During Christmas time it is a tradition in my Mexican household to devour tamales.My grandma harbors the family recipe.The coveted recipe for the tamales consists of a pale pillowy dough filled with a variety of fillings;crafted by the weathered hands of my grandma.The same hands that once scaled the vast plains of the desert on her search for the freedom she had given up fighting for in her home country,Mexico,are the same hands that make the tamales that much sweeter.With a heavy heart and an equally heavy weight in her womb my grandma crossed the American border, where she would realize the freedom of every generation to come.Alone on her search for a new place to call home she finally landed in the beach-ridden city of San Diego,California in a country where she would establish the rest of her life in America.Christmas is a culmination of family,faith,and food.Celebrated on Christmas Eve,the holiday would not be the same without the presence of the tamale.At every turn you see families with traces of the tamale evident by the crumbs on their face.Contrary to my family’s popular belief tamales are more than just a means to a satisfied stomach,they represent our origin.They represent the beautiful culture originated in a country full of vibrance and pride.But also poverty and injustice.They represent the struggles my grandma endured to create an environment where all of our family can come together and enjoy a holiday with happy hearts and happy tamale-ridden bellies.

– Kayla Munoz

Relationship:  Grandchild of im/migrant Grandchild of im/migrant