| Conversaciones Entre Terapuatas Latinos de Aquí y Allá [1] Conversations Between Latino Therapists Here and There Gonzalo Bacigalupe Ni a irse ni a quedarse, a resistir, aunque es seguro que habrá más penas y olvido. (Gelman, 1959) [2] [Nor leaving nor staying, to resist, although for sure there will be more grief than forgetting] Marcelo Pakman and I lead this incredible, well-attended interest group to reflect on the myths and beliefs surrounding the experiences of Latin Americans living outside Latin America. We reflected on the experiences of staying, leaving, and returning — of staying in our countries of origin, or staying in other countries once we've left our own; of leaving either; and going back after having been gone. The myths about being "There" and being "Here" have fostered ways of thinking about our experiences that define our relationships. The group was designed to explore these nuances and whatever else the participants wanted to share. As one participant suggested, neither staying, nor leaving, nor going back ever offered perfect solutions. Instead, we talked about how any of these paths may have been taken in response to different challenges, depending on the point in our histories each decision arose. Once the discussion got under way, the experiences we heard, of transplanted therapists and of those whose family members and friends had departed, suggested some sort of a connection that was not apparent before the session began. The group reaffirmed, as Nacho Maldonado had stated, that it is possible for some of us to be "There" and for some of us to be "Here" and that we could all enjoy the possibilities of both. Ser Latinoamericano pero no vivir en Latino America es un destino bastante común—forma parte del ser Latino Americano. [3] To be a Latin American and, yet, not to live in Latin America is a common enough destiny—it is part of the Latin American identity. The experiences of Latino family therapists are not so different from other Latinos; we are a very heterogeneous group, though we are aware that many non-Latinos fail to notice cultural differences among us and perceive us as representatives of a single ethnicity. Our conversation took place in Miami, la última ciudad Latinoamericana en el norte del continente, the last Latin American city in the north of the continent. Hablamos en trés idiomas y a medida que conversamos el círculo se ampliaba al mismo tiempo que intentabamos mantenernos cercanos unos con otros. We spoke in Spanish, Portuguese, and English, and our conversation reflected the reality of Latinos in the US. As the group talked, more participants arrived, and the circle became increasingly bigger. And as the circle grew, we worked together to maintain a sense of intimacy and closeness. We inhabit that border zone, a place that is not just metaphorical and discursive but often real and concrete. Nos queríamos escuchar, era como recoger aspectos de nuestras identidades en las historias que cada uno contaba. There was a true hunger for listening; it was like gathering pieces of our own identities from the stories of the others. The experiences of leaving, staying, going, coming back, were told from various perspectives. Irse, quedarse, ir para alla, venir de vuelta, partir es morir un poco, los que nos quedamos añoramos lo que podríamos hacer en el lugar en el cual se supone que hay mas posibilidades, la pregunta es que es lo que se obtiene a cambio porque se pierde mucho a nivel de pertenencia. There was no clear answer to the question, "What do you obtain when you stay abroad, there must be something that keeps you here?" For those of us who left, there is an awareness that we continuously ask ourselves what we would have done if we had stayed. And for those who stayed, we ask what we would have done differently if we had left. Either way, we reflect on the virtual lives that we have not lived, no matter the place we actually inhabit. Through this process, though we are not always successful, we continuously attempt to validate the decision we made to stay or to go. Cuando alguién se vuelve emigrante, se vuelve emigrante para siempre, Como hacemos para mantener el mito del retorno sin que nos destruya? El deseo de volver es algo muy riesgoso porque es algo que puede destruir aquello que estamos construyendo ahí. Cuando vuelves a tu país de origen, continuas como emigrante, allá me dicen que camino muy ligero, acá me dicen que camino muy despacio. When someone becomes an immigrant, it is forever. How do we keep the myth of the return without destroying ourselves? The desire to return can be very risky; it is something that can destroy the life that you are building here. When you go back to your country of origin, it is as if you are an immigrant all over again. There, they tell me I walk too fast; here, they tell me I walk too slowly. Como tengo bastante años, yo escuche creciendo "Yankee Go Home." Ahora escucho "Vayamonos todos a Miami." When I was young, I always heard "Yankee Go Home." Now, I hear "Let's All Go to Miami." Ya no se que idioma hablo. I don't know the language I speak anymore. No hay ningun lugar, vivo aquí y allá, más allá de la profesion de los que se fueron y se quedaron, es el hecho de buscar un lugar que lo tenga todo. En esta dicotomía de irse o quedarse es lograr hacer sentido de mi vida de buscarse una buena justificación para lo que decidí, no hay lugar ideal en ninguna parte. No somos de allá ni de acá, cuando uno va para adelante como en la terapia, uno no puede volver para atrás. There is no one place that I can call my own. I live here and I live there. We are searching for that perfect place—the place that has everything—but there is no perfect place. We are just moving forward—it's like therapy—you just move forward. Loyalties and betrayals, losses and gains—these were also themes that the most recent immigrants talked about. These themes were reflected, for example, in the experiences of some of the women who accompanied their partners to other lands. Relocation, for them, often meant continually shifting their senses of self along with the places they called home. One participant told us that meetings like this one demonstrate to her that we are all distant neighbors, but that we become very close neighbors when we find ourselves talking to each other. Somos vecinos distantes, pero nos acercamos cuando nos encontramos en espacios como esta reunión, aquí recupero mi identidad. These experiences of dislocation and alienation have also changed with the availability of new ways of communicating between those who left and those who stayed. Phone and e-mail have changed the way immigrants keep contact with their friends and relatives abroad and, thus, some participants ventured that future generations of immigrants may experience their own relocation differently. At the same time, the global tribe has augmented the dominant presence of English as the communication channel for academics. Another powerful theme arose around the subject of differences. Our conversation followed a course that had us working to demystify the realities of family therapy in the US. At the same time, the realization was brought forth that family therapy continues to flourish in Latin America, and that a lack of resources may be balanced by the availability of people to carry out projects. Some participants noted that our peers experienced discrimination in their countries of origin after having lived abroad. In many countries, living abroad is seen as a winning proposition. However, if an immigrant comes back to live in her country, it is often viewed as a defeat. Es un mito eso de todo es mejor en el país de origen o todo es mejor en el país al que emigramos o los otros emigraron. Tenemos que apreciar aquello que es nuestro, no solo lo foraneo. Some participants discussed how one's ability to learn to speak another language is often appreciated as a sign of intelligence. Si habla Inglés, dicen: Vés este muchacho piensa ahora. While at the same time, those who are abroad struggle with the standards for writing that emphasizes similarity rather than difference. Marcelo suggested that the standards for written academic English often stress requirements that are foreign to our experience with written academic Spanish, which emphasizes a different set of narrative genres. We talked about the conquest and the colonization process. Spaniards, for instance, came to Latin America to gather goods for the monarchy. Those who ventured into Latin America were not planning to stay. In Argentina, there are still repatriation clubs for those who came and were not able to go back to Spain. There is a historic nostalgia and deep sense of feeling that those who stay are the losers and those who leave are the winners. We have a tremendous love for our native soil, but such ambivalence about staying. Latino America fue conquistada para llevar objetos de vuelta a la corona, y los que vinieron se quedaron porque no pudieron volver. Een Argentina hay clubes de la repatriación, de ahí quizás la nostalgia, el que se queda es de alguna manera un perdedor, el que se va es un ganador, el que vuelve es un perdedor por partida doble. Tenemos un amor loco por la tierra pero una ambivalencia acerda de ello. Fue difícil volver a instalarse de vuelta. A Chilean shared his recent adventure of traveling back to Chile after decades of exile. Like others, he experienced various forms of double exile, when, upon his return, he recognized the existence of several countries within one. An Argentinean shared a similar experience, noting that, now, as she travels from her home to her workplace, she can't help but observe the tremendous socio-economic differences that exist in her own country. Judging from the number of nodding heads, it seemed as though many others in the group have had similar experiences. My four year-old son has fallen in love with anything related to the ocean. A few weeks ago, he announced that he was adopting Cousteau as his new first name. When asked about the change, he reported that he would adopt the new name the next day—an announcement that was repeated for a few days. After a while, he revealed to us that he could not adopt this new name after all, since the French adventurer did not speak Spanish and English, as he does. Like my son, the participants in this interest group shared their stories about being and becoming immigrants in other lands. The stories were moving, funny, and most all, full of life. There was serious laughter, poetry, questions, serious metaphors, even, as one participant suggested in closing, an atmosphere that, in many ways, seemed quite therapeutic. Cuáles son los temas recurrentes de nosotros, aquellos temas que continuaremos conversando por muchos años? Which are the themes that we will continue talking about for many decades? Esperamos que continuemos creando estos espacios por muchos años, nos necesitamos, necesitamos marchar juntos y conversar juntos. We hope we continue creating these spaces; we need each other; we need to march and to talk together. Gonzalo Bacigalupe, Ed.D. is Assistant Professor and Director of the Family Therapy Program at the University of Massachusetts Boston. Gonzalo has a private practice in Newton, Massachusetts, and consult with child protective services and clinical teams that work collaboratively with families. A recently elected AFTA board member, he is the newly appointed chair of the Larger Systems Committee He can be contacted via e-mail at gonzalo.bacigalupe@umb.edu or http://omega.cc.umb.edu/~gonzalo
[1] I have chosen not to literally translate the article in keeping with the spirit of how we are part of here and there. I have freely quoted and translated participants ideas while I attempt to tell as much as possible about what transpired in the group. [2] Thanks to a participant who told us about this well -nown poet who recently recovered a disappeared grandchild leaving with a Uruguayan family. Juan Gelman poem (1959) is from the book "El Juego en que Andamos" in the poem "Mi Buenos Aires Querido." You can find his poems at http://www.literatura.org/Gelman/jgT1.html#Juego_que_andamos [3] When quoting a participant I have italicized. |
