In 1985 my mother received a phone call from the wrong number. When she answered she had no idea that the man on the other end of the line would end up being her husband and father to her two daughters. It was that phone call that turned into 33 years of marriage and a home full of culture.
The man on the other end of the call was from Kingston, Jamaica. He immigrated alone to the United States when he was 16 to attend college. He got a scholarship to run at USC and thus landed in Los Angeles.
My parents are very proud of their cultures. Since I was born they have introduced me to music, traditional dishes and customs of their respective cultures. One night we might have rice and peas with chicken curry and the next, dad's golden tacos.
The holidays are always a special time since there are traditions that have been going on with my family for years. Some of the main traditions involve eating and cooking together.
One of the most vivid memories I have during the holidays is making tamales with my mom and sister. The kitchen has always felt like a comfortable place where everyone can gather and feel at home. A few years ago we were making our usual Christmas tamales when my mom ran out of chicken stew. She found some leftover roast chicken and started using it in tamales.
It was one of the first times I saw my two cultures combined on the same plate.
Jamaican and Mexican food are very different. The way the food is prepared is different, the spices are different and the flavors are not similar. But with these Jerk Chicken Tamales, both cultures blended together nicely.
It made me think about how many parents have built a home where their cultures and experiences are equally represented. When my mom made these new tamales I felt a greater appreciation for my multicultural home and she made me reflect on the obstacles that had to be overcome for it to exist.
It was a wrong phone call that turned into months of long phone conversations. That led me to dating for five years in secret thanks to my mother's family.
My mom was the first person in her family to date someone who wasn't also Latino. My grandparents did not accept my black father.
My grandparents would make comments about how my mother's children would be different if she married a black man and how we wouldn't fit in. Even before I was born, they were already condemning me.
On Thanksgiving Day 1990, my mom and dad got married. Despite not having the support of some members of her family, my mom walked down the aisle in a pink dress and exchanged vows with my dad. Over time, my grandparents changed their minds about their relationship.
It was when my mom made jerk chicken tamales that I reflected on how I was raised by two very different cultures that always seemed to coexist perfectly at home.
Growing up, I was made fun of for my hair, the food I brought to school, and the color of my skin. But being Mexican and Jamaican is one of my superpowers. When I was little and people asked me what ethnicity I was, I said “JamMexican.”
I know raising biracial children hasn't always been easy, but my parents have always taught me to be proud of my ethnicity and the different heritages they have.
With Jerk Chicken Tamales, I don't have to choose a side because I have both cultures represented equally.
