h u e h u e t l a t o l l i
Huehuetlatolli: of the Nahuatl language meaning “ancient history; or, the sayings of ancestors”
In the 16th century, the recently conquered Nueva España or modern day Mexico, a caste system or “castas” began to emerge as an attempt to categorize groups of the population who were becoming more and more mixed racially. With the line between the Spaniards and Indigenous peoples becoming increasingly blended, the social elites began indoctrinating ways to classify various racial groups and, more importantly, establish the corresponding privileges and restrictions that accompanied them.
While this caste system in Mexico has since been abolished, the desire to label people racially and culturally can been seen constantly throughout history and remains embedded in modern life. As new social movements emerge and old ones are revitalized, there is not just a push to reclaim one’s culture but to feel encouraged and proud to do so.
But what does cultural identity really mean? For some, racial identity is intrinsically linked to their cultural identity for better, or more often, for worse. For some, the world decides their label, their category. The inevitable conflict that arises is reckoning this external decision with their own.
However, I’ve found another dilemma that is a more internal one. What if you don’t know what your cultural identity is or if you even have one? It certainly wasn’t something I learned in school.
Most individuals who grew up in the American educational system are familiar with standardized testing. If you are then you probably also remember one of the first questions asked: “Please specify your race”.
As a child I knew my mother was Mexican and my father was white. My last name Köhn is spelled with an umlaut - a German accent that indicates pronunciation. My paternal great grandfather emigrated from Europe and any remnants of that culture have been lost in subsequent generations. I simply thought of my fathers side of the family as “white American”. My mother is 1st generation here in the States after my grandparents emigrated from Monte Escobedo in Zacatecas, Mexico. They settled in California, which is where I grew up. While its certainly an “Americanized” version, I experienced a much stronger presence of Latinx culture in my life then I did of my father’s family’s roots. And yet, I only ever felt “Mexican-ish”. Not truly Mexican but not fully white. I just have a “weird” German last name and prefer beans and tortillas over PBJs.
So sometimes I would check white and sometimes I would check Hispanic. They both felt like wrong answers to me or I was somehow lying. I never learned Spanish beyond some words and phrases. I recently asked my mom why she didn’t teach me, she replied “It was better not to”.
As an adult, I still find myself unsure whenever presented with this question. Especially with the concepts of white-washing and appropriation becoming more understood. How do I connect with my cultural identity if I don’t know what it is?
So I decided to try and find out.
Chapter 1: Race vs. Culture
First things first, I decided I wanted to know specifically what I was racially, or in more scientific terms - genetically. I ordered a 23andMe DNA test and eagerly awaited for the results. What I learned was pretty surprising. Firstly, I’m not German, like not at all. On my father’s side, I’m predominantly Norwegian and British/Irish (which is a strange sort of lumped together category) and charcuterie board of small samplings from all over south eastern Europe. So why do I have a German last name?
Secondly, I learned I’m much more equal parts Spanish and Native Mexican than I thought. Both my mom and her mom are rather light skinned with very olive undertones. Consequently, I’m very white passing. I always assumed there was very little if any, indigenous blood in me because of our skin color. So why did my mother’s side of the family never talk about it?
I realized that my racial identity did not equate to my cultural identity. I still felt a disconnect. This new information was helpful but impersonal and unfamiliar. So I decided to find a way to connect it more specifically to me and my past.
One feature of most DNA testing companies is their ability to find DNA relatives for you. 23andMe notified me it had found one for me on my mother’s side, but I had never heard of her. I reached out and asked if she knew or was related to either of my grandparents. Turns out she is my second cousin on my grandfathers side. Suddenly it dawned on me that my family tree had a lot of holes in it. How could I connect with my past if I don’t know who created it?
So I began researching the best resources for building out your family tree and landed on Ancestry.com. Since signing up I have added over 900 people to my family tree and have traced some lineages all the way back to the 1500s.
One of the biggest learnings from this undertaking was piecing together the origins of my name. As I combed through birth certificates, marriage licenses, and census reports I began to notice my last name (Köhn) being spelled differently. Most American forms spelled it either Köhn or simply Kohn. But the further back I went I began to notice it was sometimes spelled Køhn. This is the more traditional Norwegian way to write it. And while the German pronunciation is essentially the same as the Norwegian I’m still not sure why the German spelling stuck.
Similarly, I noticed another evolution of my mother’s maiden name - Pineda. Almost all Mexican forms write is as Pinedo, sometimes Piñedo. After my grandmother came to the United States, it became Pineda.
Chapter 2: Shared Pieces
Family is one of our biggest links to the past. Traditions are passed down, stories are told and often through them cultural education is learned. Yet, when these links are severed these connections are lost. Building my family tree has given me names, dates and places that help rebuild this bridges to my past but since almost all have passed on I found that I would have to teach myself if I wanted to know more.
I have pieces of who my ancestors were and thus myself, but they still felt abstract. I decided it was time to give my frame of reference more context. I started to absorb as much research as I could starting from the beginning.
Resources*:
“The Fifth Sun” - Camilla Townsend
“Aztec Thought and Culture” - Miguel León Portilla
“Aztec and Maya Myths” - Karl A. Taube
“The Gods and Symbols of Ancient Mexico” - Karl A. Taube
Ancient Mesoamerica, lecture series by Edwin Barnhart via Great Courses
“Mexico: History and Present” podcast
“Revolutions” podcast
“The Scandinavian History Podcast” by Michael Shainkman
“Norse Mythology” - Neil Gaiman
“The Vikings” - Jonathon Clements
The Celts: Blood, Iron and Sacrifice, docuseries by Neil Oliver
“Celtiberian Ideologies and Religion” by Gabirel Sopeña
The Celts, lecture series by Jennifer Paxton via Great Courses
*This list is still growing
While I wanted to learn about these cultures’ ancient and modern history, I noticed that their stories and mythologies really resonated with me. Specifically those that existed in a pre-colonized and pre-Catholic time. I am the product of some of the most colonizing and colonized peoples throughout history. Spain conquered Mexico and managed to decimate the indigenous population and their beliefs extremely quickly and efficiently. Britain has invaded over 90% of the world’s countries. Pagan ideologies that existed in Scandinavian and Celtic cultures were criminalized and when that didn’t work simply rebranded as part of the Church. Reckoning with these violent and brutal pasts is painful.
Pieces of these cultures can still be found today. Friday is named after Freya, a major deity in the Norse pantheon. Dias de los Muertos was an indigenous holiday before the Catholic church absorbed it and called it All Saints Day. These mementos sprinkled throughout the modern world are a testament to the resilience of these cultures, beliefs and people. And they are worth remembering. Worth examining. Worth learning from. One has an obligation to confront ugly truths and learn from them. Often we abuse the privilege of not having to be exposed to these truths. Those who did go through these pasts, these histories, didn’t have that option. The best way we can honor them is to take a hard look at history and learn to grow from it.
Hundreds of years ago, our ancestors were making choices that would shape the future to ultimately lead to our own creation. We can’t choose these pieces of us. But we can learn about these pieces and choose what we take with us forward through time. By learning about these pasts, these stories, these people, we learn about ourselves. By looking at a story that someone, separated by centuries from myself, grew up hearing and learning from I can reform that connection. I can bridge that gap to another culture that led to my own place in the world. I can carry these shared pieces with me through time.