XIPE: The Corporate Gap Year and Professional Renewal

Human Migration – El Interés Tiene Pies

Migration, a tale from the beginning of time. My ancestors' movement started as far back as the time of the Nahuas split from other Uto-Aztecan speaking peoples who then migrated into central Mexico around 500 CE (even before then if we consider the migration of the Olmec and other peoples). The migrations of the past, much like today, were made out of need and sustainability. When resources and opportunities are depleted in our home of origin, Xochipilli, the astute flower-prince, god of agriculture and cultivation, has helped guide our path to more fertile lands.

My very own family has a migration story. My parents made the decision to migrate from Guadalajara, Mexico, to Los Angeles, California, back in the '60s. Although the U.S. delivered on the promise of more fruitful lands, some years after our first migration, we worked our way back to Mexico in the ‘70s. You see, migrating out of your hometown is far from easy. Not only do we leave all that is familiar and dear to us, but we also forego our connections, networks, and cultural customs. It was due to the latter that my family made the decision to head back to Mexico. Once again, we tried doing our very best in Mexico, given the social-economic circumstances of our hometown. Xochipilli was relentless, however. He tugged at my father's heartstrings, insistent that the lush lands of the north would serve our family's wellbeing. With such reassurances, and while fully trusting the astuteness of the flower-prince, we found our way back to the U.S. in the late '80s. This time for good. I still remember the excitement of the journey, but also the fear of the unknown. The trail north was long and dangerous. We drove in a caravan of three cars, with us, just a few belongings, hopes, and dreams. Armed with courage, we crossed through the dangerous Mexican roads into the U.S. This move proved to be the best decision my family ever made, definitive and quite formative. So glad that our best interests had feet (in this case, wheels), and the fortitude to make the hike.

Xochipilli's clever maneuvering followed me throughout my childhood. The flower-prince continued living within my father, who often traveled across the great U.S. as a truck driver. My summers were often filled with cross-country adventures that further fueled my curiosity for migration. As soon as I had an opportunity, I migrated to Northern California in search of a deeper understanding of myself and higher educational opportunities. In spite of the fact my father was not too keen on having his youngest daughter leave home and go off to college, one good summer morning, he drove me to UC Berkeley. Leaving my community was pure torture. I was homesick half the time, but it was during my years in Berkeley, that I came to myself. I grew in unimaginable ways and learned to love the power within me. My transcendence made the journey worthwhile, as promised by Xochipilli, the new land had an abundance of flowery knowledge that helped me envision the next few years of my life.

After graduating from UC Berkeley, my home in Los Angeles called me back. Much like his hometown had called my father back to Mexico when he first migrated to the U.S., I came home to L.A., spent time with family, pursued a graduate degree, and began my H.R. career. It wasn't too long, however, before the flower-prince had me looking out east, into new horizons. I sought better opportunities on the East Coast, making Washington, D.C. our home for four years. This move was the toughest thus far. We were all on our own, that is until we made lifelong friends who traveled the Caribbean by our side. They helped us gain a new perspective on family and those folks one chooses as family. Thanks to this move, we now have our ocean family, la familia del mar, and a boss turned BFF: both bonds will forever live within our hearts.

As life should have it, Xochipilli's pull then took us to Chicago with the promise of opportunity. It was there, in Chicago, where we found everything we sought as we first began our migration out east. Chicago presented us with possibilities that have enriched our lives, both professionally and personally. Our professional growth was exponential. We made connections there that touched our beings and helped us test and expand our worldview. From co-workers, bosses to the unexpected muse who has helped me become a sparkier version of myself. And yet, our story of migration does not end here. The flower-prince has now afforded enrichment in the Southwest, and with that, in 2020, MOV and I will make the Wild, Wild West our home.

Our wellbeing has feet, we have the right and responsibility to seek a better tomorrow for ourselves and our family. This has been true - desde que la gente es gente - since people started being that, people. As we wonder why people would leave every worldly good they possess and risk their lives to find new horizons, remember this is nothing new, migration has allowed human-kind to thrive and survive as long as we have existed. To my migrating corporate warriors, I see you. It's not the path of least resistance, and yet the rewards of such movement always outweigh the risks.

Stream of Thought

Movement, stepping,

Chichimeca speed.

Swiftly passing

what has been,

fast approaching

what will be.

New horizons,

wild beasts,

conquered

in the midst.

All the deserts

and the mountains

in between,

helping find

that which I seek.