In January, Bad Bunny released his album Debi Tirar Mas Fotos (DtMF), a project that not only celebrated Puerto Rico but also defended it — most notably with “Lo Que Le Pasó en Hawái.”
The album blends diverse traditional and modern musical styles, such as salsa, reggaeton, and trap, to celebrate Puerto Rican culture and address socio-political issues such as gentrification and cultural identity. His music, with songs like NuevaYol, bridged generations and reminded the world of Puerto Rico’s beauty, resilience, and rich heritage.
Then came his historic residency in Puerto Rico — something never done before — and, most recently, his live-streamed concert. Millions tuned in to see not just a performance, but a cultural celebration: the landscapes, the roots, the clothes, the richness of Puerto Rico itself. For me, it was more than entertainment — it was a spiritual experience. The love he showed for his country, the pride in its heritage, reminded me of the warmth of reconnecting with my own roots.
In June, Karol G released her album Tropicoqueta, honouring the music she grew up with. She sampled songs from the ’90s and even brought Cristina out of retirement — a full-circle moment inspired by her dream as a child to be interviewed by Cristina.
These artists remind us of something important: our culture is not just entertainment. It is memory, connection, and resistance.
This Hispanic/Latinx Heritage Month, my hope is that we celebrate the richness of our history, our culture, our music, our traditions, our food and everything beautiful it has to offer.
Too often, the headlines focus only on hardship: countries in turmoil, families torn apart by U.S. mass deportations, discrimination against Spanish speakers, or persecution for simply being brown.
It’s not just history. It’s the ongoing colonization and racism we still live with today — the message that we shouldn’t exist, that we are less, that we have no place here.
But that is not the truth.
Our people have shaped history and left foundations across the world:
- The Mayans contributed to mathematics, astronomy, and the calendar system.
- Latin America is home to several wonders of the world, from Chichén Itzá in Mexico to Machu Picchu in Peru to Cristo Redentor in Brazil.
- The Mirabal Sisters left a legacy that gave us the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women.
- Gabriel García Márquez and Isabel Allende gave birth to magical realism, a literary genre that continues to shape global literature.
- Our music — salsa, merengue, bachata, reggaetón, cumbia — has taken over the world, bringing joy, rhythm, and resilience.
And beyond the “big names,” there’s the everyday beauty: beaches, the Amazon, diverse wildlife, our dances, our food, our languages and so much more.
I grew up in Montreal, where the Latino community was vibrant and visible. Walking to the grocery store, the mall, the subway, or school, I would often hear Spanish. It was everywhere. It felt like home.
My Own Story of Connection and Loss
When I moved to Ontario, things shifted. There are fewer Latinos, fewer festivals, and it’s harder to find the foods I grew up with. Yes, tacos are everywhere — but Central American food is different. Pupusas are harder to find. Churros with filling inside are rare. Central American horchata isn’t the same as the Mexican version.
When I do find these foods, or when I see cultural dances and traditions being celebrated, I feel a joy that’s hard to describe. It’s like a piece of myself comes back alive.
That’s when I understood: reconnecting with our roots is more than nostalgia. It’s care. It’s healing. It’s self-preservation.
Cultural Connection as Spiritual Self-Care
In therapy, we often talk about different dimensions of self-care: physical, emotional, mental. But one that’s often overlooked, and deeply important for immigrants and children of immigrants, is spiritual self-care.
Spiritual self-care doesn’t have to be religious. It can be about connecting with something larger than yourself. For us, that often means reconnecting with our culture, our traditions, our ancestors, both living and deceased.
When we cook traditional meals, dance to the rhythms our parents grew up with, or gather with community, we aren’t just celebrating. We are tending to our souls. We’re saying to ourselves: I belong. I have roots. I come from somewhere rich and beautiful.
This connection nourishes mental health, grounds identity, and provides a sense of continuity that colonization and displacement tried to erase. It helps us flourish.
For me, when I listen to Bad Bunny or Karol G, I don’t just hear music. I hear my people. I hear our resilience. I hear joy as an act of resistance.
Despite colonization, despite oppression, despite the hardships our families face today, we still dance, we still create, we still love, we still are.
That is the richness I hope we hold onto this Heritage Month. Not as a denial of the pain, but as a reminder of what still lives in us, what can never be erased.
Our culture is not just something to survive with. It’s something to heal with. To thrive with. To pass on to the next generation with pride.
Yes, machismo, colourism, and oppression exist in our culture. But so does community, resilience, joy, and diversity. Being Latino/a/x means carrying Indigenous, Black, European, and Asian roots in our ancestry — and from that mix have come dances like salsa, cumbia, merengue, and dishes like pupusas, flan, and even chow mein.
We can hold the darkness of our history and still celebrate the beauty of who we are. Both can exist.
This Heritage Month, may we reconnect with the richness of our culture, embrace our roots, and pass them forward. Because reconnecting with our culture isn’t just celebration. It’s self-care. It’s healing. It’s coming home.
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