We recently connected with Hortencia Jimenez and have shared our conversation below.
Alright, Hortencia thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Was there a moment in your career that meaningfully altered your trajectory? If so, we’d love to hear the backstory.
A defining moment in my career was the death of my paternal grandmother in late March of 2022. My abuelita was a second mother. She was my rock and foundation and my last living huichol connection. Loosing her was loosing part of myself and my identity because I was raised by her when we immigrated to the United States in the early 1980s. I came here as an undocumented child, separated from my parents and sisters. My grandmother and aunt said I was here to earn an education because back in el rancho in Mexico, there were no educational opportunities, and my dad could not provide for my four sisters and me.
I grew up in a traditional, strict, conservative Catholic home where patriarchal and oppressive messages about women’s bodies and gender roles were constantly enforced. These messages usually occurred in the kitchen. Messages like, “Primero enseñate a lavar los calzones,” “Te tienes que enseñar a cocinar para cuando te cases,” (First learn to cook and clean
before you get married,) “A los hombres no les gustan las mujeres fracasadas,” (Men don’t like women who lose their virginity.) I learned from these gendered messages that una señorita is meant to save herself until marriage, serve men, cook, clean, and attend to men’s needs. These messages implied that men valued women for their purity and domesticity and expected them to be docile. I was constantly told that men would not love me or tolerate me because of my “attitude” iterations like, “Con ese genio que tienes, ¿Quien te va a querer?” (With that attitude, who is going to like you,) “Con ese carácter tan fuerte que tienes, ¿Quien te va aguantar? (Who is going to tolerate you with that character of yours?) Even though I did not feel confident and empowered to use my voice and speak up against patriarchy, I defied these ideologies in my mind. I knew these messages were unfair and felt them oppressive. I did not want to grow up serving men or marrying a machista. These messages were oppressive and toxic because they enforced heteronormativity, and anything that deviated from that was seen as immoral and sinful.
I grew up resenting my grandmother and aunt and internalizing a lot of self-hatred about myself. It took many years of spiritual healing and later as an adult through therapy to forgive and be compassionate with my grandmother and aunt. Breaking these generational cycles of oppression and trauma while grieving my abuelita has been excruciating painful because I loved her so much even though she caused me so much pain.
Who I am today is in large part due to my abuelita. “Darme cuenta que enterré a mi abuelita pero con mi abuelita murió la que yo era con ella.” When I buried my grandmother I buried who I was with her. Grieving has been messy, nonlinear, and excruciating. I have been in dark places of my life that I do not wish to experience ever again.
One of the ways I have been able to hold space for my grief and process my emotions and thoughts has been through gardening. It’s also a way to honor my grandmother and my ancestors and connect with Mother Earth. Pulling out weeds is a physical and spiritual act of cleansing, of identifying and letting go of toxic and oppressive narratives that keep holding me back. My grief has giving me the courage to begin my transformation from a caterpillar to a butterfly. It’s scary because I’m breaking generational cycles that no one in my family has dared to do. Birthing a new self is beautiful yet difficult and painful. I am letting go of parts of my identity that do not serve me anymore. I am rebirthing a new self and learning that this transformation and process is not perfect. It’s messy, complicated, and nonlinear. I am learning to be compassionate and hug my inner niña in the process.
I will continue to honor my abuelita by weaving all the strands of my identity (mujer, madre, scholar, health coach, community member) that intersect and that I refuse to choose one or be compertamentalize. May her spirit continue to guide me in my personal and professional life.
Hortencia, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
I’m a first generation college graduate from a working class immigrant background who is the first in the family from both my paternal and maternal side of the family to earn a Ph.D. I decided to pursue a Ph.D because I have always been passionate about education and wanted to make a difference in my community. I also wanted to be a role model for college students from similar backgrounds as mine.
Going through the educational system I always felt frustrated because I did not see myself represented in the teachers and faculty. Lacking Latina role models impacted my sense of belonging in college and I questioned my intellect and worth as a student. I also struggled with the imposter syndrome and was further amplified when I began my doctoral program. Having been exposed to ONE Latina faculty with a Ph.D. as an undergraduate gave me the hope that one day I too could earn a Ph.D.
As a professor I have published in a wide range of academic journals, have received numerous awards for my work both in the academy and community. What set’s me apart is that I weave my intersecting identities (mother, scholar, immigrant, health coach) in all the work I do. Who I am informs the research I do, what I do in the community, and what I teach in the community college classroom. This is important because it challenges the elitism in academia and the narrative that we have to choose one identity.
As a certified health coach and intuitive eating counselor I am breaking barriers in the the antidiet movement both on social media and in my community. I am one of the few Latinas from an immigrant and indigenous background dismantling diet culture from an intuitive eating and anti-oppressive lens.
For women of color like myself, it’s challenging and difficult to be part of the anti-diet and intuitive eating conversations of the wellness industry. While I recognize the great strides that this movement has made and the spaces it has created, I continue to feel frustrated that the dominant voices heard and centered are those of white, thin, heterosexual, and middle class women. There is a lack of representation of BIPOC. There is a growing platform of registered dieticians, health coaches, eating disorder advocates, and writers from communities of color doing amazing work on social media. We have been working in our communities before the major growth of anti-diet accounts on Instagram and TikTok.
What set’s me apart in my anti-diet work is first and foremost my intersecting identities and my educational background. Speaking from personal experience and working with Latinx undocumented immigrant populations, I have a unique lens in which I see diet culture and how I create and facilitate workshops in the community and institutions of higher education. Not only do I include the intuitive eating principles but I also discuss racism, nativism, food apartheid, mass incarceration and deportations, and other issues that affect Latinx communities. Too often, anti-diet culture narratives erase discussions of the connection of immigration, food, and identity. I remain hopeful that my work is brining healing and addressing some of these gaps.
I humbly join the anti-diet wellness space with a social and racial justice lens that centers on my experience as a Mexican immigrant and working with Latinx populations. I do not claim to be a representative of Latinx communities, but I do hope that my presence on social media can affirm and validate the experiences of others from similar backgrounds. Representation matters, our voices matter, and our experiences matter.
We’d love to hear a story of resilience from your journey.
There are two events that shaped my life and build my resiliency. The first one was immigrating to the U.S at a very young age leaving behind my parents and sisters. I was bullied and discriminated as a child for being undocumented, monolingual. and poor. I learned out of necessity not a choice to be strong and resilient even when I did not have the language to articulate my experiences as a child.
The second event was my father’s unexpected and traumatic death. I was two weeks from turning 18 when I received the news that my father was killed. He was tortured to death. I was getting ready to start my sophomore year of college and had to go to Mexico for the services. This was one of the most challenging experiences of my life, and I had to make a life-changing decision. I needed to decide if I would stay in Mexico with my mother and sisters or return to the U.S. and continue my education. As a child, I did not have a say about my future. I wasn’t asked what I wanted. I never wanted to be separated from my family. When I obtained my green card, I would go to Mexico with my grandmother, but we would have to return. I never wanted to come back. I would cry every time I left; no matter the tantrums or excuses I would make up to stay, it never worked. I had to return to the U.S. A few weeks later, after my father’s services, I told my mother and sisters I wanted to continue my education. This was difficult for my mother and sisters, who would have liked for me to stay, especially after losing my father. For the first time, I felt I had a voice and could make a life-changing decision. I returned to the U.S to continue my education.
What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?
Diet’s don’t work yet people continue to diet and fall in the diet cycle trap.
About 45 million people in the United States go on weight loss programs yearly, yet 95% of diets fail. There is strong evidence that diets don’t work. People are talking and writing about it from podcasts, media outlets, and scientific and scholarly articles. However, people continue to diet. Why? Because the diet culture industry is an industry that profits from your body image insecurities. Diet culture is worth about $72.7 million and is forecasted to grow 2.6% annually
through 2023. The U.S. Center for Disease Control and Prevention observes that more Americans are on a diet than a decade ago.
I was one of those individuals. I went on a few diets while in college. I gained weight and lost weight, going through the motions of the diet cycle from restricting, binging, and feeling like a failure for not following the diet to feeling shame and guilt and starting the diet again. I did not know then that diet’s didn’t work, and I felt like a failure and blamed myself. Little did I know that I was not the problem; diet culture was the problem. Dieting is not sustainable, and we cannot follow food rules that require restricting certain food groups. Our bodies are meant to be nourished, not restricted and punished. Yet, people continue to diet.
Making peace with food when people have dieted will take time. It’s not a linear or perfect process. Being compassionate is key in the anti-dieting journey.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.hortenciajimenez.com
- Instagram: drhortenciajimenez
- Linkedin: Hortencia Jimenez
Image Credits
N/A personal pictures