the way to the bottom of the microwave right on top of the stove. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Mom, hurry, come downstairs there’s fire!” She rushed downstairs to realize what I did wrong. “Why would you put oil in the pan if you're still stirring the eggs!” She said as she grabbed the pan by the handle. We both rushed outside and poured water on it. Once the situation settled, she had a disappointed look on her face. All she wanted was to wake up with breakfast served on the table. Instead, she came downstairs to a disaster.
I haven’t continued to cook after that. I mainly excuse this action because of my fear of failure and lack of time. But perhaps these are just reasons I tell myself to hide what I actually feel deep down. It is an unexplainable feeling of being unworthy enough to do much more than that. For example, there used to be several times where my older brother would ask me nicely to cook something for him. I would instantly get annoyed. I didn’t know why. But I then realized it made me feel useful to others only because I was benefitting them, and not because I am capable of doing other things for my own benefit. These intrusive thoughts reflect back on all the countless hours of cleaning and cooking I have seen my mother spend without having anything set for herself. This is why it is important for women to have roles and interests outside of home. Because in the end, it is not guaranteed for any woman that their husband will continue to provide for them.
At the age of 15, my parents separated. Going through such a hard change made me realize that the “Traditional Mexican Household” wasn’t so good, looking forward to, after all. My mom had spent most of her life with my dad, they had kids together, and a whole life built with one another. This was what I looked up to. A future with a stable relationship, a stable family, a stable household. When it all ended though, it made me see things differently. I began to want much more for myself and my future. I didn’t want my whole life to be “serving others” so that one day none of that mattered. The thought of spending the rest of my life with someone vanished.
My mother and I moved to a two-bedroom apartment right across the street from my aunt’s. I was fifteen going to school shattered and getting back home to a mom with a broken heart, pushed me to do better. At the time my mom didn’t know whether or not she would be able to afford a place all on her own. She never needed to. There was always the man of the house to do so, but now there wasn’t. I recently read an excerpt of the book called “Why I’ve Never Learned to Cook,” and I related to it so much. Just like her, the feeling of losing control when cooking reflects back to how our mothers have contributed to this feeling.
Her frustration was my motivation to get a job so that my needs and expenses would be the least of her worries. Depending on myself from a really young age makes me feel really proud. Sometimes it even makes me feel guilty. It's as if I am glad, they divorced. But it's not, I didn’t wish for things to go this way. But now that it did, I wouldn’t wish for it to be any different.
I have learned that unfortunately most women's hard work is always being overlooked and unappreciated. Doing your partner's food while they work and provide for you for as long as you stay with them does not reassure you that they will stay. There is more to me than just being able to please people with cooking. It has taken my mother time after the divorce to accept this hard reality, but now she does things for herself on her own rather than attending others for an exchange of financial stability.
Because of these experiences, now I am a college student who works full time. I am somewhere I never thought I would be. Although I still haven't managed to get past those emotions, I am willing to put it aside. Maybe learning doesn’t have to mean becoming the woman I once thought I had to be. Maybe it can mean becoming even more independent. There is more to being a woman than being a good wife, a mother, or cook. I can learn from my mom's experiences and build a life of my own while still appreciating where I come from. Whatever you set your mind to, although it might seem far, it can get done.
“Family” by Kat Grigg, CC BY 2.0
“Firefighters at Mistletoe Elementary Career Day” by Pacific Southwest Forest Service, USDA, CC BY 2.0
“Huevos con Chorizo at Tito's” by pointnshoot, CC BY 2.0
“Fire.” by Jeramey Jannene, CC BY 2.0
“future” by Mike Cohen, CC BY 2.0
“Worried young woman holding her head while working on a laptop” by Ivan Radic, CC BY 2.0
“Succes” by Jesper Sehested Pluslexia.com, CC BY 2.0
I really connected with your final draft because it felt much more personal and emotional than the earlier version. The biggest change I noticed was how you added the story about accidentally starting a fire while making breakfast. That moment may seem funny at first, but I think it shows something deeper about how you felt pressured to learn how to cook and become the kind of woman you thought you were expected to be. I also thought the part about your parents separating was very powerful. You once imagined having the same kind of stable family your mom had, but seeing what happened made you question that future and start thinking about becoming independent instead. I especially liked that your story does not end with you rejecting your culture or your mother. Instead, you show that you can love and appreciate where you come from while still choosing a different path for yourself. That made the ending feel honest and meaningful to me.
ReplyDeleteI really liked how your final draft showed the change in your perspective about what it means to be a woman/ I also really liked the cooking scene where the pan catches on fire because it gave me an actual moment where i can truly understand your perspective and i could see the relationships with cooking instead of being told about it. My favorite part was when you talked about your mom being in college and you connected that with your own experiences that influenced you.
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