daughters

The Role Of A Father, Concerning His Daughter’s Weight

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If you’re the father of a daughter, this is for you.

You might be wondering, how does a father play a vital role, concerning his daughter’s weight and self image? Well I’m gonna tell you how, and why it really is more important than you think.

I’ll start by telling you my story.

When I was a baby, and a growing little girl, I was always fat and chubby. Growing up in a Mexican family, we became accustomed to many things.

One of those things, was the family “roastings”. Family would roast you about anything and everything. That’s just the way it goes in a Mexican household. You quickly learn to develop a thick skin.

Being that I was the firstborn, I was their first victim. The one thing that they relentlessly loved to tease me about was my weight.

My dad was just like any other father who loves joking around with his loved ones. To him it was just harmless teasing. It started with: THE SONG. Yes, he made up an entire song about me.

I can laugh about it now, but only because I know that it was my father’s unique way of being playful and connecting with us, through humor. Although at the time, it was the opposite of humorous to me. It was hurtful for a long time.

But as a kid, this song, along with the snide remarks thrown at me by my dad and other loved ones, would unknowingly impact me, for the rest of my life.

Are you ready for the words to this infamous song?

This is how it goes:

“Deanna la marana

Se callo en el socetal

Vino el zapatero

Y no la pudo levantar

The english version/translation of it is:

“Deanna the pig

Fell in the mud

Along came the shoeman

And couldn’t pick her up.”

Some of the remarks that he would also say are:

Lla deja de comer

Or

Lla deja la mesa

Which is:

Quit eating

Or

Get away from the table

There are more, but I’m too embarrassed to repeat them. He always said it laughing. Poking fun at me and not really meaning any harm by it, but also oblivious to the fact that it really did do harm.

As a daughter, I wish I would have received more acceptance, and less body shaming. I wish I would have been taught about self-love. Especially from family.

When a father teases a daughter about her weight, EVEN IF JUST playfully, it leaves her very self-conscious about her entire body and image. I don’t think it’s right to add anymore doubt to her self-image given the societal pressures and unrealistic beauty standards already bombarding her.

Believe it or not, she will never forget it. I think fathers may not realize the power of their spoken words. The things you speak into existence could have impacting consequences on your daughter’s. You decide early on whether that will be negative or positive.

We girls suppress the memories, but it’s like they’re archived in our brain bank. They silently reside there, waiting for the next trigger to resurface that wound. By the time we become women, we have been conditioned to accept this treatment by everyone.

A daughter doesn’t want to be constantly compared to the primas and criticized for the way she looks.. Unfortunately, in my culture that’s a daily part of life.

If it’s not the parents taunting her, trust me there is still tias, tios, abuelitos, primas, primos, and amigos that will gladly step in and do it.

I remember hearing a tio say to me:

“Tu hermana es la mas bonita de todas. “

“Your sister is the prettiest one of all.”

Both of my sisters are equally beautiful by the way. But it bothers me to this day that his words wore planting a negative seed. But I can see that as an adult now, he was causing self-doubt and perhaps even trying to cause a division of our bond. I’m happy to report that it didn’t cause a division in our bond .

But unfortunately, I have come to believe the labels they (people) slapped on us. The label that my sisters are the pretty ones…….and I’m just the smart one. It’s like a self fulfilling prophecy.

And I remember friends of my parents coming to visit and also doing this same thing.

They mean well, but that’s why it’s important to educate our own communities about the possible consequences of these type of words and comparisons.

Check out this movie scene in the link below, from the movie “Little Miss Sunshine. “Watch how the little girl’s father tries to guilt her for eating the ice cream. Because his logic was that she wouldn’t be able to be skinny and thus become a beauty pageant “winner” if she ate the ice cream.

Little Miss Sunshine Ice Cream Scene

What do you think now? Do you think it’s just harmless fun to joke about your daughter’s weight, body, or image? Or do you think perhaps we should approach this area with sensitivity? Or do you worry it will make your daughter weak if she can’t handle your criticism? Let me know your thoughts.

Works Cited:

YouTube:Foxhomeent

Good People | Buena Gente – Part One

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A very frequent colloqiualism I heard growing up in the Mexican community, was:

“El/Ella es buena gente.” Which basically translates to: “He/She is good people.”

I also read that “good people”is not proper English. It is considered Black Slang in A Dictionary of Afro-American Talk by Clarence Major 1971 1513N.

I recently celebrated my 35th birthday on February 13. I am so blessed that in these 35 years I have had the privilege to meet some really “buena gente”,”good people.”

The reason I first started my blog was because I lost the most “buena gente” person that I knew. My papi.He passed on to eternal glory in July of 2016.

He was truly “good people.” He was brave, intellectual, empathetic, resilient, kind, he had a sense of humor, and so many other things.

As I have previously written, I miss our candid talks the most. Towards the end of his life he was just too ill, to have one more talk with me.

And although I desperately wanted to ask him to, I refrained myself from doing so. He was suffering greatly and I didn’t want to be selfish.

I think that’s what I mourn the most. That I can never fill that void. That I can never talk to him again. I mean he can hear me, but I can’t hear him.

Maybe that’s why my blog is the prescription that I need to give me a little bit of pain relief.

He was the only one who would listen to me. I mean really listen to the words I was saying. Then he would THINK about his response.

He would give me sound, rational advice. He just always knew what to say. I never know what to say or how to say it, hence the reason I try to write it instead.

Now that my dad is gone my joy comes from meeting all the “good people” in the world that I come across.

It makes me happy when I meet someone (especially complete strangers) who are willing to chat up a storm about whatever strikes our fancy.

I love to see their raw emotions. I love to find a way to connect with them. I enjoy listening to them tell me their stories. And I get excited to share them with you.

I hope you continue to follow my blog because in part 2 of my “Good People” “Buena Gente” Blog Mini Series, I will be sharing with you the story about how I met the son of a Former NFL Hall of Fame’r who is the epitome of ” good people.”

This is one story you won’t want to miss.

I dedicate this mini series to my loving father. My hero. Jose Guadalupe Montalvo. You are greatly loved and missed Papi. I hope I make you proud. I love you! This February, this “love” month, I will share my love by telling the stories of these “good people” with the world. Even if I’m only reaching 60 people right now.

It is not what he has, nor even what he does, which directly expresses the worth of a man, but what he is.

-Henri Frederic Amiel

Chasing Childhood Dreams

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In my previous blog I posted about my childhood dream of becoming a published author of childrens books. I can honestly say that it’s scary as heck putting myself out there.

What if they hate me? What if they hate what I write, or how I write? What if I make a big fool of myself? What if I am not good enough? Or what if I don’t have what “it” takes?

All of those debilitating questions formerly ruminated in my mind and hindered me from taking action.

When I think back on my life though, I wonder, what happened to me? What happened to that invincible spirit that I was once endowed with?

Where is that girl who (at only 17 years old) seized every opportunity with so much eagerness? That girl that was so ready to conquer the world?

That girl that was a pioneer and not a settler. She was a risk taker not a hesitator. She was neither a leader, nor a follower. Naturally, she was a loner (Something that I used to be embarrassed by, but now embrace as a super power).

Somewhere along this life journey I lost her self-reliant spirit.

Day by day I am striving to regain that spirit once again. Deliberately living my life by my own design, and without second guessing myself. Making decisions that I finally feel are in sync with my future destiny.

I don’t have it all figured out, but I am glad that I rediscovered my childhood dream again. The one that has always felt right. The one that was always there but needed to be revived.

The day before yesterday I came across an old home video of my youngest daughter 💃 dancing from a few years ago.

I can recall that day I recorded her vividly in my mind. I remember begging her,

“Mija will you dance for me, like you used to do when you were just a little baby girl?”

I reminded her of how she used to prance around and dance beautifully. She only agreed, to appease me of course. But still, it is one of my favorite home videos. Because watching your baby girls grow up is priceless.

She had zero dance instruction. It was all her own childhood spirit.

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=822552324437934&id=100000495233274

The night I recorded that video of my daughter, I cried myself to sleep after I prayed and talked to God.

I said in my prayer to God…something like”God it’s me. I am so blessed to be the mommy of these two beautiful little girls. But how can it be that you made one of my little girls a dancer, when I can not afford for her to get any type of 💃 instruction? Or provide either of them any form of enrichment programs?”

“God you know that I want to give these little girls the world. But I don’t have money to pay for her to take dance classes or the other one to take 🎹 piano lessons. This is a dream that can be expensive for any mother much less a divorcee single mother,(Which I was at that time) So God, I am asking YOU. If YOU made her to be a dancer, then I trust that YOU will open some doors for her. God YOU are father of the fatherless. So I leave this dream of hers in YOUR hands”

I literally gave it to God and went to sleep.

I completely forgot about that prayer as a couple of weeks had passed. But then one day I found some information online about a ministry that was led by Mrs. Kaitlin–O‘Connell Owens at Wonderfully Made Ballet Studio. I sent a quick question to her via e-mail.

Then one day I received an e-mail response from her. She said she was trained in classical ballet. She told me how this ministry was established for any person who had a desire to dance, to be able to have that opportunity. She told me about how this was a donation based studio and anyone could come and learn and pay what they could in the form of a donation.

It was GOD who opened a door for my babygirl to have an opportunity to dance. She was able to attend a couple of semesters.

I am eternally grateful to the school and Wonderfully Made Ballet Studio and Mrs. Kaitlin for being a part of God’s awnser to this mothers prayer.

Now I have not been able to take her to anymore classes since I started working again. Nor do I know if my daughter will ever get a chance to do it again.

But I have a suspicion that her spirit is that of a dancer. And that one way or another she will always gravitate back to her childhood dreams(Only God and Time will tell.)

Yesterday was also the 15th Birthday of my oldest daughter. It’s particularly important in my Mexican culture, because it is a coming of age type celebration. Where she has earned her rite of passage into womanhood. Typically the family has a church ceremony and fiesta celebration afterwards called a quinceanera.

So in reference to childhood dreams, I lament that she will no longer be my little 👧girl, rather she is my little woman now. She will embark on her own journey of self-discovery.

As you can guess my life is busy and full. I have to carve out time to become the me that I’m trying to be, and simultaneously be a working mother who supports my childrens dreams. I feel sleep deprived lately, yet determined to push forward.

My prayer is that all of you may find your chilhood dream. Whatever it is that you are most passionate about. That you would pursue it. And may it come true for you, and for me, and for all of us who are diligently working on our dreams.

Mis Padres, My Parents!

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After I got home from work the other night, I called my mami. Earlier that day I had been having a rough time. I had many things troubling me. So I told her the details of my day and asked her some questions.

I was hoping that she could offer some encouragement and would have some input for me. So I was a little crushed when she just responded,

“I don’t know mija“.

There was an awkward silence after her response. I just smiled though because it was ok. I know she’s still grieving the loss of my papi (daddy).

I wasn’t crushed because she didn’t have an awnser, but because I really just needed reassuring responses. Or better yet if I could just have one more of those candid conversations I used to have with mi papi.

Mi papi would have these deep, thought provoking replies. He always knew just what to say.There was never a right or wrong answer. He just always had a well thought out message. His wisdom probably credited to the life experiences he had.

As I previously shared in my bio page post, I lost mi papi in July. My dad somehow knew that I didn’t really need an answer to these questions (because there is no ONE awnser). He knew I just needed to engage in a philosophical conversation. He was brilliant at helping me to understand “life”. Gosh I miss him so much! I still cry everyday.

I feel like I am constantly trying to talk about him. I’m always finding any reason to bring him up (So if it’s annoying, I apologize). Hopefully, what I say is inspiring and not irritating.

Now don’t get me wrong about my mom. She’s smart too. I call her a “Jane of all trades”. She is skilled in many ways. She’s entrepreneurial. She DIY’s and I’m not only talking about crafts and glue gun type. I’m talking about ordering Auto Zone and Oreilys Auto Parts kind and being her own mechanic. She really has superhero strengths 💪.

My mother is my only living parent now, so I will be scrutinizing everything she does and how she does it (And being the nerd that I am, I’ll probably write notes to help me remember for future reference). Not in a negative and critical sense but just in an awe and respectful sense.

It brings a smile to my face, knowing that I see a combination of the traits of both my parents in myself. I feel like I inherited mi papi’s intellectual and philosophical curiosity and mi mami’s creativity and entrepeneurial gusto.

During their formative years, my parents both dropped out of middle school; my dad in Mexico, and my mom in America. I wish I would have inquired a little more about their extenuating circumstances. I’m sure we talked about it some. I regret not having written any of it down, for my memory fails me now.

I now have to fill that vacant space someway. I have to find other people who are willing to have these candid conversations with me. That’s hard to do in this day in age because everyone is busy in life, or caught up on social media such as Facebook (Whom I myself have become victim to frequently).

Perhaps this blog I’ve created will be a little outlet, and a way to fill that vacancy. I enjoy using my creativity to challenge myself in this way. I love words and writing. I’m on a learning adventure everyday of my life. I meet people with incredible stories and I pray that one day they will let me share their stories as well.

Feel free to chime in. Obviously my blog and my writing won’t be everyone’s cup of tea. But hopefully in some way I can encourage others to pursue their passions. I want to hear your thoughts. Tell me the good, the bad, and the ugly.

So my parting thought and message for this post is,

Honor your mother and father. Remember to call your parents tonight. Thank them for all they have sacrificed. Most importantly don’t forget to tell them you love them.

–Deanna Guadalupe Montalvo

I’m not trying to be bossy or sound condescending. I’m just a little jealous because I can’t call mi papi anymore. I sure will be calling my mom though.

If you don’t have your parents to talk to anymore. Please don’t be sad. Email me. I will read your stories and engage in philosophical (or any candid) type of conversations with you.

I hope you like reading my stories and snippets of life as well. If you do please follow my blog. And if you don’t that’s quite alright too.

To contact me:

dstatam63@bethelu.edu

candidchicana@gmail.com

My Photo: “Papi & Mami” Jose Guadalupe Montalvo, Gloria Anna Montalvo

5 Simple Ways To Preserve & Pass Down Our Culture To Our Children

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  1. CONVERSATION Have your children talk to their aunts, uncles, and grandparents. Some of my own fondest memories are candid conversations that I had with my father. Many of my beliefs have been formed and shaped simply from the talks that I remember having with him.
  2. READ Read to your children, and let them read to you. Intentionally pick out books that they can relate to. Choose books that educate them about their own culture.
  3. RESEARCH Go on the internet to search for information about your own culture. My daughters and I love to do this and often find ourselves diverted on several rabbit trails. It’s fun and educational. Anything from articles to YouTube videos.
  4. PROMINENT PEOPLE Study prominent people with your children. Are their people in your own family that played important roles in history? Perhaps a grandparent fought in a war. Interview them and make a video for the family keepsakes. Whether war stories, or just ramblings of their own childhood memories…these are the words that influence and impact our children.
  5. WRITE Have your children reflect and write their memories and experiences. I can recall my parents taking me to Mexico to visit my grandparents when I was only a child. Many of my ideas for writing have come from that trip alone. The featured image up above, is of my abuelitos (my paternal grandparents) from Mexico.

What other ways can you think of to pass down and preserve our family history?

Contact me at:

candidchicana@gmail.com

dstatam63@bethelu.edu