At a quinceañera expo: Dresses, pride — and hope

Monica Rhor says Latinos’ shock at El Paso massacre won’t diminish their resilence, cultural stature.

Like many Latinos, this week I have teetered on the edge of despair. In the wake of the El Paso terrorist attack, by a 21-year-old who reportedly said that he feared “the Hispanic invasion of Texas,” how could I not?

Our community has already been the target of anti-immigrant rhetoric from a president who engineered his political career by demonizing Latinos as rapists and criminals. And by his supporters who, emboldened by the example, hurl racial invective at Spanish-speakers.

But I found hope at a Quinceañera Expo at the George R. Brown Convention Center.

I found it as I talked to the folks at a booth run by Poder Quince, a campaign enlisting young Latinas to use their 15th birthday parties to register voters and drive up civic engagement in their social circles.

I found it as I listened to teenagers like 14-year-old Ava Guia, who signed up to turn her quince into a tool for Latino empowerment. She did it for the people in her community who are so often made to feel as if they are not good enough, for her hard-working legal resident father who “should have the same opportunities as white males.”

I found it as I soaked in the noisy, exuberant scene around me — the doting parents beaming at their daughters, the dark-haired models posing in beaded and baubled ballgowns, the dance performances by professional

damas and chambelanes.

The whole dizzying mescolanza that, to me, felt so familiar. I’m Ecuadorian-born, not Mexican, but this exposition hall filled with conversations in Spanish and English and the pulsing beat of merengue and reggaeton was a taste of home.

This were my people. Mi gente.

My heart swelled with pride.

The weekend rampage in El Paso was designed to sow terror in the Latino community. The suspected gunman’s motive, he later reportedly told investigators, was to shoot as many Mexicans as possible.

Yet the day after the horrific shooting, here I was, marveling at an expo that is a showcase of the 15th birthday celebration at the heart of Mexican American — and other Latino — cultures. A paean to a tradition that lifts up young Latinas as they enter womanhood and a ritual rooted in family unity and strength.

Quince parties are symbols of who we are and what we represent as Latinos. They are extravagant and sentimental, boisterous and sacred, displays of parental pride and evidence of parental sacrifice. They pay tribute not only to the quinceañera ,buttoa heritage that endures through the turmoil of immigration and across generations as Americans.

They are everything the suspected El Paso shooter and the white supremacists who echo his anti-immigrant screed seem to hate.

“I never thought that I’d be living what my parents lived,” said Belinda Ochoa, who wore a “La Madrina” T-shirt designed like a

lotería card. “In today’s society, to be told to speak English and to go back to where you come from.”

Ochoa pointed to her goddaughter, who hovered shyly nearby. “I’m a third generation Texan. She’s fifth generation. We’re from here.”

The two stood by the Poder Quince booth, listening as Antonio Arellano explained the voter registration campaign.

The idea, he told them, is to harness the power of young Latinas by setting up voter registration tables at their quince and encouraging guests to turn out at the polls. In exchange, the girls get a free photo booth for their party.

The effort was launched in May by Jolt Initiative, a Texas nonprofit that works to increase civic engagement by Latinos. In the two months since, 12 girls have used their quinceañeras as platforms to increase voter registration.

Another 74 signed up for Poder Quince at Sunday’s expo, said Arellano, Jolt’s interim executive director.

And who knows how many may sign up in the future? There are some 50,000 quinceañeras in Texas every year — presenting a huge pool of potential voters in a state where Latinos make up 40 percent of the population. Over the next decade, 2 million Texas Latinos will turn 18, and 95 percent will be eligible to vote.

Nationwide, Latinos voted in record numbers for the 2018 election, including in Harris County, where the turnout was 85 percent higher than in any other non-presidential primary since 2002. Boosting those numbers could result in serious poder — power — in the 2020 election.

At the expo, after the El Paso terror assault, I saw fear and worry. Many people were angry; others were on edge. But there was also strength and resiliency.

Guia eagerly signed up for Poder Quince because she is tired of Latinos being made to feel “less than” because of skin color, accent or tradition.

“I’m Hispanic,” she told me. “Yeah!”

Maybe that strength is what scares white supremacists who hide behind guns and politicians who seek power by stoking racism.

No matter. They won’t win. We won’t let them.