Isolating the impact of maternal migration on the migration aspirations of children left behind is a difficult task in a country with such long-standing migration ties to the United States as Mexico. To find out how maternal migration affects school experience as well as education aspirations of boys and girls in Mexico, I carried out surveys with 225 children and youth between the ages of seven and sixteen in four schools in the municipality of Tlapanalá in the state of Puebla, Mexico. Surveys were conducted in three secundária or junior high schools (185 students) and one primária or elementary school (40 students) in the month of June 2012. Out of the 225 surveys administered, 131 respondents were female versus 94 (42 percent) male. An overwhelming majority of participants reported having at least one family member living in the United States (93 percent). In addition, 33 percent of the children and youth reported having one or more parent(s) living in the United States. In a state like Puebla with long-standing ties to the United States, male migration has always been the norm. Thus, even though most participants had a father migrant, the percentage of participants who had only a mother migrant represents the trend of feminization of migration: 18 percent of respondents had a mother who migrated within the last decade.
The two factors I used to look at education experience are homework completion and a desire to continue studying in the future. During this extensive ethnographic research in Puebla I found children and youth’s education aspirations to be influenced by parental migration. Children and youth took pride in showing me their homework and showing homework assignments to parents who were away, as well. In order to assess education aspirations of participants with migrant mothers and fathers, one of the questions asked was about homework completion. The results showed a gendered finding: 81 percent of girls with migrant mothers reported always doing their homework, compared to 23.8 percent of girls with mothers at home. Boys reported not finishing their homework regardless of their mothers being migrants or not (9 percent with mothers at home and 12.5 percent with migrant mothers did homework regularly).
Why do girls in Mexico outperform the other groups of children in this research? Even though I found both boys and girls to experience feelings of resentment and love for their mothers, they responded differently when the issue at stake was academic performance and schooling experiences. However, previous studies have discussed the links between gender and schooling. Skinner and Holland (1996) stated that getting an education has “gendered dimensions.” Bartlett’s work with literacy (2003) discussed the narrative that exists in young women’s minds regarding education as a space for liberation. Similarly, Murphy-Graham (2012) argued that the participation of women in a secondary education program in Honduras increased women’s gender consciousness, which in turn heightened their desire for change in the domestic sphere. She found that in many instances women were able to negotiate a new sharing of responsibilities with their spouses. Based on ethnographic research in a secondary school in Amman, Adely (2012) posited that young women in Jordan saw education as making them more marriageable, thus enhancing their future prospects. In addition, the literature on gender inequality regarding educational achievement has found that boys under-perform relative to girls in schools (Legewie & DiPrete, 2012). As described by Legewie and DiPrete,
Some see the gender gap as largely biological in origin. Others blame schools for an allegedly de-masculinized learning environment and a tendency to evaluate boys negatively for fitting into this environment less well than girls. Yet, the true impact of school context on the size of the gender gap in academic performance remains controversial. (p. 463)
To this complex discussion I add the analytical layer of the consequences of maternal migration on the educational trajectories of girls and boys.
In Mexico, national statistics show that girls outperform boys in academic achievement. It is useful to consider that four out of every ten working-age Mexican immigrants in the United States have less than 10 years of formal education, according to the Pew Hispanic Report (2012): Mexican-born immigrants on average are less educated than other immigrants. Among Mexican-born immigrants age 25 and older, 60 percent have less than a high school education, compared with a fifth (21 percent) of other immigrants. Only 5 percent of the Mexican-born hold a college degree, compared with more than a third (36 percent) of other immigrants (Passel et al., 2012).
In Mexico, 36 percent of adults age 25 to 64 have earned the equivalent of a high school degree (OECD, 2012). According to statistics from the same OECD report, girls outperformed boys in the whole country. The OECD report states that in the last 50 years there was a tenfold increase in the number of enrolled students in Mexico, from 3 million to 30 million, which means that almost every child between the ages of 5 and 14 is enrolled in school. As a comparison, in the year 2000 a little more than 40 percent of the student population finished high school.
In the context of this research I argue that girls’ superior educational performance is linked to the following narratives: (1) education attainment as a path to reunification with mothers; (2) overachieving in school to live up to the expectations of mothers and hoping that academic performance would bring them together; (3) performing well in school with the expectations of receiving material gifts; and (4) school as a space to forget about problems. It is important to mention that these narratives are not mutually exclusive, as they are fluid and sometimes overlap. I also address the realities girls face in their homes in terms of gender role expectations, which show correlations between transnational gossip, gendered division of housework, and school performance. Maternal expectations and gender role expectations sometimes complicate notions of performing well in school, thus creating different experiences for boys and girls. To gain a more complete picture of how and why girls in Mexico are performing better in school, I present examples of boys in Mexico and also compare children in Mexico and the children born in or living in the United States.
Education Expectations for Children “Here” and “There”
My mamá left three years ago. I remember crying a lot because I am the one that is the closest to her. I did everything with her … so I miss her. Did she ask about me? Did she talk about me to you? Did she say I do very well in school? I do it for her, for my mother. (Ailyn, age 12, daughter of Brianna)
All I want to know is if she is doing well in school and thinking about her future. (Gemma, age 37)
The expectations of mothers and caregivers are a combination of their expectations regarding gender roles and their expectations regarding their desires “for a better life” for their children. Ideologies of gender sometimes change expectations.
Mothers reported that the main reason for leaving their children back home is their hope for “mejores oportunidades” (better opportunities). Sara, a mother of two, told me, “I came to this country so I could provide better opportunities for him [son].” When I inquired what “better opportunities” were, all mothers gave me the same initial answer “para la escuela” (for school) or “por la educación” (for education). Mothers emphasized schooling and linked education with the hope of a better life, placing tremendous expectations on their children left behind. Horton (2008) found similar narratives in her study with Salvadorans and Mexican families in California. She states:
Parents often used the popular idiomatic expression, “para que salgan adelante,” to explain their motivations in settling in the United States. Some mothers used even more powerful language to emphasize the forceful “pushing” required to propel and sustain their children’s forward momentum, employing the phrase, para sacar los niños adelante” (literally, “to push them forward”). (p. 930)
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Caregivers in Mexico generally reinforced these ideas, conveying to the children their mothers’ expectations. Almost all caregivers interviewed were maternal grandmothers. At times, however, caregivers of boys had a harder time disciplining them and conveying the value of education and schooling.
In contrast to moth
ers’ and caregivers’ education expectations, the boys I interviewed in Mexico expressed challenges associated with schooling, whereas girls seemed to be academically engaged with school. Grades and school behavior were better among girls, and girls often explained that they worked hard so they could find better jobs, receive gifts, and please their mothers. In contrast, boys reported not necessarily seeing school or a degree as a pathway to better jobs. I observed boys cutting school and asking their caregivers if they could stay home many mornings. As a result, at times there was significant mismatch between maternal expectations and male children’s experiences. The expectations mothers in New York placed on their US-born children differed as well. As I explained in chapters 3 and 4, mothers in New York City were less involved in the academic lives of US-born children and had generally lower education expectations of sons and daughters they brought to the United States who were undocumented.
Boys did not respond to pressure to stay in school. Agustín, Clarisa, and Sara were part of a constellation I observed and got to know for more than three years. From ages 13 to 16, I saw that, Agustín showed respect and love for his grandmother, Clarisa. He used to call her mamá when I first met him at age 13, but then he switched to abuela. Clarisa tried to do what she could to discipline Agustín. She did not allow him to bring his girlfriend home, she tried to enforce school attendance, and she had him working at their corner store and feeding the animals early in the morning.
Agustín did all the work his grandmother asked him to do, but he dropped out of school. Clarisa told me,
I wish he would stay in school, but his mother calls and talks to him and all they do is yell at each other. They fight all the time because she doesn’t know him … she doesn’t know his plans and his priorities. I understand him. He asks me, “abuela estudiar para que?” (study for what?) And I know that even with a degree it is hard to find work … but I tell him, if you want to go to El Norte you are better off with a high school diploma!
Agustín had little motivation to study; he did not feel it would provide more economic opportunities, nor would his degree be respected if he chose to migrate to the United States.
On the other hand, mothers’ expectations with children and youth in New York City proved to be different. As discussed in previous chapters, mothers in New York City understood the education of their children to be taken care of by society and the government. Guillermina, mother of Heloisa (age 5) and Yessenia (age 3), who were both born in New York City, explained to me,
Here in America your children go to school. There is no arguing, no questioning, no option, no excuse that it is too far … they go, there are buses! I know I don’t have to worry about enforcing that, because it’s just like living and breathing. If they [children] don’t want to do well in school, then it’s their loss. But in Mexico we have to impose, otherwise they [children] think they can choose.
Guillermina continued by stating that her daughter Pilar (age 13) in Mexico did well in school in part because she kept her in check. Weekly interactions with Pilar were about grades and school-related activities. Guillermina was proud to say that she was the one who made sure Pilar was making a life for herself. Pilar, on the other side, tried to match her mother’s expectations, but was curious as to whether Guillermina was as “strict” with her sisters Heloisa and Yessenia. Her curiosity was not unfounded. Guillermina explained to me,
My children in Mexico have to deal with the fact that I am not there every day. They have to think about that. They also think their siblings are better off here. But my children here have no idea what hard work is, so I can’t expect them to work as hard. They just have a different life.
In addition, as explained in other chapters, mothers felt they had little power or knowledge of school policies, English language, and homework content in New York and felt that their influence in the academic lives of their US-born children was minimal. An interesting fact also arose from all 20 transnational mothers’ interviews. They explained that children in Mexico were “left” there, thus mothers expected children in Mexico to know what suffering and sacrifice felt like and have it in them to thrive because of that sacrifice. In New York City, children were born and raised already exposed to heightened consumerism and large schools, without the “trauma” of ever being left behind. Gemma, a mother from Puebla who lived in Sunset Park, explained to me how much she loved school and wanted to be in school when she was young. The condition her mother gave her was, you may stay in school, but you cannot find a boyfriend. She met her first husband in nursing school. All she ever wanted growing up was to be free, “estar libre … until Satan [ex-husband] crossed my path.” She was going to do her residence in Puebla, but they did not have space at the hospital and she ended up getting pulled back to the smaller town of Izúcar de Matamoros, where she met him.
She told me about her two US-born children:
Alejandro Jr. and Yazmin are spoiled rotten, they have everything exactly how they want. I loved going to school, because staying at home meant housework and I never once said NO to my mamá, so I hated doing housework. But they [Alejandro Jr. and Yazmin] don’t have housework and they go to school, so they don’t care, they can’t see the value of school. They want to watch TV.
Aruna echoed similar sentiments:
My sons are not being taught to do housework because we don’t live like I lived in Mexico, having to do so much physical work. They did not learn that discipline of working. So what happens now, they take everything for granted. My daughters in Mexico have to do work at home and go to school, they have responsibilities they learned since they were young.
Gender ideologies shape much of the interactions between caregivers and children at home. For example, in many transnational maternal-child relationships, conversations with both sons and daughters often center on schooling and education. Mothers’ first questions to caregivers and children were always “how is s/he doing in school” or “is s/he obeying you and doing homework?” I found this to be true across gender of children and length of separation. As Karina, a mother in New York told me, “It has to be worth it.” For these mothers, the expected returns on migration for their children were: good academic performance, willingness to do well in school, and ambition to stay in school and pursue a college degree (see Smith 2005). The irony, however, is that in some cases the very expectations that motivated mothers to depart (providing better schooling and education) are the one boys left behind had most trouble with. The stronger school performance of girls was consistently motivated by their desire to not disappoint their absent mothers.
I address the realities girls face in their homes in terms of gender role expectations using the concepts of mujercitas and hombrecitos to explain how maternal expectations and gender role expectations sometimes complicate notions of performing well in school, thus creating different experiences for boys and girls. I begin the following section with a detailed story of the Osorio constellation. With this story I show how even though education expectations of mothers in New York and gender role expectations of caregivers in Mexico complicate children and youth’s experiences of education, females in Mexico managed to have better grades in school and were motivated to finish la prepa (high school).
The Osorio Constellation
At the time of our interview, Brianna had been in Jackson Heights, New York City for three years. Brianna left three daughters Fernanda (age 14), Ashley (age 12), and Tina (age 8) in San Bernardo, Puebla when she moved to New York. Ronald, her husband, had been going back and forth between Puebla and New York for 15 years. Ronald was undocumented, so crossing the border was always costly and dangerous. For this reason, in his first 11 years he went back to Mexico to see his wife three times. Each of the times Ronald went to Mexico, Brianna became pregnant with one of their three daughters.
During her first pregnancy, Ronald brought Brianna to the United States to establish their family in California. Fernanda, the oldest daughter, was born in the United States, but at
five months Brianna took her back to Mexico, where Fernanda lived until her fifteenth birthday. Brianna decided she needed support from her extended family to raise her daughter since Ronald was working all day. Ten years and two pregnancies later, Brianna returned to the United States, this time leaving their three daughters behind so she could join Ronald in New York City. Brianna described her life since she migrated to the United States as “lonely” and “without a main purpose.” When I asked her what the main purpose of her life was she said, “Raising my children, taking care of them, making sure they have an education.”
Though I found these responses to be somewhat normative and part of an appropriate narrative, they shaped the dynamics between mother and child. Prior to migrating, she lived in San Bernardo, Puebla, with her mother Leila, her sister Leti, her niece Lesley, her sister-in-law Marcia, and Marcia’s daughter Cece. Brianna explained to me,
I only left San Bernardo because Ronald and I thought that we had to try to live as husband and wife … it’s so hard being apart for so long and since the buildings fell [September 11 terrorist attack] Ronald kept saying that it would only get harder for us to see each other. So we thought, I will go for one or two years and then come back for my children. You know … a strong marriage is very important to children’s development as well.
Brianna’s daughters all attended the local public school in their pueblo. Fernanda went to the high school in the village about 15 minutes’ walking distance from her home, and Ashley and Tina walked about five minutes to their elementary and middle schools. The three daughters have grades that correspond to being in the top 20th percentile or higher in the United States. While the girls in this constellation performed well in school, it did not come without pressure from their families. During many meals at their home in Puebla, Leila told the girls how “shameful” it would be if they were not good students. “Your parents are there, and especially your mother, to provide for you, to dress you, to buy you books and shoes for you to go to school. Remember that when you are being difficult and annoying.” The sisters rolled their eyes, complained, and fought with each other, as they felt they were being “lectured” by their grandmother. At the same time, they understood the pressure of performing well in school because teachers and principals acknowledged their grades and efforts. Their motivations and experiences with education, however, were very different, and will be described in subsequent sections of this chapter.
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