The Worst of Both Worlds

There have been countless essays written on the matter of assimilation, acculturation, ethnicity, identity, etc. Writers such as Sandra Cisneros, Lorna Dee Cervantes, Ana Castillo, and countless others write about living with the hyphen. I debate things like, should I call myself a Mexican? Tejana? Latina? Chicana?

What no one talks about, however, is the kind of thing I witnessed on Friday night. I was at a Valentine's Day event and the DJ had been playing a wide mix of songs. Disco, '80s, salsa, merengue, norteño. I turned to my husband and said, "This is the kind of DJ I wanted for our wedding." And then the DJ put on the song.

If you are a fortunate soul, you have never had to listen to "My Achy-Breaky Heart." I lived in Texas for most of my life, so I heard it more than I care to admit. I know some of the lyrics solely due to osmosis. On Friday night, for the first time, I heard this song in Spanish. And then people started line dancing. Mexican people. That was when the worst of both my worlds collided. Billy Ray Cyrus + Spanish + line dancing = Yvonne whispering, "the horror, the horror" to herself.

No one in the Latino/Chicano movement mentions these kinds of moments, so I will. A beautiful blending of cultures? Or the end of brown pride as we know it? You decide.