Paz-Cedillos: What’s in a name?

Every year, National Hispanic Heritage Month begins on Sept. 15, celebrating the contributions of Latinos to the U.S., including the $3.7 trillion we add to the national GDP – with $706 billion coming from California alone. Yet, the debate over identity labels often leaves many of us conflicted. So I ask: What’s in a name?

For me, names — and by extension words — are powerful tools. They can uphold and protect the dominant culture, or they can uplift untold stories and mobilize communities toward justice.

For example, “Hispanic” is an American invention, referring to U.S. residents with lineages from Spain or Latin America. It centers whiteness, often excluding Afro-Latinos and Indigenous people by emphasizing the colonial relationship between Spain and Latin America. Intentional or not, the term Hispanic centers the dominant culture.

In college and early in my career, identifying as “Hispanic” often felt like a betrayal of my roots. The label, which didn’t reflect my Afro-Latino or Indigenous brothers and sisters, conflicted with my sense of self and my own mestizaje. This internal conflict made me question the label, especially when those who identified as “Hispanic” didn’t seem to have my best interests in mind. Zora Neale Hurston’s words rang true then as they do now: “All my skinfolk ain’t my kinfolk.”

This quote has stayed with me, reminding me that shared skin color doesn’t always translate to shared interests or solidarity. With time, however, I came to understand the power of political identity and unity. Terms like “Latina” became political tools, as seen in organizations like the Latina Coalition of Silicon Valley, which mobilizes a specific population to champion causes like equal pay — an issue that directly impacts me and the communities I care about.

Yet, while the same is true for the term Hispanic, which has been used to unify a community and advance our political power, it is also true that the term has caused many of us great harm. From alienating our Black and Indigenous sisters and brothers to perpetuating internalized racism, which has led many of us to downplay or outright deny our African and Indigenous roots.

To add to the complexity, those of us who can “pass” — light-skinned Latinos or white Latinos — have seen how identifiers can be used for personal gain, myself included. We enter rooms where doors were once previously closed and sit at decision-making tables, but sometimes fail to leverage our privilege to move a progressive agenda forward. Worse, we occasionally perpetuate the harm inflicted on our communities.

I can already hear it: what communities am I referring to? Latinos are not a monolith. We have many diverse identifiers, including country of origin, race and class.

Identifiers are messy but powerful — a double-edged sword. The real question is: Who wields that sword, and to what end?

I’m Jessica Paz-Cedillos — Salvadoreña, Mexicana and American. I am Latina, a woman of color, who believes the nation we strive for is yet to be created, and our values are reflected in how we care for the most vulnerable among us.

If you join me on this journey through my column, we’ll confront the complexities of identity and race, shine a light on the stories of East San Jose and critically examine our political system’s impact on our lives. You may not always agree with me, but I hope to spark meaningful conversation — and inspire action.

Jessica Paz-Cedillos is the co-executive director at the Mexican Heritage Plaza. Her columns appear every first Monday of the month. Contact Jessica at [email protected] or follow her on LinkedIn.