Written by: Grace Garcia
Growing up as a Cuban American, my Hispanic heritage has always been an integral part of my identity. It’s more than a box I check off on a census form; it’s a lived experience, a cultural inheritance that has shaped my worldview, values and sense of self. For me, being Cuban American means balancing two worlds: honoring the rich cultural traditions of my Cuban roots while navigating the opportunities and challenges of a lifestyle in the United States.
One of the most profound aspects of my heritage is the strong sense of family and community. In Cuban culture, family isn’t just the people you’re related to by blood; it’s a tight-knit network of friends, neighbors and even distant relatives. Everyone is your family.
Growing up, I spent countless hours at family gatherings in my abuela’s kitchen, where funny stories and memories of the past were shared over cups of café con leche; the noise of children and laughter filled the whole house. Even though I was born in the United States, my parents made sure I understood the struggles and resilience of my ancestors who fled Cuba seeking freedom and opportunity. Their stories instilled in me a deep respect for perseverance and sacrifice.
Food is another deeply meaningful part of my heritage. Every dish — whether it’s a delicious plate of congrí y plátanos or a large helping of fragrant yucca — carries the flavors of my ancestors and the history of the island. Sharing a meal with family or friends is a way to connect, pass down traditions and keep our culture alive. Food transcends borders, and as Cuban Americans, it’s a constant reminder of where we came from and the strength of our community.
At the same time, being Cuban American means navigating the complexities of having a dual identity. I have always felt a push and pull between embracing my Cuban heritage and completely integrating into American culture. In school, I had to learn how to balance the values my family taught me with the expectations of American society. For instance, the communal nature of Cuban culture sometimes clashes with the individualism that’s more prized in the United States. At the same time, I’ve also struggled with navigating between two languages: English and Spanish. When I was growing up, assimilating into American culture meant almost forgetting Spanish. It’s a balancing act — one where I’ve learned to take pride in my cultural heritage without feeling like I have to sacrifice parts of myself to fit into the mainstream.
Ultimately, my Hispanic heritage as a Cuban American is a source of pride, resilience and belonging. It’s about carrying the stories, traditions and struggles of my ancestors with me while forging my own path in a new world. It’s knowing that, while I may not have grown up in Cuba, the island’s history and culture are still very much a part of who I am. I am a product of the best of two worlds, deeply Cuban and proudly American, and that duality is something I embrace every day.
