My story about my family tradition is very clouded at best because we don't treat it necessarily as a traditional well tradition.  My family isn't necessarily materialistic in the sense that we don't give big importance to objects themselves. For those reasons, it was hard picking an object/tradition to use but in the end, I picked the semi-traditional dish that my mom, sisters, and I make around the holidays or anytime we feel like making it. The white house next to vineyards and stone wall located a little less than 5 miles away from Yountville is where my family lives and we make tamales. I remember ever since I was little my mother making tamales with family.  It was bittersweet because she would spend the whole day making food instead of spending quality time with her family. I feel that it was semi-worth it because we would usually eat the food together as a family and it was a well-deserved reward.  Though thinking about it makes me realize that tamales themselves weren't special because plenty of people make them; what made them special is the memories and time spent that were attached to maza Inside a corn husk and filled with whichever stuffings you wish to have. Reminiscing about my family’s semi-tradition makes me realize that I don't remember all that about actually eating but I vividly remember making them and being next to family members preparing to eat them. I guess in a way tamales are a great thing that seems to bring my family together; not a lot of things can do that so it's something that I should not take for granted.
 

– Adrian Paniagua Diaz

Relationship:  Child of im/migrant Child of im/migrant