Gina
Robledo
Prof. Millward
ENG 111
24 September 2003
Abuelita
While growing up, whenever I felt overwhelmed by the pressures and confusion of adolescence, I would turn to my abuelita, Evelia. She would patiently listen and, before my admiring eyes and anxious self, would speak a few words that would alleviate my worries. Her certainty and knowledge seemed magical. When I thanked her she would smile and say, “Recuerda hija, como te ves, yo me vi; Y como me ves, te veras.” Yes, abuelita, hopefully I will become a woman like you someday. Undoubtedly, the transition to adulthood can be one of the most challenging phases in one’s life, where teasing and apathetic messages become insecurities, and expectations overwhelm the inner adult anxious to flourish. On the other hand, this is also the moment when one finds inspiration in people who not only guide with their wisdom, but also incite the essence of one’s character to develop and mature. In Helena Maria Viramontes’ “The Moths”, while the narrator responds with defiance to her family’s constant criticism because she does not fit their ideals of femininity, she finds in her abuelita a haven from the chaos she lives at home. Abuelita guides her as she develops her own morals and becomes a strong and independent woman.
Viramontes presents a fourteen-year-old girl of Latino heritage, who is trying to make sense of the conflicting values that prevail in her home. The narrator does not fit the stereotypical template of femininity that her family considers proper for young women, and thus she is singled out. As she grows up, the narrator accepts that she “is not pretty or nice like [her] older sisters and just could not do the girl things they could do”. Each family member feeds her poor self-perception. Her sisters, with their “cute water like voices” repeatedly call her bull hands due to her inability to “handle the fineries of crocheting or embroidery” (2). Apa’s harsh words and violence when ordering her to understand the importance of Catechism and going to Mass to “save her goddamn sinning soul” provoke in her the notion of violence as the most effective method to resolve matters and achieve one’s way. Finally, Ama’s passivity exasperates and embitters her, because the narrator cannot understand why Ama will not stand up to her husband’s dominance. Ama’s apparent disinterest evokes sadness and frustration, and the narrator ultimately comes to reject Ama.
Although the narrator knows she falls short of her family’s expectations, she is not willing to conform to their standards. As a result, she adopts a defiant and arrogant attitude and responds with violence to her sister’s constant mocking. As expected, Apa responds with whippings and Ama simply sends her to Mama Luna’s to “avoid another fight and another whipping” (4). Unfortunately, the narrator misinterprets Ama’s actions and feels responsible for the disruption at home because she is sent to Abuelita. This is not surprising, considering this family has great difficulty expressing affection, thus impeding the ability to understand and receive it. Nevertheless, the narrator joyfully spends time with Abuelita not knowing that Ama is presenting her with the most valuable and loving treasure she possesses, her mother’s guidance and tenderness, which is even more precious when Abuelita becomes gravely ill.
The narrator considers it “only fair” (6) to answer Abuelita’s requests for help. Abuelita has healed the narrator’s sickness in spite of the disbelief in her traditionalist cures, which prove effective as Abuelita snaps at the narrator, “You’re still alive, aren’t you?” But Abuelita does not need to speak; on the other hand, simply with her presence, and her omnipotent gray eye, she is able to calm the narrator’s worries. Abuelita makes the narrator feel “like God is supposed to make you feel, in a strange sort of way, safe and guarded and not alone” (4). Abuelita is not only safe haven, but also the only person who is able to make the best of her granddaughter’s peculiarities.
At Mama Luna’s home, the narrator’s “bull hands” are used to “puncture holes in the bottom of the coffee cans with a nail and a precise hit from the hammer” (4), they accomplish tasks like those expected from a man. At the same time, they have the gracefulness to take the cans and “fill them with red clay mud, packing it softly, then making a perfect hole, to nest a sprouting avocado pit”(5). Abuelita does not criticize what others consider the narrator’s flaws or imperfections. On the contrary, Abuelita respects the narrator and in a caring way instructs her to be a capable woman, a woman like Abuelita. At this moment Abuelita’s strength is not perceptible. Her illness has debilitated her and she must rely on her granddaughter to care for her and carry her through her last moments. But Abuelita knows she still has lessons to teach to her granddaughter and she faces death with courage and wisdom. With Abuelita’s example, the narrator understands that not only does it take courage to endure life’s hardships, but also to accept when one’s cycle has ended and move on. Furthermore, while the narrator cares for Abuelita, and notices “the scars on her back, which were as thin as the life lines on the palm of her hands”, she realizes “how little [she] really knew of Abuelita” (15). However, what is certain is that the scars represent the force needed to become independent and the intelligence needed to survive as a self-reliant woman.
Lamentably, the only thing certain in life is death and Abuelita, although as defiant as the sun, “has come to the realization that it cannot with all its power to heal or burn, exist forever.” But even when Abuelita’s life comes to an end, her essence will prevail in her granddaughter, as she is the heart where all of Abuelita’s wisdom and values have been deposited. Abuelita’s death is the moment of “illumination, where the sun and the earth meet, a final burst of burning red orange fury, reminding that although endings are inevitable, they are necessary for re-births” (15). Abuelita has not departed,but lives on in her granddaughter.
In the midst of all the hardness, the narrator turns to Abuelita, her “sun shining through the darkness” (3), who helps her understand that there can be a compromise between femininity and strength, as well as independence and affection. Abuelita redefines femininity and rescues the narrator from misinterpreting femininity as passivity and valor as violence. With guidance and care she develops the narrator’s ability to nurture and heal as well as have the courage to follow her heart and mature. Like the narrator, I was fortunate to have my abuelita to help me develop into the person I am today. She provided me with insights on life and ways to approach the challenges I would face not only during my adolescence, but also throughout my life. When I was younger, I thought Abuelita’s wisdom was innate. Now I understand that her magical words were the result of having overcome hardships, understanding life’s lessons and having the sensibility to convey them to me through her advice. Unfortunately, not all girls have an abuelita in their life to care for and support them. It is only fair that those of us, who were privileged with an abuelita, share the knowledge and the loving advice received to help younger girls through a challenging phase like adolescence.