Wednesday, June 8, 2022 — 5
Michigan in Color
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Call me Tavo: Working-class salience,
nicknames and parents
Over the past several weeks,
I’ve
experienced
elevated,
irregular bursts of imposter
syndrome and survivor guilt.
As a first-generation college
student, I have been submerged
in a grueling and expedited
process of upward mobility and
assimilation. It feels like I have
been worlds apart from my
family, particularly my parents,
over the past several years.
As a result, one particular
topic I’ve reflected on lately is
family, specifically my parents.
It’s pretty apparent from my
previous
articles
that
being
first-gen means a lot to me. In
addition to my hyperawareness
of social class, my first-gen
identity
is
interwoven
and
inseparable from my working-
class upbringing. It is rooted
in my family tree and exists
precisely
because
previous
generations did not go to college.
For as long as I can remember,
I’ve always been reticent to
share details about my personal
life with others, especially in
most spaces at the University,
like Ross. I think every working-
class student’s worst nightmare
is for their background and
family to be ridiculed by their
peers. This fear is best captured
in one scene in the “Hillbilly
Elegy”
film.
The
initial
enumeration of accomplishments
and credentials that impresses
others. The awkward silence
that follows when one shares
details about their family and
the working-class setting they
grew
up
in.
The
tone-deaf
questions and classist remarks.
The dramatization in this brief
instance highlights how out of
place someone from a scrappy
upbringing can feel among some
upper-class peers and in various
elite spaces, both of which
might
purportedly
espouse
egalitarianism.
To avert similar scenarios,
I frequently code-switch and
compartmentalize the different
spaces I traverse as a defense
mechanism — as though I am a
chameleon that can blend into
and adapt to many environments.
One particular area where these
partitions are evident is how
people refer to me. Some past
nicknames
of
mine
include
Goose, Gucci, Gus Bus, Gussy
and Gustavito. But my primary
nickname is Gus, which is what
I usually went by prior to college
— and still do either for the sake
of my own or for someone else’s
convenience if I’ve repeated my
full name more than three times
in a personal introduction.
Over the past month, I’ve
shared another nickname with a
few people. My family, primarily
my parents, actually refer to
me as Tavo. Most people are
familiar with Gus as a nickname
for Gustavo, but Tavo is another
nickname that exists in some
Spanish-speaking communities.
My parents have always called
me Tavo, yet even native Spanish
speakers might not be familiar
with this uncommon nickname.
The only time I’ve ever been
called Tavo by a non-family
member was from a stylist
over a year ago at a salon in my
hometown. Most of the stylists
and clientele are native Spanish
speakers, and upon hearing my
name, she instantly knew my
family referred to me as Tavo.
And so, hearing my nickname is
endearing and creates a sense of
closeness if someone outside of
my family calls me Tavo.
Up until recently, I had never
told anyone outside of my family
about
this
nickname.
This
nickname usually slips my mind
as I tend to forget about Tavo
outside of home. But lately I have
been reflecting on the drastic
transformation I’ve undergone
through college. Even though
I feel like I have lost traces of
my working-class Latino roots
over the past several years, my
nickname serves as a reminder
that my upbringing and identities
will always be an indisputable
part of me. Additionally, it felt
special to be known as Tavo by
my family only, though this is
a minor reason. As I’ve begun
sharing this nickname, I have
become aware that others love
this nickname.
I am Gustavo to most, Gus to
others and Tavo to a few. Feel
free to call me Tavo!
I typically possess a reserved
demeanor,
since
I
struggle
to
convey
my
feelings.
But
sometimes the internal strife
from constant code-switching
can be overbearing at times,
resulting in frequent glitches in
my thought processes, making
my
partitions
flimsy
and
rendering me vulnerable. When
I feel most out of place, I shut
down and become timid like a
whimpering lost puppy.
Reminders of occasions like
Parents
&
Family
Weekend
slightly sting me every time I see
an email or retrieve a physical
letter from the mail. Although
I am generally able to tune out
these occasions, there is always
a slight amount of residual
envy that singes me whenever I
see hordes of Wolverines with
their parents — who are visiting
for football games or other
occasions — in clusters across
campus. Long-distance travel
and
lodging
for
graduation,
Parents
&
Family
Weekend,
Campus Day and a bevy of other
occasions aren’t for working-
class parents like mine.
I have always been passionate about
helping those less fortunate than myself.
From as early as I can remember, I
committed myself to one day go to
medical school. In fact, growing up,
I told myself that I would one day
become a trauma surgeon because
I believed that saving someone’s life
was the greatest way one could help
someone. However, during my first year
of college, I realized that rather than
going down the pre-med track in order
to help others at the individual level, I
was more passionate about making a
direct systemic change and addressing
the inequities that are so rampant in
society today.
By the time I started my sophomore
year, I knew that the pre-med trajectory
I had planned was out of the picture. I
knew that I wanted to apply to both
the School of Public Health and the
Ford School of Public Policy, so I made
sure to register for their prerequisite
classes. Since I was unsure whether
or not I would be accepted by either
school, I decided to use my sophomore
year to fulfill the general graduation
requirements. I still needed credits in
the humanities category, so I decided to
take LATINOAM 311: Latinx Cultures
and Communities. After all, I never
formally learned my Mexican culture’s
history in school. Due to my limited
opportunity to learn about the rich
Latinx history, much of what I was
exposed to growing up covered Spanish
colonialism.
Besides the random stories my father
would tell my siblings and me during
our Christmas dinners or our 22-hour
drives to Durango, Mexico, I had no
formal education of my Mexican roots.
Though I learned something new
through every single conversation I had
with my father regarding topics such as
Mexico’s independence from Spain, I
never fully understood the more recent
history of Mexicans in the United States.
That was until I took LATINOAM 311.
Compared
to
the
static
memorization of the intricacies of
human anatomy in pre-med trajectory
courses, LATINOAM 311 gave me the
opportunity to explore the rich history
of my Mexican culture. Once I realized
I was more interested in academia
regarding the social determinants of
health rather than the required pre-
med courses such as organic chemistry
and animal physiology, I knew that I
should be taking courses that explored
the communities these determinants
are affecting firsthand. I never expected
that taking this course would expose
me to the different ways in which social
and community context play a major
role in the health outcomes of Latinx
households, while also allowing me
to learn about the history of Mexican
families, including mine.
In LATINOAM 311, I had the
opportunity to learn about the formation
of
different
Latinx
communities
and their larger significance and
contributions to Latinx and United
States history, society and culture.
In all honesty, when I was a pre-med
student there were times when I would
completely disregard the readings
required for my classes; it was difficult
for me to find some sort of motivation to
push me through chapters of chemical
compounds or the molarity formula.
However, LATINOAM 311 was one
of the first times I went out of my way
to further research some of the topics
we were covering in class, such as the
Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo and the
Young Lords. While the material we
covered in the course did touch on the
history of Mexico, the course served
as a bridge for me to make sense of the
disconnect I had between my family’s
history and the communities that were
portrayed through pop culture.
Read more at michigandaily.com
YASH APRAMEYA/MiC
IRVING PEA
MiC Columnist
MADISON GROSVENOR/TMD
GUSTAVO SACRAMENTO
MiC Columnist
Read more at michigandaily.com
My case for taking
Ethnic Studies classes