an exhibition featuring high school students in North Georgia
Exhibition Essay
Sophia Meneses San Roman, Elizabeth Padilla Brun, Emily Kane, and Ana Pozzi Harris

Though they have been a steady presence in the art world for a long time, Latinx artists have only recently gained traction and respect. “Latinx” art, like the terms “Hispanic” or “Latino,” encompasses art produced by United States immigrants from Cuba, Mexico, Central America, South America, and U.S. citizens from Puerto Rico. The “x” attached at the end, an early 21st century addition, aims to include people outside the gender binary, refraining from the feminine “Latina” and masculine “Latino.” [1] While a single term is useful to build a sense of a community in a foreign country, Latin America consists of hundreds of unique and vibrant cultures, differing from country to country and, in some cases, from neighborhood to neighborhood.[2] There are many ways to artistically represent Latin American and Latinx societies. 
This exhibition is centered around two aspects of Latinx art: tradition and transculturalism. A tradition is a custom or spiritual belief passed down from generation to generation. Transmitted across time through religion, food, family bonds, celebrations, and clothing, traditions offer a steady voice in a globalized modernity.[3] Transculturalism, on the other hand, is the combination of two or more cultures. This phenomenon is occurring daily in today’s Latinx communities. Latinx are living through hardships while learning new languages, adjusting to new homes, and experiencing cultural differences.[4] 
The exhibition Tradition and Transculturalism in Latinx Art was curated and organized by UNG Visual Art students enrolled in ART 3570 Mexican and U.S. Latino Art, under the direction of Dr. Ana Pozzi Harris, Senior Lecturer in Art History at UNG. University students divided the work. Some UNG students visited high schools and taught an art history lesson with examples of Latinx art to high school students. Others focused on the graphic design of the logo and website, while others collected and organized the submissions from the high schoolers into themes, wrote and edited the texts for the exhibition and website, installed the exhibition, and organized the reception. The entire project was funded by a LEAP into Action grant awarded to Dr. Pozzi Harris in the Spring of 2022. The LEAP grant provides UNG faculty with support to teach using the principles of real-life experiential learning and community engagement to expand students’ horizons.
Aiming to celebrate the multifaceted, multicultural Latinx community of the North Georgia region, the exhibition highlights over fifty artworks from high school students in the North Georgia region. The participating high schools are East Hall High School, Flowery Branch High School, Forsyth Central High School, Gainesville High School, and Lumpkin County High School. The project organizers are grateful for the high school teachers' involvement and support, and for the high school student's willingness to share their work with the community.
This exhibition connects the greater Hispanic and Latino communities of the North Georgia region and allows students to express their views of their culture, origins, and present situation. Students who are not of Latinx ancestry forged a connection through vibrant colors and imagery, searching for inspiration in professional Latinx artists. The artists expressed themes of nostalgia, mourning, loss of identity, different familial dynamics, a changing cultural self, sacred celebrations, old traditions, and spiritual and religious complexities. 
The term “family” is elastic in its nature and application. A family can be a nuclear unit of two parents and one or more children, a group of descendants who share a common ancestor, or a few friends who lack genetic connection. Blood relations are unnecessary because people can be a family through choice, adoption, or other means. In general, a family is a group of people that may or may not share ancestral bonds yet find love, safety, and empowerment in each other.[5]
Families are an important aspect of Latino culture, providing the steady influence of one’s culture, love, and support against life’s trials. Many social relationships are tied to familial customs. For example, the strict responsibility of older children taking care of younger children or sons and daughters taking care of their elderly parents. Though some customs and values waver in today’s modernized world, many traditions survive migration and assimilation to new countries and cultures.[6] In their work, high school artists keep their ancestral traditions alive by representing the practices, crafts, and teachings of their forebears.  
Culture is the implicit and explicit set of rules, values, morals, customs, and beliefs shared among a group. Culture is taught and thus intricately tied to families because children learn the rules, values, morals, customs, and beliefs of society through one's parents. On a side note, culture is also embedded with transculturalism because immigrants blend the customs of their new home into their traditions as they interact with their unique environment.[7]
Artists Ivon Hernandez, Monica Rojas, and Camila Vigil explored some older cultural aspects of Mexico in their artwork. In their painting, Lujan (Fig. 1), Hernandez depicts the small ranch they lived on for ten years in rural Durango, Mexico before moving to America. Though an older lifestyle, Hernandez suggests that ranches, where people live by the traditions of their grandfathers, remain strong in modern times. This sentiment is no doubt heightened by change in lifestyle after moving to Georgia. In Rojas and Virgil’s painting, The Aztec King (Fig. 2), they depict the Aztec people as a way of exploring their grandparents’ cultural roots. The Aztecs were one of the ancient, indigenous empires of Mexico. Highly intelligent and quite sophisticated, many aspects of Aztec culture mixed with Spanish culture after the latter conquered Mexico in 1521. Though Rojas and Virgil are exploring a far older ancestral connection than Hernandez, all of their artwork reflects how deeply one’s origins affect the present. ​​​​​​​​​​​
Figure 1: Ivon Hernandez, Luján, 2023, acrylic on canvas, 20 x 24 in.
Figure 2: Monica Rojas and Camila Vigil, The Aztec King, 2023, acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20 in.
Much like parents teach culture, families also shape one’s perception of love and care. In more poetic terms, family shapes one’s heart. Whether that heart is love and fulfillment or tragedy and pain depends on the individual group, some are fortunate while others lack stable care and support.[8]
Sophia Welch and Indie Moore portrayed these contrasting family dynamics in their art. Welch, depicting an imagined scene of her family in Tokyo, Japan, represents the loving dynamic. Her piece, Tokyo in my Dreams (Fig. 3), connects to Latino culture through vibrant colors and contemporary artist José Parlá’s splatter paint style. José Parlá is based in Brooklyn, New York and is recognized for permanent installations of his large-scale paintings.[9] Welch, on the other hand, is painting a smaller rendering of a tradition her family will fulfill before her graduation: travel to a location of her choice. For some families, “heart” is found in traveling, especially when it is done around people who bring happiness to each other. Indie Moore, on the other hand, illustrates how fragmented families can be. Their mixed media piece, Broken (Fig. 4), expresses how important family is in Latino culture and how terrible it is when families are shattered. Moore explores Latinx art through ceramics, a traditional medium which, ironically, is represented here through an industrially-produced example and "broken." Perhaps the broken Mikasa plate is the material representation of the artists' emotions. Moore also draws inspiration from Gleo, an urban artist working in Cali, Colombia, known for colorful murals.[10]
Figure 3: Sophia Welch, Tokyo in my Dreams, 2023, acrylic on canvas, 24 in x 24 in.
Figure 4: Indie Moore, Broken, 2023, ceramic, acrylic, plastic, 11 x 11 x 1 in.
Aside from culture and heart, families also provide both physical and emotional support throughout life. Of course, not all Hispanic and Latino families are supportive, much like not all families are love-giving. However, it is worth noting that most Latino families see themselves as a unit, the opposite of American ideas of individualism and independence. In fact, Latino families emphasize interdependence, providing advice, guidance, laughter, and both physical and monetary strength. America, on the other hand, diminishes the necessity of outside aid, for it is seen as “lesser” than accomplishing tasks alone. Realistically, it is near impossible to execute anything without support, care, and guidance, but diverse cultures simply uphold different values.[11]
Students Mohita Ilamurugan and Madeline Kearney explore the physical and emotional empowerment families provide in their works Bearing Fruits of Culture (Fig. 5) and Matriarch (Fig. 6), respectively. Depicting the national fruits of Latin America, Illamurugan’s ceramic sculpture demonstrates how fruit is a staple of Latino culture. Food revives ancestral practices, connects people to their culture, and satisfies a physical need of the body.[12] In their artwork, Kearney demonstrates how some Latino homes have females as heads of households. This custom of female leadership connects women both to their ancestors and to greater communities with women in similar situations. The empowerment of women illustrates a way families may provide emotional support for each other.[13]​​​​​​​
Figure 5: Mohita Ilamirugan, Bearing the Fruits of Culture, 2023, ceramic, 8 x 4 x 4 in.
Figure 6: Madeline Kearney, Matriarch, 2023, acrylic on canvas, 8 x 20 in.
Religion is defined as the belief in and worship of a divine power, usually a single God or a pantheon of several gods. Thousands of religions are practiced worldwide, including Catholicism, Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, and Hinduism. Spirituality, on the other hand, is still concerned with the soul and beliefs, but it does not follow a dogma or “rules” like religion does. Additionally, religion has rites shared by a community where spirituality is more individual-focused and worships without performing rituals.[14]
Due to all its practices and rites, religion is intricately embedded with traditions. However, religion and spirituality are woven with transculturalism as well, both historically and presently.[15]
Prior to European conquest, Mesoamerican cultures were polytheistic and worshiped multiple gods. These were the religions of empires like the Aztecs in Mexico and the Inca in Peru, but Portugal and Spain conquered most of Central and South America, converting the indigenous populations to Catholicism. Their legacy remains today: in 2014, sixty-nine percent of Latin America is Roman Catholic.[16] However, colonization did not completely erase indigenous beliefs, it mixed local spiritual practices with foreign ones. For example, the Spanish monastery in Huejotzingo, Mexico was constructed with a courtyard - traditional Spanish monasteries did not have one - because Aztec celebrations traditionally took place outdoors. As one culture adapted to the other, each modified the locations of its religious practices: the Spanish moved outdoors and the Aztecs moved into churches.[17] In the modern United States, religions similarly modify aspects of their practices and ideas as they interact with other religions.[18]
Some high school artists explored different manifestations of religion in their artworks. Adriana Mezquital, for instance, chose to represent a saint of the Catholic Church. In their painting, Last Breath (Fig. 7), Mezquital chose to represent St. Mary Magdalene, a symbol of devotion and repentance to believers. This shows the forgiving, welcoming side of Catholicism, as well as its worship of saints in Catholicism.[19]​​​​​​​
Other artists depict more spiritual iconography, celebrations, and practices that are not necessarily religious but are nonetheless deeply sacred to Latino communities. For example, Mexicans celebrate death. With celebrations like Day of the Dead (Día de los Muertos), Mexicans balance the heavy loss of family and friends with love, bold colors, feasts, carnivals, and contemplation. They believe that, on November 1st and 2nd, the barrier between the Spirit World and Living World grows thin, so ancestors are able to “come back” and visit living relatives. Families decorate altars (ofrendas) with the photographs, favorite meals, and pastimes of those who are gone.[20]
The marigold flower (cempazuchitl), naturally in season, is often found on altars among skeleton figurines, sugar skulls, and Bread of the Dead (Pan de Muertos). Some Latino cultures celebrate being alive to honor those that have passed; so, life and death exist not as opposites, but as partners.[21]
Students Joanna Cornelio-Juarez and Laurel Ross explored some ideas of Day of the Dead in their art, particularly the connection between life and death and the reverence of ancestors. In their dual pieces, La Vida and El Fin (Fig. 8),
Figure 7: Adriana Mezquital, Last Breath, 2022, acrylic on canvas, 11 x 14.2 in
Cornelio-Juarez shows the partnership of life and death in the tiles themselves: “Life” and “The End”. The marigold flower further establishes this estranged partnership, reminding viewers that life happens too fast, and it is death that reminds us to enjoy it while it lasts.[22]​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
Figure 8: Johanna Cornelio-Juarez, (left) La Vida and (right) El Fin, digital illustration, 2023, 9 x 12 in.
Ross’ sculpture Common Threads (Fig 9) reveres her ancestors, specifically her grandfather. Beautifully crafted, the string, representing wood, and the beads, representing stained-glass, connect to her grandfather, who was a stain-glass artist and woodworker. She is honoring her ancestors by reproducing something materialistic they loved much like altars do on the Day of the Dead. 
Finally, a group of four students, Santiago Vargas, Jadyn Christian, Layla Bryan, Gabriela Olguin, realized their personal alebrijes (Fig. 10). An alebrije, originally from Mexico, is a fantastical creature made up of two or more animals. Although not originally connected to Day of the Dead, popular reiterations of the celebration, like Pixar’s animated film Coco, have transformed them into “spirit guides”, beings able to travel between this world and the next. Alebrijes were the creations of Pedro Linares, a Mexican folk artist. In 1936, Linares fell deathly ill and dreamt of giant, hybrid creatures whispering “Alebrije, alebrije” over and over again. When his fever broke, he crafted the creatures in paper maché. Today, Linares’ descendants continue his craft and his creation has been adapted and created by thousands of other hands.[23]
Spirituality and religion can have thousands of interpretations and practices and the high school artists explored them in beautiful ways, especially those of Mexican origin.
Figure 9: Laurel Ross, Common Threads, 2023, string, glass beads, and twine on ceramic, 6 x 7 x 6 in
Figure 10: (far left) Santiago Vargas, El Primer Alebrije; (center left) Jadyn Christian, El Segundo Alegrije; (center right) Layla Brian, El Tercer Alebrije; (far right) Gabriela Olguin, El Cuarto Alebrije. All works: acrylic on canvas, colored pencil, 2023, 16 x 20 in. 
Identity is defined by the Merriam-Webster Dictionary as “the distinguishing character or personality of an individual.”[24] Our experiences in our place of origin play a big part in our identity from a young age, allowing us to relate and connect to others around us: we form connections with others through shared aspects of our identity. Our identity is built through our memories, experiences, ingrained values, culture, surroundings, and relationships.[25]
Our identity, however, is not static: it is ever-changing and ever-growing as we reach new places, meet new people and change our preferences. The environment and its qualities influence the process of identity change, allowing us to adapt. As we go about life and come across different people, places or experiences, we pick up a little bit of everything and add it onto ourselves, carrying it with us as we continue on. When we leave our home country or state and settle elsewhere, we blend our cultures, customs and traditions with those of our new home. Features of our new culture eventually rub off on us, adding new customs and attributes to our day to day. These become a part of our identity, blending with the culture we already carry with us. This is called transculturalism, as it encompasses the meshing of different cultures.[26]
In this exhibition, the term “identity” is used in relation to heritage and cultural roots, as we touch on the topics of tradition and transculturalism. Traditions can change and be adapted when we are introduced to a different culture, leading to transculturalism. Our identity can shift and grow as we find ourselves immersed in a different place. The longer we spend somewhere or with someone, the more we begin to understand or adapt to these new ways of living, whether to fit in or without even really thinking about it. To a certain extent, it is inevitable to adopt new habits to better acquaint yourself with a new place. However, adding on bits and pieces of a new culture does not have to replace the building blocks of our own heritage. The blending of cultures allows for a higher level of connection and understanding to bloom, allowing us to grow and expand our perspectives.[27]
In the exhibited works, we see a consistent connection to Latin American heritage through artistic choices in color and texture, as well as iconography and cultural themes. The concept of identity shines through in varying moods ranging from nostalgia and melancholy to pride and joy. Even as they vary, they collectively tell the story of what it’s like to leave one’s country and come into a new one, constructing a bittersweet narrative of being a foreigner in another people’s home. Moreover, these works point out and celebrate our differences as Latinx, from the color of our skin to our customs and the marvel of experiencing new things away from home while still placing importance in remaining connected to one’s roots. Isa Arevalo, for instance, habitually draws up the pictures she takes, but for her exhibited work Puruándiro (Fig. 11) she added sewn yarn to emphasize her culture as a Mexican-American artist. Puruándiro is a city in the north of the Mexican state of Michoacán. Marleen Barron's Transformación (Fig. 12) on the other hand, uses ceramics to express the coming-of-age transformation that takes place in the traditional Mexican Quinceañera.[28]
Figure 11: Isa Arevalo, Puruándiro, 2023, ink and yarn, 12 x 10 in.
Figure 12: Marleen Barron, Transformación, 2022, ceramic and underglaze, 9 x 5 x 2 in.
Guadalupe Escalera followed suit with ceramics as a medium for American Axolotl (Fig. 13), as she figuratively represents her experience being in between Latinx and American, as both have become a part of her identity, after moving to the US from Durango, Mexico.[29] Kathy del Cid tackles acrylic on clay to show her pride in Hondurian culture in her work titled Embroidery Vase (Fig. 14)​​​​​​​
Figure 13: Guadalupe Escalera, American Axolotl, 2023, ceramic, 4 x 3 in.
Figure 14: Kathy del Cid, Embroidery Vase, 2023, acrylic on clay, 4.5 x 7 in.
On a more nostalgic and bittersweet note, Flores de Luto (Fig. 15) by Marjorie M. Funes C. and Being Latinx in Georgia (Fig. 16) by Mattalyn Mabry provide moving depictions on the emotional struggles of leaving one’s home country and adapting to the experience of living in the U.S.. While they both share the same medium, they go about expressing emotion in contrasting styles. Funes chooses surrealism while Mabry mixes written text with portraiture. Both pieces exude emotion as they each narrate the confusion and, in Flores de Luto, guilt of having to leave what is known. While Funes speaks from a personal experience and Mabry interviewed Latinx friends, both works deal with the struggle of identity in the process of transculturalism and change in traditions. These artists let their cultural identity and experiences shine through their work, as they approached this exhibition with real topics and raw emotions that highlight the vulnerability experienced through transculturalism. ​​​​​​​
Figure 15: Marjorie M. Funes C., Flores de Luto, 2023, acrylic, 18 x 22 in.
Figure 16: Mattalyn Mabry, Being Latinx in Georgia, 2023, acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20 in.
To celebrate is defined by the Merriam-Webster as “to honor (an occasion, such as a holiday) especially by solemn ceremonies or by refraining from ordinary business.”[30] In a more casual context, a celebration is a special event or festivity through which people gather to uplift an occasion or certain values. People come together to celebrate anniversaries and birthdays, while countries and their people come together to commemorate important moments in their history or to honor beliefs.
Our heritage can be shared through our celebrations. What we celebrate and why we do so always ties back into our cultural roots, connecting us to each other no matter how far we are from home. It can be hard to keep traditions alive when we are no longer surrounded by people who share the same values. Keeping traditions outside of home takes effort and love. Many people of Mexican origins still put up their Altar de Muertos while living in the US, many girls still celebrate their Quinceañera even if they live elsewhere. This is possible through community and the connections made with those from a shared culture.[31]
As we form new relationships in our new home, celebrations allow us to learn about people from different backgrounds, and we may perhaps adopt some of their celebrations ourselves. A great example of this is Latinx-American families celebrating Halloween and Día de los Muertos while adopting Thanksgiving as a holiday and sitting around a table full of the traditional meal. Adopting new celebrations will never take away from the ones we came into this country with, even if at times it feels like a betrayal or like forgetting our roots. Part of growing and expanding our roots into where we currently are includes learning and adapting, making it a two-lane road for us to also teach others. Pride in our heritage can always be carried on our sleeve, even when we engage in new things. [32]​​​​​​​
In the exhibited works, we see five different pieces that embody the theme of celebrations. Carly Katulka presents a mixed media composition tilted The Many Crowns (Fig. 17) of two of the iconic flower crowns worn by Mexican artist Frida Kahlo. These headpieces stand to celebrate the impact she had in Mexican and all-around Latinx culture.[33] Katie Martin’s El Camino Real (Fig. 18) takes a different approach to mixed media by depicting a historic trail that connects Mexico and the U.S. as it runs through both countries. Through this scenery, she shows a physical connection between the two and celebrates its unison.[34]
Figure 17: Carly Katulka, The Many Crowns, 2023, mixed media, 10x 12 in.
Figure 18: Katie Martin, El Camino Real, 2023, mixed media, 14 x 11 in.
Other works such as Las Mañanitas (Fig. 19) by Carla N. Morales Alcibar show the beauty of passed down Mexican family traditions that take place in birthdays such as the chorus of the song “Las Mañanitas”. She connects these traditions to other Latinx cultures by referencing the birthday ritual of taking a bite out of the cake while trying not to get your face fully pushed in![35] Dulce Perez follows along the theme of birthdays in her painting titled Quince Tradición (Fig. 20), in which she represents the coming-of-age ceremony and party that takes place at fifteen years old.[36] Elizabeth Ramirez depicts a traditional tres leches birthday cake, a sponge cake soaked in milk, in her titled work Feliz Cumpleaños (Fig. 21), shedding light on her Mexican-American heritage.[37]​​​​​​​
Figure 19: Carla N. Morales Alcíbar, Las Mañanitas, 2023, acrylic on canvas, 12 x 16 in.
Figure 20: Dulce Perez, Quince Tradición, 2023, acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20 in
Figure 21: Elizabeth Ramírez, Feliz Cumpleaños, 2023, cardboard, plaster, clay, acrylic paint, piping tips, 9.5 x 7.5 x 7.5 in.
Music is a big part of celebrations, adding liveliness of all events. Angel Miranda captures this in Vicente (Fig. 22) as he represents Mexican idol singer Vicente Fernández, whose music and death took the country by storm.[38] Kaley Quintanilla also focuses in important elements in celebrations in her painting titled Traditional Dress (Fig. 23). She portrays an adaptation of the traditional dress of Veracruz, the Traje Jarocho to celebrate heritage, culture, and history as important elements of her country’s identity.[39]​​​​​​​
Figure 22: Angel Miranda, Vicente, 2023, acrylic, 16 x 20 in.
Figure 23: Kaley Quintanilla, Traditional Dress, 2023, acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20 in.
Reagan Osborne, Avery Shadburn and Sophia Westerfield all share their families’ holiday traditions. Osborne uses bright colors to connect to Latinx culture in Holy Ham (Fig. 24) as she represents different holidays such as Easter, Christmas, and Thanksgiving. Avery Shadburn’s Christmas Morning Breakfast (Fig. 25) shows influence of Victoria Villasana through the intricate yarn work as she sheds light on her family’s Christmas breakfast traditions.[40] Traditions (Fig. 26) by Sophia Westerfield ties all the themes together as she expresses her Hispanic heritage through music and the tradition of eating twelve grapes on New Year’s.[41] These artists truly embody the connections that can be made transculturally and through tapping into one’s heritage. Celebrations are only one of the many ways through which we can share pride for who we are and where we come from.   ​​​​​​​
Figure 24: Reagan Osborne, Holy Ham, 2023, acrylic, crayon, oil pastel, and watercolor on canvas, 11 x 14 in.
Figure 25: Avery Shadburn, Christmas Morning Breakfast, acrylic on canvas, yarn, 18 x 13 in.
Figure 26: Sophia Westerfield, Traditions, 2023, mixed media, 16 x 20 in.
As a manner of conclusion: A Renewed Eagle and Serpent 
The printed poster for this exhibition (Fig. 27) features the eagle and the serpent, a symbol associated with the foundation of Mexico's Aztec capital, Tenochtitlan, and of the Mexican nation.[42] We have adapted this symbol to represent the concepts of the exhibition—"tradition" and "transculturalism” in Latinx Art.
We propose that the eagle and the serpent are symbols not only of Mexico but of Latinx people as a whole, since these symbols spring from an origin myth where people migrate to pursue their destiny in a new place.[43] In the poster, the Mexican symbols of the eagle and serpent have been adapted to express a concept of Latinx culture: a culture that springs from Latin America and which adapts itself to new situations in a new place, transforming itself.
In the illustration, the eagle's wings are spread, as if powerfully taking flight away from the origin (the Aztec Sun Stone, a stone that represents the concept of Aztec time).[44] Between the eagle's wings, the words "Latinx Art" appear most prominently. The green and pink colors at the sides of the eagle are variations of the original green and red of the Mexican flag. Here, they bear new tints, to subtly show a transformation. The serpent carries a brush, indicating the prominent role of art in the new culture.
The illustration is intentionally painterly and layered to show the complexity and diversity of Latinx art and culture, where identity is in a state of flux, transformation, and reinvention, while still deeply rooted in the traditions of the place of origin. The works of the student artists who participated in this exhibition reflect these values and ambitions, as they assert their presence in North Georgia.
Figure 27: Alberto Lopez, Poster for Tradition and Transculturalism in Latinx Art, scanned illustration made in acrylic on paper and graphic design, 2023, 8.5 x 11 in

[1] Catalina (Kathleen) M. de Onís, “What’s in an ‘x’?: An Exchange about the Politics of ‘Latinx,’” Chiricú Journal: Latina/o Literatures, Arts, and Cultures 1, no. 2 (2017): 78–91.

[2] Mario Vargas Llosa and Gerald B. Whelan, “Latin America from the Inside Out,” Salmagundi, no. 153/154 (2007): 32–41.

[3] Waldemar Kuligowski, “On new meanings of tradition, globalization, politics and questions for anthropology," Český Lid 101, no. 3 (2014): 321–34.

[4] Jean-François Côté, “From Transculturation to Hybridization: Redefining Culture in the Americas,” in Amériques Transculturelles - Transcultural Americas, edited by Afef Benessaieh, 121–48 (Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press, 2010).

[5] Nancy Foner, “The Immigrant Family: Cultural Legacies and Cultural Changes,” The International Migration Review 31, no. 4 (1997): 961–74.; Anna Muraco, “Intentional Families: Fictive Kin Ties between Cross-Gender, Different Sexual Orientation Friends.” Journal of Marriage and Family 68, no. 5 (2006): 1313–25.

[6] Foner, "The Immigrant Family," 961-74.

[7] Côté, "From Transculturalism to Hybridization," 121-48.

[8] Foner, "The Immigrant Family," 961-74.

[9] Max Lakin, "Covid. A Comma.  A Stroke. José Parlá returns from the edege." The New York Times, July 31, 2022,

[10] Emma Regolini, "The culturally enchanting work of Gleo," Global Street Art, April 3, 2020.

[11] Belinda Campos, J.B. Ullman, A. Aguilera, & C. Dunkel Schetter. "Familism and psychological health: The intervening role of closeness and social support," Cultural Diversity and Ethnic Minority Psychology, 20(2) (2014): 191–201.

[12] J. Kenji Lopez-Atl, "Gallery: a guide to tropical fruit in South America," Serious Eats, April 10, 2018,

[13] Andrés Villareal and Shin Heeju. “Unraveling the Economic Paradox of Female-Headed Households in Mexico: The Role of Family Networks.” The Sociological Quarterly 49, no. 3 (2008): 565–95.

[14] Doug Oman, "Defining Religion and Spirituality," in Handbook of Religion and Spirituality, edited by Raymond F. Paloutzian and Crystal L. Park (New York: The Guilford Press, 2013), 23-47.

[15] Antonio J. Montalvan, Anthropology of Transculturalism: Understanding Context and Diversity in Health Care. (Capitol University Press, 2008).

[16] "Religion in Latin America: widespread change in a historically Catholic region," Pew Research Center, November 13, 2014.

[17] Francisco Morales, “The Native Encounter with Christianity: Franciscans and Nahuas in Sixteenth-Century Mexico,” The Americas 65, no. 2 (2008): 137–59.

[18] Joseph P. Chinnici, “Changing Religious Practice and the End of Christendom in the United States 1965-1986,” U.S. Catholic Historian 23, no. 4 (2005): 61–82.

[19] Holy See Press Office, "Mary Magdalen, apostle of the apostles, 10.6.2016," Summary of Bulletin, June 10, 2016,

[20] Stanley Brandes. “Iconography in Mexico’s Day of the Dead: Origins and Meaning.” Ethnohistory 45, no. 2 (1998): 181–218.

[21] Brandes, "Iconography in Mexico'w Day of the Dead," 181-218.

[22] Brandes, "Iconography in Mexico'w Day of the Dead," 181-218.

[23] Susan N. Masuoka, En Calavera: The Papier-Mâché Art of the Linares Family (Los Angeles: UCLA Fowler Museum of Cultural History, 1994).

[24] “Identity,” Dictionary, Merriam-Webster,

[25] Matthew Lynch, "Identity: everything you need to know," The Edvocate, October 4, 2022,

[26] Lynch, “Identity: everything you need to know.”

[27] Yolanda Onghena, "Transculturalism and Relation Identity," IEMed, European Institute of the Mediterranean, 2008.

[28] Karen Mary Davalos, “‘La Quinceañera’: Making Gender and Ethnic Identities,” Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies 16, no. 2/3 (1996): 101–27.

[29] Halicia Hubbard, “It seems like everyone wants an axolotl since the salamander was added to Minecraft,” NPR, October 20, 2022,

[30] “Celebrate,” Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, Accessed 8 Apr. 2023.

[31] Emma Turner Trujillo, Marissa del Toro, April Ramos, "An Overview of Latino and Latin American identity," Getty, September 13, 2017,

[32] Stanley Brandes, “The Day of the Dead, Halloween, and the Quest for Mexican National Identity,” The Journal of American Folklore 111, no. 442 (1998): 359–80.

[33] Rebecca Nicholson, “Becoming Frida Kahlo review – This joyful celebration makes the artist fascinating in a whole new way,” The Guardian, March 10, 2023,

[34] “Camino Real de Tierra Adentro,” Wikipedia, February 19, 2023,

[35] Rafael Bracho, “Las Mañanitas lyric: how to sing the Mexican birthday song,” Expat Insurance, July 3, 2019,

[36] Marybel Gonzalez, “La Quinceañera: a rite of passage in trasition,” June 4, 2016,

[37] Madhulika Dash, “Culinary History of Pastel de Tres Leches,”, n.d.,

[38] Adrian Florido, “Vicente ‘Chente’ Fernandez, ‘El Rey’ of ranchera music has died at 81,” NPR, December 12, 2021.

[39] For Mexican dresses, see Chloe Sayer, Mexico: Clothing and Culture (Toronto: Royal Ontario Museum, 2015).

[40] Avani Thakkar, “Mexican Textile Artist Victoria Villasana believes creation is vital to self-growth,” Observer, August 19, 2022.

[41] Jeff Koehler, “Green Grapes and Red Underwear: A Spanish New Year’s Eve,” NPR, December 31, 2012,

[42] "Coat of Arms of Mexico," Wikipedia, March 9, 2023,

[43] Mark Cartwright, "Tenochtitlan," World History Encyclopedia, September 25, 2013,

[44] Mark Cartwright, "Sun Stone," World History Encyclopedia, September 4, 2013,
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