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For me, discovering my newfound love of Latino music was not just the birth of a new passion, but also a matter of life and death.  As a second generation immigrant to the United States from Puerto Rico, my childhood growing up — and out — in Texas was full in every way of all the beauty of our Hispanic culture:  our celebrations were filled with the rhythms and beats of our people, and our tables laden with the fattening foods of our culture blended decadently with those of the southern US.  The result was me weighing about 180 lbs by the time I was 16.

I was a rebellious teenager, like most American girls.  My form of rebellion was to break away from the traditions of my heritage and take on those of the American pop scene.  I wanted to dress, speak, and eat like my Anglo friends at school.  When traditional dishes were served at home, I snubbed them, favoring American fast foods like burgers, fries, fried chicken and mashed potatoes, and lots of white bread.  As I drifted farther away from my own cultural identity, even the music I had grown up on became a source of consternation for me.  I was slightly ashamed each time I brought one of my friends over to spend a night at my home, because our house was full of enchiladas and Latino music, hot chili peppers drying on strings draped around the kitchen windows, and votive candles to various saints burning constantly around the house.  Now, I am embarrassed at my embarrassment.  We live, and learn.

So it was one weekend that my friend Brittney was spending the night, and she had never visited us before.  To her, my home was a beautiful, magical place.  She fell in love with the music and the food.  She said my family was exciting and my life colorful.  I began to rethink my opinions about my heritage, and to embrace it again.  Our prom was coming up soon, and I was overweight and worried I would not have a companion to bring.  My friend said, “With all of these dances and parties your family has on weekends, how can you be overweight?  If I were around this, I would be dancing a lot.”

So, I began to dance, and to enjoy my family meals again.  Months later, I was in love with everything about my culture as if it were all new to me, and in a way, it was.  The dancing had helped me to lose 30 lbs, and I felt beautiful and proud.  Then, I was invited to the prom by a boy I’d had a crush on for some time.  His name was Devon, and when he invited me, I was flattered.  But I had secretly come to notice my long time childhood friend Enrique had become a complete hunk.  I thanked Devon for inviting me, but I lied that I was going with Enrique.  Then, I asked Enrique!  And he said yes.

So the moral of this story is, no matter who you are, there is something wild and beautiful in Latino music, and it can change your life.  Dance, love, and live.