Why is it Socially Acceptable for Men, but not Women, to Hold Onto Childhood Interests?

an image of a girl playing videogames with two guys

When it comes to the intersection of gender, culture, and nostalgia, it becomes evident that societal expectations for men and women are vastly different, especially considering how adults are allowed, or rather, expected to interact with “childish” things.

While men worldwide continue playing video games and buying toys without facing much criticism, women face societal pressure to abandon such interests.

Video games, once seen as a pastime exclusively for children, have grown into a multi-billion-dollar industry with a vast adult demographic. Over the years, games have evolved, becoming a legitimate form of art and entertainment for adults. For many men, this evolution has made it socially acceptable to continue gaming well into adulthood.

Similarly, collecting action figures, Legos, or other childhood memorabilia is often seen as a harmless and even endearing hobby for many adult men. It's viewed as an avenue for nostalgia and a bridge to one’s younger self.

Women, on the other hand, face more rigid expectations. Activities or interests deemed "childish" are seen as immaturity or an inability to grow up. A woman who collects dolls or still enjoys a children's show might even be made fun of. The societal narrative suggests that women should transition from playing with toys to nurturing real children, and those who don’t follow this path are looked upon with skepticism.

These gendered norms, when placed within the context of Latine culture, become even more pronounced. Latine culture, rich in tradition, places a strong emphasis on family values and roles. Often, Latinas are expected to become the backbone of the family, taking on caregiving roles, and preparing to be mothers. The concept of "marianismo" – the idea that Latinas should be virtuous, sacrificing, and motherly, emulating the Virgin Mary – illustrates this perfectly.

Photo by Polesie Toys: https://www.pexels.com/photo/a-girl-in-red-long-sleeve-dress-holding-a-baby-doll-toy-4491692/

Thus, a Latina woman showing interest in what society deems as "childish" might face stronger pushback than her counterparts in other cultures. The expectation is for her to mature quickly, often at the expense of her individual passions and interests.

Navigating societal expectations is a challenging maze that seems to expand with each turn. However, the question remains: Why should society dictate which childhood hobbies are deemed appropriate to continue into adulthood, all based on our gender?

These activities, often dismissed as 'childish,' can be therapeutic outlets that allow us to destress, express creativity, and maintain a sense of continuity in our lives. They're an echo of simpler times, bringing a sense of joy and comfort that can serve as a counterweight to adult pressures and responsibilities. In essence, there should be no guilt or shame attached to enjoying what we love, regardless of our age or gender. Let's not forget that self-care isn't just about diet, exercise, or meditation—it's also about allowing ourselves to partake in activities that bring us happiness and inner peace.

The hope is for a future where individuals' passions and interests are celebrated and encouraged, irrespective of their age, gender, or cultural background, where men and women alike can enjoy their love for video games, toys, or any other 'childish' pastime without fear of judgment or societal scorn.

After all, who said growing up means leaving behind the things that once brought joy?

When it comes to the golden age of Mexican cinema, Sara García Hidalgo, known simply as Sara García, stands out as one of the female figures who paved the way. She’s one of the icons of Mexican cinema, and her influence has spanned generations. García’s most well-known role wasn’t for movies, though, she’s most famous for being the face of the “Abuelita” Mexican-style hot cocoa by Nestle.

Mexico’s Abuelita

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With her gesture and presence, she defined the archetype of the loving abuelita who warmed your bones on cold winter nights and delivered comfort to millions of Latino families as they settled in for novelas or family gatherings. The nostalgia of a hot cup of Mexican hot chocolate is forever connected with García’s tender and welcoming face.

Her lengthy career of more than 100 films from titles like "En Defensa Propia" (1917) to "Sexo vs Sexo" (1979), showcased García’s prowess as an actress but even beyond her status as Mexico’s abuelita, García’s personal journey reveals a much more complex woman. There’s more to García than what she was able to show at the time.

Sara García’s Humble Beginnings 

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Born into a modest family, Sara García's early life was defined by hardship and loss. She was the eleventh child of Isidoro García Ruíz, a Cordovan architect and sculptor, and Felipa Hidalgo Rodríguez. Her family traveled from Andalucía, Spain, to Cuba, and finally to Mexico. García came into the world in September 1895 on a ship during the family’s journey to Mexico City, and her birth was assisted by the González Cuenca family, who were fellow passengers. This family would play a key role in her life later on.

Unfortunately, García lost her father when she was only 5 years old. After that, her mother started working as a housekeeper and, at 9 years old, García entered the prestigious school “Las Vizcaínas.” During this time, the González Cuenca family supported García’s mother financially and morally. At 10 years old, García contracted typhoid and her mother was infected as well, but she didn’t survive, making García an orphan.

At that point, she became interned at the school and the González Cuenca family would take her home every week so she could spend time with their two daughters. At 14 years old, García became a substitute teacher for a drawing class. Eventually, she left the school and became a private teacher. When she started her acting career at 22, she was still a teacher.

Curiosity often kills the cat, but in this case, it’s actually what set García on her path. One day, she was strolling by the Alameda and she came upon the Azteca Films studios. It’s reported that she decided to go in and became fascinated by what she saw. That’s when the possibility of acting became real for her and she was determined to make it even if it was only in theater. Her journey began in the theater, where she honed her craft by learning from seasoned actors like Eduardo Arozamena. García's theatrical debut at the Fábregas Theater marked the beginning of a remarkable career that would later extend to the silver screen.

The Rise to Fame

Promotional image of the film 'En Defensa Propia' published on IMDB.

When García entered the Mexican cinema scene in the 20th century, the industry was booming. In 1917, she made her film debut in "En Defensa Propia," directed by Joaquín Coss. While her initial roles were modest, García's talent and dedication soon caught the attention of filmmakers, which led to bigger and better opportunities throughout the years. Slowly but surely, she was cementing her place in the Mexican film industry.

In 1934, García got her breakthrough moment with the role of an elderly woman in the play "Mi Abuelita la Pobre." She was so determined to get that part that she underwent a radical transformation. That transformation included the removal of 14 teeth so she would be more convincing. Today, we can see that as quite an extreme approach to method acting, but it paid off. García got the role and it earned her the kind of critical acclaim that established her as the quintessential abuelita figure in Mexican theater.

Sara García’s cultural impact

Photo shared by Leyendas Costumbres Y Tradiciones De Mexico on Facebook

Throughout the 1930s and 1940s, García's career reached new heights and she further solidified her status as Mexico’s abuelita. With movies such as "No te Engañes Corazón" (1937) and "Allá en el Trópico" (1940), she showcased her versatility as an actress. As a result, audiences across Mexico became enamored with her. Sadly, while 1940 was the year she got her first movie role playing an abuelita in “Allá en el Trópico,” it was also the year when she lost her daughter to typhoid.

García would continue her career and it was her role in "Cuando los Hijos se Van" (1941) alongside Fernando Soler that cemented her legacy as the best representation of maternal virtue and resilience. In that movie, she portrayed a devoted mother facing adversity, which resonated with audiences and elevated García into a national treasure. As Mexican cinema evolved in the post-war era, García continued to captivate audiences with her nuanced performances. From the comedic romps of the 1950s to the social dramas of the 1960s, García remained an enduring presence on screen, embodying many of the values that Latinos hold dear, such as family, sacrifice, and resilience.

García’s cultural impact was established even further and went beyond Mexican cinema when she became the official face of the “Abuelita” hot chocolate from Nestle in 1973. She was chosen because she embodied the brand’s mission perfectly–bringing families together. Having captured the hearts of Mexicans and earning the public’s affection through her movies, García’s persona fit the brand’s essence like a glove. Her face was already a symbol of warmth and that was beautifully captured in the brand’s logo, which shows García in traditional grandmother clothes, with a sweet smile and a cup of hot cocoa in her hands. Today, the “Abuelita” logo continues to honor García and is a symbol that keeps her legacy alive, immortalizing her as a beloved icon of Mexican culture.

García’s Double Life

Like many celebrities of this time, while García was building her status as a Mexican icon, aspects of her private life and identity had to remain in the shadows. It wasn’t openly known at the time, but García was a lesbian. She found the love of her life in Rosario González Cuenca, one of the daughters of the González Cuenca family, who would be her lifelong partner and confidante.

However, before she spent a part of her life with González Cuenca, García was married to a man, actor Fernando Ibañez. They got married in 1917, 3 months after meeting each other, and 3 years later, they welcomed a daughter, Sara Fernanda Amada Mercedes Ibañez García. Shortly after that, they got divorced and García started the balancing act of pursuing her acting career while also caring for her daughter and educating her.

As fate would have it, García stumbled upon her childhood friend Rosario González Cuenca at a corset shop while she was shopping for costumes for a play. In the biography about Sara García written by Fernando Muñoz, he stated, “Sara returned to the bosom of the González Cuenca family. Rosario and Sara made a pact of honor, love, fraternity, and indissoluble sisterhood.” González Cuenca was also divorced when they reunited and they became inseparable from then on, spending almost 60 years together. Despite the societal constraints at the time, which required discretion, García and González Cuenca shared a bond that transcended friendship.

Sara García's passing on November 21, 1980, at the age of 85, marked the end of an era in Mexican cinema, but her legacy endures not just as a movie icon, but as a Latina woman. Rosario González Cuenca was her only heir and she passed 3 years later in 1983, at the age of 87. She died alone but surrounded by the memories of the life she shared with García.

While the life she shared with the woman she loved was a quiet one, a look back on Sara García’s life underscores the strength it took to live authentically, even if it was behind closed doors. The Abuelita staring back at you from that Mexican chocolate package is a reminder that love is love and is raising a hot cup of chocolate to toast to that.

The world has seen countless inspiring women rise up to fight for justice and equality, particularly for marginalized and oppressed communities. Their tireless advocacy has brought much-needed attention to issues such as women's and Indigenous rights, environmental justice, and preserving Indigenous knowledge and culture.

Despite their challenges and obstacles, these women serve as powerful role models and reminders of the transformative potential of grassroots activism.

Take a closer look at their extraordinary lives and legacies:

Comandanta Ramona

Photo by bastian (Heriberto Rodriguez) on Wikimedia Commons

Comandanta Ramona, born in 1959 in a Tzotzil Maya community in the highlands of Chiapas, Mexico, was a founding member of the Zapatista Army of National Liberation (EZLN), based in the same region. She served as a spokesperson for the group and came to represent the Indigenous resistance movement.

But Ramona's impact extended far beyond her leadership role within the EZLN. As a woman in a male-dominated organization, she challenged gender norms and fought tirelessly for gender equality. She spoke out against gender-based violence and worked to empower women in Indigenous communities, advocating for their participation in decision-making processes and establishing women's cooperatives.

Ramona's contributions to the Zapatista movement were groundbreaking. She helped establish the Revolutionary Law of Women, recognizing women's contributions to the struggle for Indigenous rights and granting them equal rights. She paved the way for women's leadership within the movement through her efforts.

Ramona's legacy as a feminist and Indigenous leader continues to inspire activists and social justice movements worldwide. Although she passed away in 2006 after battling cancer, her spirit lives on in the struggle against oppression and discrimination.

Rigoberta Menchú

Photo by CorteIDH on Flickr

Rigoberta Menchú, a Nobel Peace Prize laureate and K'iche' Maya woman from Guatemala, has dedicated her life to advocating for women's and Indigenous rights. Growing up in a family of Indigenous peasants, Menchú experienced firsthand the discrimination and poverty that Indigenous communities face.

Menchú became involved in social justice movements at a young age and joined the Committee of Peasant Unity. This group fought for land rights and the empowerment of Indigenous communities. During Guatemala's civil war, she spoke out against government-sanctioned violence and human rights abuses, becoming a prominent voice for Indigenous women's rights.

Menchú's groundbreaking book "I, Rigoberta Menchú," published in 1983, chronicled her experiences growing up as an Indigenous woman in Guatemala and the struggles faced by her community. The book became an international bestseller, spotlighting Indigenous issues and women's rights in Latin America.

Menchú's advocacy and activism earned her numerous accolades, including the Nobel Peace Prize in 1992. But her work is far from over. She continues to fight for the rights of Indigenous people and women, advocating for issues such as access to healthcare and education, and raising awareness about domestic violence and sexual assault.

Aura Lolita Chávez Ixcaquic

Photo by Paula López Reig on Wikimedia Commons

Aura Lolita Chávez Ixcaquic, a K'iche' Maya woman from Guatemala, is a prominent voice in the global fight for environmental and Indigenous rights, defending their land and natural resources against exploitation and destruction.

But her activism has not come without challenges. As a woman in a patriarchal society, Chávez Ixcaquic has faced discrimination, violence, and even death threats for her tireless efforts to promote justice and equality.

But despite these challenges, she has worked to raise awareness about Indigenous women's obstacles, including gender-based violence, discrimination, and lack of access to healthcare and education. She was a finalist for the prestigious Sakharov Human Rights Prize and was awarded the Romero Human Rights Award for her environmental and Indigenous rights activism.

Chávez Ixcaquic's leadership has been crucial in promoting greater participation of women in decision-making processes and leadership positions within Indigenous communities. She has served as a mentor and role model for young Indigenous women, inspiring them to become activists and advocates for their communities.

Guadalupe Vázquez Luna

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Guadalupe Vázquez Luna is a Mexican activist, artisan, and councilwoman who represents the Tzotzil people in the National Indigenous Congress and is a survivor of the Acteal massacre.

Despite the devastating impact of losing her parents and five siblings in the Acteal massacre, Guadalupe persevered with tenacity and determination. Despite the rampant machismo in her community trying to hold her back, she completed her elementary and secondary education.

Her activism aims to achieve justice for her people, fight against so-called "death projects," and bring attention to the region's problems. On International Women's Day 2018, Vázquez Luna led a group of women from Las Abejas in a protest against the military presence in their communities. She confronted soldiers at the military barracks in Majomut, Chenalho, with a powerful message of unity and respect.

Vázquez Luna's story and that of Las Abejas de Acteal are told in the documentary "Lupita. Que retiemble la tierra," directed by Mónica Wise and Eduardo Gutiérrez Wise in 2019, provides insight into different facets of her life, such as being a mother, a fearless activist, an orator, and a leader.

Berta Cáceres

Photo by UN Environment on Wikimedia Commons

Berta Cáceres was a Honduran environmental and Indigenous rights activist who fought for the rights of women and Indigenous communities in Honduras.

As a member of the Lenca Indigenous community, Cáceres was a prominent leader in the struggle against large-scale development projects that threatened Indigenous lands and resources. She founded the Civic Council of Popular and Indigenous Organizations of Honduras (COPINH), a grassroots organization that advocated for Indigenous rights and environmental justice.

She advocated for the inclusion of women in leadership positions within Indigenous communities and called for greater participation of women in decision-making processes. Cáceres also supported the creation of women's cooperatives and other initiatives to empower women and promote economic development in Indigenous communities.

In 2016, unknown gunmen assassinated Cáceres in her home, sparking international outrage. Her death was widely seen as a result of her activism and the threats she faced for her work defending Indigenous and environmental rights.

Despite her tragic death, Cáceres continues to inspire activists and Indigenous communities worldwide to fight for justice, equality, and the protection of their lands and resources.

Leydy Pech

Wikimedia Commons

An Indigenous Mayan beekeeper born and raised in the city of Hopelchén in Campeche, Mexico, Leydy Pech has become a leading voice in the global fight for environmental and Indigenous rights. Her tireless advocacy has brought much-needed attention to the importance of protecting the environment and the rights of Indigenous communities, especially women.

Pech's leadership has been instrumental in promoting the rights of Indigenous communities to control their own resources and determine their own development. She has been a fierce opponent of large-scale agro-industrial projects that threaten Indigenous lands and resources, such as the use of genetically modified crops.

But Pech's activism goes beyond environmental concerns. She has also been a vocal advocate for women's rights within Indigenous communities, raising awareness about the challenges faced by Indigenous women, including gender-based violence and discrimination.

As a beekeeper, Pech has also been a strong advocate for the conservation of bees and other pollinators, which play a crucial role in sustaining biodiversity and agriculture. She has promoted sustainable and community-based beekeeping practices that benefit both Indigenous communities and the environment.
Luz Media

Continuing with our summer series, “Latinas Who Lead,” we bring you another group of impressive Latina activists in the U.S. putting in the work in their communities to improve the lives of those they are representing. Whether you’re looking for Latina women to support and champion, or you need inspiration for your own activism, these women are examples of leadership, resilience, and empowerment. Check out the first installment if you missed it, but if you’re up-to-date, here are 5 Latina activists to keep an eye on:

Juleyka Lantigua 

Photo by Juleyka Lantigua

Juleyka Lantigua is a journalist and entrepreneur, Founder and CEO of award-winning digital media studio, LWC Studios, which focuses on making podcasts for clients who highlight stories that matter. LWC Studios also produces original podcasts, many of which are focused on Latino experiences and stories. Lantigua is the producer of the “Latina to Latina” podcast hosted by Alicia Menendez, a TV commentator, host, and author who also works on MSNBC’s “The Weekend,” a show that provides analysis of the big events of the week. “Latina to Latina” showcases remarkable Latinas in business, politics, arts, and more, giving a platform to Latinas making an impact across industries.

Her body of work is as diverse as it is award-winning. She also produces the “70 Million: One Jail at a Time” podcast, which focuses on the effects local jails have on people and communities, and sheds light on how communities across the country are addressing jail reform. The podcast was nominated in 2020 for a Peabody Award and won Best Narrative/Documentary Podcast at the New York Festivals Radio Award in 2020.

LWC Studios also recently launched “100 Latina Birthdays,” a documentary podcast that focuses on Latina health. It’s a narrative investigative series that reports on the key health issues Latinas face in the U.S. at every stage of their lives. The first season focuses on issues starting in utero to age 20. The following seasons will continue exploring different age groups through age 100.

Lantigua was born in the Dominican Republic, and her family moved to the U.S. when she was 10 years old. She grew up in the Bronx, went to Skidmore College, and was awarded a Fulbright scholarship, which provides grants for U.S. citizens to go abroad and citizens from other countries to come to the U.S. to study, teach, research, and share their talents and skills. Lantigua holds a Master's in Print Journalism and an MFA in Creative Nonfiction, which she has used to create platforms that the Latino community can benefit from for over 20 years, and in many ways, this is only the beginning for Lantigua.

Dr. Carmen Rojas

Photo by Dr. Carmen Rojas

Of Venezuelan and Nicaraguan descent, Dr. Carmen Rojas is the President and CEO of the Marguerite Casey Foundation, which works for a healthy democracy and a just economy. She has had this role since 2020 when she became the youngest Latina to lead a nationally endowed philanthropic foundation. The foundation’s mission is to help create a country where underrepresented communities are no longer ignored by the government. To achieve this goal, they fund organizations, initiatives, scholars, and leaders who work on shifting the power balance to communities that are constantly excluded from having any say in society.

Under Dr. Rojas’ leadership, the foundation launched the prestigious Freedom Scholars award, a program designed to support scholars with a one-time $250,000 award to further research in areas like feminist prison abolition, Indigenous erasure, global urbanism, alternatives to movement capture, and militarized policing. Since 2020, the program has granted over $130 million in funding to a variety of organizations and individuals including Angélica Cházaro, J.D, co-founder of La Resistencia, a grassroots organization focused on ending immigrant detention, deportations, and the Northwest Detention Center; Lorgia Garcia Peña, PhD, a scholar on Latinx studies, global Blackness, and Dominican diaspora studies; Sarah Haley, PhD, whose work focuses on gender and women’s history, prison abolition, Black feminist history and theory, and more; among others.

Dr. Rojas has dedicated her entire career to working with foundations, nonprofits, and financial institutions to make a difference in the lives of working people all over the U.S. She’s also a member of the boards of Nonprofit Quarterly, Blue Ridge Labs, San Francisco Federal Reserve's Community Advisory Council, and the Confluence Racial Equity Initiative Advisory Committee. It’s not easy being one of the few, but Rojas is an advocate who dreams boldly, is a passionate philanthropist, and is an inspiring figure in the world of philanthropy where systemic change is hard to come by.

Rachel Carmona

Photography by Kisha Bari

Rachel O’Leary Carmona is the current Executive Director at both Women’s March and Women’s March Network. Women’s March is one of the largest political platforms for women and the most impactful grassroots organization on the progressive spectrum. Carmona is a first-generation Mexican American, and she’s dedicated her career to inspiring, mobilizing, and empowering people to have a say in the actions and policies that affect their communities.

Carmona began as the Chief Operating Officer of Women’s March in 2018 and transitioned into her current role in 2019. She helped transform the organization by overseeing the creation of its infrastructure and the incorporation of the Women’s March Network. Carmona also established Women’s March Win, a Super PAC dedicated to empowering and mobilizing women politically.

Under Carmona’s leadership, the Women’s March has grown exponentially, mobilizing thousands of marchers every year, with 2018 boasting an estimated 300,000 marchers across the U.S. The Women’s March voter mobilization efforts played an important role in a national coalition that led to Trump’s loss in the 2020 elections.

Moreover, Carmona spearheaded a change in approach: the Women’s March isn’t just about an annual march in Washington D.C. They expanded their on-the-ground organizing efforts to take action throughout the year, with efforts focused on stopping abortion bans, standing against gun violence, rejecting white nationalism, demanding dignity for survivors, and more. Women’s March has mobilized tens of millions of individuals to work for a more feminist future, and they’re now consistently on the front lines of transformative social change.

Liz Alarcon

Photo by Liz Alarcon

Liz Alarcon is a Venezuelan American communicator, facilitator, social entrepreneur, political analyst, and speaker. She has held a variety of roles in her career, including Director of Strategic Partnerships for The Children's Movement of Florida, Producer and Reporter at Univision, Miami Director of the Leadership Program for the Millennium Campus Network, Debate Teacher at Archimedean Upper Conservatory, and Analyst at Bendixen & Amandi International. There doesn’t seem to be much this powerhouse can’t do.

Alarcon is a proud alumna of the University of Miami and Georgetown University School of Foreign Service and is another Fulbright Scholarship recipient. She is also the Founder and Executive Director of Pulso, a non-profit media outlet dedicated to sharing news and stories for and about Latinos. Pulso reaches a subscriber base of over 2 million Latinos across their media platforms, across the U.S., and is committed to building community for a population that rarely sees their history told accurately or their experiences reflected authentically.

Alarcon has written and provided commentary for publications like The New York Times, MSNBC, & The Atlantic, among others. One of the main focuses of her work is increasing people’s understanding of Latin America and empowering Latinos in the U.S., making them feel seen while also engaging them so they can increase their political power through civic participation and advocacy.

Irene Godinez

Photo by Vote Run Lead

Irene Godinez is a force in the world of activism, particularly within the non-profit sector. With almost 15 years of dedicated service to her community, she’s left a mark on various organizations at local, state, and national levels. Of Mexican descent, Godinez is committed to causes close to her heart, including immigration, women's health and reproductive rights, civic engagement, and community outreach.

As the founder and executive director of Poder NC Action, Godinez is leading the fight for reproductive and economic justice in North Carolina. With a decade of experience in the abortion rights space, she anticipated the challenges that have now arisen in the space of abortion rights, and she sees them as a rallying cry for action. She’s determined to elect leaders who uphold and champion the rights of women to be whole and independent humans with full bodily autonomy.

Poder NC Action is a nonprofit organization dedicated to building people's power, investing in leadership development, and educating the public about critical issues and elections. At its core, Poder NC Action strives to cultivate a sense of belonging and efficacy among Latino individuals, challenging historical distrust of government and fostering a community rooted in shared values. Godinez envisions a world where political leadership reflects the diversity of its constituents, so she advocates for justice and equality, especially when it comes to reproductive rights for the Latino, Black, and LGBTQIA+ communities.

Luz Media

If Latinos in the U.S. were an independent country, their GDP would be 5th in the world, beating the United Kingdom, France, and India. That’s what this study found in 2023, and it speaks to how productive Latinos are in the U.S. That said, the wage gap for Latinos is still a major issue, with them earning 32% less than their white counterparts. Knowing that, it comes as no surprise that the wealth gap between Latino families and white families has surpassed $1 million, according to a recent report from the LA Times.


The Wage Gap

Photo by Alexander Mils on Unsplash

For Latinas, the wage gap is quite concerning. On average, they only make 57 cents for every dollar a man makes. That’s fueled by a combination of factors, including systemic oppression, xenophobia, and the need for greater financial literacy. For many Latinas, this combination of factors has reawakened the effects of the generational trauma that comes from financial hardship.

But in the face of these reports and statistics, there’s a growing group of Latinas making space for themselves and other women of color in the personal finance world. While the financial services industry has historically looked white and male, Latinas are showing up on social media platforms to teach other women how to build wealth not only for themselves but for generations to come.

From investing to eliminating debt, these Latinas are tackling a subject that remains taboo in many Latino families out of fear of being considered greedy or too ambitious. Here are five Latinas who are creating financial literacy courses, using social media platforms to connect with their audience, and sharing their own personal finance stories along the way.

​Jully-Alma Taveras​ 

Photo by investinglatina on Instagram

Photo by investinglatina on Instagram

Jully-Alma Taveras is the self-described JLo of personal finance. A Dominican raised in New York, Taveras created Investing Latina in 2019 to teach Latinas how to start investing in the stock market. She began investing at age 19, becoming the first person in her family to open a retirement account. Her Youtube channel has nearly 60 videos of free content, including responses to questions that come directly from her followers, and she regularly breaks down complex financial topics into Instagram posts that are easy to understand. As a personal finance expert, she inspires women to spend intentionally and have a minimalist lifestyle so they can invest more. Her focus is on introducing women to investing so they can take their first steps toward financial freedom.

Anna N’Jie-Konte 

Photo by anjiekonte on Instagram

Photo by anjiekonte on Instagram

Anna N’Jie-Konte is a first-generation American of Puerto Rican and Gambian descent. She’s a certified financial planner and fiduciary dedicated to facilitating the economic liberation of people of color. N’Jie-Konte is a native New Yorker who worked in the financial services industry before launching her own firm, Re-Envision Wealth, where she offers wealth management services. She also uses her platform on Instagram to offer insights about finances for small business owners. More recently, she announced “The Financial Powerhouse: The Club,” a no-fluff community for people who want to learn about wealth-building tools and have more in-depth conversations about financial fluency, and more.

Jannese Torres

Photo by Jannese Torres

Photo by Jannese Torres

Jannese Torres is the host of “Yo Quiero Dinero”, a personal finance podcast created for Latinas and people of color. An engineer by day and self-described side hustle guru, she advises Latinas to build multiple streams of income and teaches money-making strategies to help women succeed. Torres, a first-generation Puerto Rican woman, is also a fierce advocate of investing with the goal of early retirement. Her content on Instagram, TikTok, and the podcast addresses topics from tackling debt to estate planning to financial independence and more. Recently, Torres became an author with “Financially Lit!” the ultimate guide for modern Latinas to become financially powerful.

Delyanne Barros 

Photo by Delyanne Barros

Photo by Delyanne Barros

Delyanne Barros went from attorney to money coach, and she’s dedicated to helping investors take the stock market by storm. Barros, who spent her early years in Brazil before growing up as an undocumented immigrant in Miami, first invested about $50K a few months before the pandemic led to a market crash. She overcame that by growing that amount to over $425K – all while paying off over $100K in student debt. Today, Barros advocates for investing for retirement with low-cost index funds. Her following has increased consistently on TikTok and Instagram, where she regularly shares brief videos and posts explaining the stock market, breaking down investing myths and updating her audience on news that may affect their finances. Barros doesn’t gatekeep her knowledge, offering a free class, Invest for Independence®, to introduce people to the stock market in a way that finally makes sense.

Linda Garcia 

Photo by Linda Garcia

Photo by Linda Garcia

Linda Garcia, a Californian with roots in Mexico, began investing several years into her career as a marketing executive in television and film. She’s dedicated to helping the Latino community restructure their generational beliefs on finance and she introduces people to the stock market so they can achieve their dreams. Her “Wealth Warrior” course not only breaks the stock market down but also helps children of immigrants address their toxic relationship with money. Garcia is the founder of In Luz We Trust, an online community where she shares a wealth of resources. She’s also the co-host of the "Investies" podcast, which offers insights into the current stock market and the state of the economy.

These five Latinas are only a few among a growing community focused on creating generational wealth. But this wave of personal finance Latinidad comes at a time when Latinas and Black women across the United States continue making cents on the dollar that white men earn.

Next time you feel anxious about your finances, look them up to learn how to take control of money and heal your relationship with it. And remember – the wage gap that Latinas and other women of color experience can only be narrowed if we talk about money. So let’s build our emergency savings funds, address our debt, and invest in the stock market so we can build the generational wealth that will help our families for years to come.

Luz Media

Recent data from the Consumer Price Index (CPI) revealed that prices increased by 3.2 percent between February 2023 and February 2024. In terms of inflation, that’s a notable decrease from the 9.1 percent increase recorded in June 2022. However, inflation being down doesn’t necessarily mean the cost of living is getting lower. Quite the contrary–factors like income stagnation, transportation expenses, housing costs, and debt burden, among others, make living in the U.S. very expensive. In fact, The U.S. is currently the 20th most expensive country to live in according to a report from CEOWORLD Magazine.

With this in mind, it’s not surprising that Americans seem to be flocking to Latin America to retire, work, enjoy a lower cost of living, and even invest. Looking at Mexico City alone, the number of Americans who applied for residency visas or renewed them rose by 70% between 2019 and 2022, as reported by CNBC. It’s worth noting that the influx of Americans, including digital nomads, has sparked gentrification concerns among locals.

The disparity in income between Americans and locals increases tensions, leading to rising rents and displacement of native residents. While Airbnb and the Mexican government promote the city as a remote work hub, locals demand regulation to preserve their communities.

Another thing worth noting is that while Americans who relocate to Latin America in search of a more comfortable life are called “expats” (short for expatriate), Latinos who do the same by relocating to the United States are called “immigrants.” But what makes one an expat and the other an immigrant? The basic definition of expat is a person who lives outside of their native country temporarily, usually referring to workers. With this definition, it follows that any person who leaves their country to work in another for a time would be an expat.

In reality, that’s not the case and expat is usually a term that’s reserved for western white people. For Latinos, Asians, Arabs, and Africans, the term tends to be immigrant, no matter the context.

Technically speaking, there is a difference between the terms expat and immigrant. The immigrant lives permanently in another country and may seek citizenship, while the expat lives and/or works in another country. They may or may not stay indefinitely. However, the distinction isn’t made based on whether the terms are used correctly or not, the distinction is made based on social class, economic status, country of origin, and education level. The terms have become hierarchical and implicit bias is the reason why Westerners are always expats, and everyone else is an immigrant.

You could be a highly educated Latino living in the U.S. because you were sent to work there in a multinational organization, and you wouldn’t be perceived as an expat - you would be perceived as an immigrant. At best, you would be perceived as a qualified immigrant. Were you a white person, whether you’re educated or not, whether you have a high-paying job or not, there’s no doubt you would be perceived as an expat across the board. That’s how race, education level, and income are used as indicators to distinguish between people.

At the end of the day, the fact is that expats are immigrants. The real difference is that they’re leaving their country because they can. Because they want to work abroad, want to take advantage of Latin America’s lower cost of living to take the most advantage of their dollars, or simply because they want a change of scenery. Most Latin Americans and other people of color who leave their countries do so out of necessity because the alternative of staying is unsustainable for them. Whether that’s because of poverty, food insecurity, violence, political persecution, or even war, the fact is that they leave to truly seek a better life.

As of 2024, there are 20.4 million Latino immigrants living in the U.S. As for international immigrants, the count was nearly 46.2 million in 2022. While the word immigrant may carry some negative connotations due to implicit bias and systemic racism may be reserved for people of color, being an immigrant is nothing to be ashamed of. People from all over the world and from all walks of life partake in immigration. Especially now that many are embracing a more nomadic lifestyle with the rise of remote work. As such, it’s important to recognize subtly racist distinctions and call them out to prevent the prevalence of the “them versus us” narrative.

Few words are as prominent as “gratitude,” especially in the Latino community. We’re constantly reminded to be grateful for everything we have. While the practice is encouraged as a habit for improved mental health and it’s indeed important to be grateful, there are healthy limits to how grateful one should be. Enter toxic gratitude, which isn’t defined by a genuine sense of thankfulness, but by a sense of forced obligation.

There isn’t much research about toxic gratitude amongst Latinos, but culturally speaking, it’s not uncommon for both non-U.S. born and U.S. born Latinos to be discouraged from asking for what they actually deserve in the workplace, or be told not to make any waves and avoid any potential problems.

Where does the Latino gratitude problem come from and how does it negatively impact Latino social, economic, and personal progress?

The toxic gratitude problem

The difference between gratitude and toxic gratitude lies in intention. Where gratitude comes naturally, stemming from a genuine sense of thankfulness, toxic gratitude is something we force on ourselves to either suppress negative emotions or ignore real problems. For example, you’re a Latino in the corporate world and you’ve been climbing that ladder. Lately, you’ve been working yourself even further to the bone because you’re aiming for a coveted promotion.

When the time comes, the promotion goes to your white co-worker, who happens to be well-connected and hasn’t put in even half the work you have. That would make you feel all kinds of frustrated, angry, exhausted, and sad. In turn, these emotions would make you want to do something, like talking to your manager about it or even considering looking for a job in a company that will value your efforts.

Instead of feeling those emotions and potentially taking action, the voice in your head goes: “Everything happens for a reason, I should just be grateful for what I have. Thank God I even have a job.” While that’s a seemingly harmless thought, it’s a form of self-repression. Not only are you telling yourself that it’s not okay to feel how you feel, but you’re also talking yourself out of advocating for what you know you deserve.

That voice in your head has probably been nurtured by your Latino parents and grandparents, who have taught you that you have to work for what you want, but you also have to keep your head down. If you prove yourself through your work, the people in power will notice and eventually lift you up. Your work will speak for you and your time will come, so you shouldn’t complain. These are usually the values instilled in us, but are they helpful in every context? If we’re always taking things on the chin instead of standing up for ourselves when it counts, how can change ever be made?

Where does the Latino gratitude problem stem from?

We consider there are two main reasons for the Latino gratitude problem. One reason is catholicism, which is the main religion in Latin America and in Latino communities around the world. While the number of Latinos without religious affiliations is growing, Catholics are still the largest religious group among Latinos in the U.S., according to an AP poll.

One of the core tenets of catholicism is that suffering is redemptive and it leads to salvation. With catholicism being so ingrained in Latino culture, we’re taught to believe that suffering is not a bad thing, it’s something to be offered to God and good things may come of it. That’s one of the reasons we’re told to be grateful for everything, even the injustices we may experience.

Another reason is that most Latinos, especially Latino immigrants who have moved to the U.S. or other countries in search of a better life, generally know how much worse things can be. Yes, you didn’t get the promotion you deserved, but are you starving? “Other people have it much worse than me” or “At least my situation is not as bad as someone else’s” are common thoughts, but they diminish our own experiences. We’re essentially telling ourselves that our problems aren’t significant enough to matter when compared to worse struggles.

It’s also the case that, most of the time, every single one of our victories and accomplishments is hard-won. Latinos in the U.S. have to work harder for the same opportunities, and that’s particularly true for Latinas. It’s understandable that, given all that hard work, we don’t want to fall into victimhood by whining about the things we don’t get or achieve. This is also something we learn from our parents and grandparents. However, it’s not victimhood if Latinos are consistently underpaid and unrecognized for their contributions.

Latino toxic gratitude is a personal and community disservice

With our “keep your head down attitude,” which is fueled by toxic gratitude beliefs, we’re actually being complicit with the systems that are keeping Latinos on the sidelines. There’s always room for genuine gratitude in our lives and practicing gratitude is, indeed, an empowering habit. However, it’s essential to recognize toxic gratitude and the ways in which it disables us from advocating for ourselves when we have to, making necessary demands, and asking for more than scraps. By looking out for ourselves and challenging the status quo in the workplace and beyond, we can uplift the entire community and be a catalyst for change. Our Latino parents and grandparents have taught us many powerful values, but the Latino gratitude problem is one that requires correction. It doesn’t serve us as well as we’re taught to believe it does. The sooner we open our eyes to that fact, the sooner we’ll be able to make much-needed mindset changes that will drive us forward rather than keep us in place.